skylarking

[Continued from the sailors' merry-making here, On Sentry Duty]


Billy clapped his hands and laughed as Danny Oates started to dance. Samuels, who had by now recovered from the shock of the flogging, was still perplexed.

"But why are we singing and dancing and all?" the man asked Chase. "Aren't you upset?"

Samuels was looking confused, even as the two Oates fellows got up to dance. At his question, Chase shook his head with a smirk.

"No sense in bein' upset, mate. S'what that middie'd want anyways. It's done an' over." The topman spread his arms out a bit. "An' why not have a dance, eh? A fine afternoon an' sure we got the best fellows anyplace t'play fer us."

Thompson grinned at the newly-pressed man. "You'll learn, mate," he said. "Once a punishment's over in the Navy, ain't nothin' more said about it. An' it's too nice a day to stew 'tween decks."

(OOC - I really need to go to bed; I have to be up early tomorrow. You can borrow Thompson, if you need to, and Oxley and Appleby are quite happy to play anything you ask them to.)

Samuels looked unconvinced. "And you're sure we won't get in trouble for singing and dancing up here?"

"On the foc'sle in the dogwatches?" Thompson couldn't quite believe Samuels had actually been serious as he asked.

"'Course we won't. It's tradition, see."

Chase nodded at Thompson's remarks, even as he pushed away from the rail and waited for Timlin and the two Marines to finish the opening tune. "Tradition, aye, an' a good bit of fun besides. C'mon an' dance, Samuels. Won't hurt ya none!"

Samuels was still looking nervous, but Billy grabbed his arm and linked elbows with him, spinning him around with a laugh.

Barrow had gotten Samuels moving, at least. With a grin, Chase joined the swirling jig and let his bare feet slap against the deck in near time with Young Oates's. Around the group of dancers, seamen and Marines watched, either clapping or giving an occasional cheer or laugh.

Thompson grinned. Chase didn't seem to be letting his back bother him at all as he danced a hornpipe with Young Oates, cheered on by the sailors and other off-duty Marines. All things considered, Terpsy was a happy ship and Thompson hoped she could stay that way. He didn't fancy standing guard on some poor bugger clapped in irons simply because he'd happened to get on the wrong side of an officer for no reason.

He heard the music wafting down the open hatchways and the regular stamp of feet on the deck overhead. It was close to impossible not to. The Tars were celebrating by the sound of it. It must be a cheery sort of gathering too, for he heard the heavier thud of boots as well and knew there were Marines up there as well.

With a resigned sigh, Branning set aside his wood-carving. He had been trying to finish the little boat before the end of the voyage but there seemed little chance of that, with distractions like the dancing on deck to contend with. The big Marine stood up and carefully replaced the block of wood and his carving knife into his sea-chest. Not that he minded this sort of distraction, really.

Oxley and Appleby were the first fellows he spotted as he came on deck. The musicians' were bright with smiles as they played their respective instruments and close by them was the shantyman. A very cheery sort of gathering! Branning grinned at the stamping, whooping dancers. His feet had no grace when it came to dancing but he took plenty of enjoyment simply by watching.

A flash of red from the companion ladder and he stiffened. Corporal Johnson had come on deck as well, but for whatever reason seemed completely disinclined to interrupt the party. Branning felt himself grin in relieved surprise. Some things could never be explained!

"They been at it long?" Branning asked, glancing toward another Marine nearby. The fellow's name was Thompson, if he remembered right.

Thompson turned to find another Marine standing next to him. He was a big lad, and Thompson thought vaguely that his name was Branning, or something like that.

"No, mate, they've pretty much just started. Here, make y'self comfy if y'r plannin' on staying for a bit."

Good then, he thought, his wood-carving already forgotten. "Allays like a dance, even if I on'y watched!" Branning leaned against the boat tier and grinned. "Least ol' Chase ain't lettin' his mood git broke. Good things an' all, eh?"

"Aye. Though I reckon Miste De Guarde ain't goin' to be happy when he sees Chase enjoyin' hisself."

Thompson grinned at the sight. He was no dancer either, but he did like watching them, and there might even be a bit of singing, later, and he could join in with that.

Whatever Mister De Guarde felt was no direct concern of Branning's. "Reckon that means sod all to them lads just now."

The Marine grinned as he saw Chase and another seaman join hands and dance as a pair, to the whooping delight of the other onlookers. An irrepressible lot, these Tars.

Thompson dismissed De Guarde from his mind as he watched Chase and his mate having fun. His first captain had been a tyrant who ruled with an iron fist, and the grating had been rigged far too often over the course of Thompson's service in her, which thankfully hadn't been that long. His other ships had mostly been happy, but he never took it for granted that a ship was going to be happy rather than the alternative. He just hoped De Guarde wouldn't spoil Terpsy's character for him, or the sailors he was watching.

"C'mon buckos!"

Chase and Robbins skipped toward the two Marines and swiped their blue forage caps off their heads. The other seamen and Marines cheered as the two grinning Tars fitted the caps onto their own heads and carried on the stamping swirl of the dance.

"Ain't no fun stannin' an' wartchin'!" Taylor called out.

"Awright, you Jack Tar, you," Thompson said, knowing he was being made a fool of on purpose, in front of the sailors, but not caring in the least.

He could dance a creditable hornpipe, even if it did look strange done in shod feet, rather than the bare feet the sailors had, and he got up and joined in, grinning.

The surgeon was leaning against the capstan, balancing his book on the top of it and watching from a discreet distance. He enjoyed these musical sessions, and he was glad to see his own recent patient Chase and all the other men in such high spirits. In fact, he could have been said to be a touch envious of their merriment and camaraderie, but he contented himself with sketching the scene in his book, hoping (and reasonably confident) that no one would notice.

Branning blinked when his cap disappeared off his head. The Tars were in a rare mood it seemed. His surprise was short-lived as he watched Thompson wade forward amongst the frolicking seamen and he followed after a moment's hesitation. At dancing he was completely hopeless but he was catching the unabashed spirit of merriment too.

The heavier clump of shoes seemed awkward next to the neater stamp of bare feet, but the Tars only paid attention to the men who had joined in their play. Branning did his best to keep from tramping on anyone else's feet and of course his somewhat clumsy steps were cheered just as if he were a master at the dance. The big Marine grinned broadly. Perhaps this activity wasn't so awful after all.

Well, nobody could say Thompson wasn't willing to have a bit of fun. Usually, of course, the Maries and the sailors kept their distance from each other. It was only natural, what with the Marines being the ship's policemen, charged with keeping order and preventing mutiny and desertion. But there were times, like this, when it didn't matter whether you were a sailor, a Marine or a landsman.

Thompson was grinning as he watched Branning get up and join in as well. The two sailors looked daft in the Marines' hats, but it was all part of the fun of the thing, of course.

Billy yelped. "Oy, watch it there mate!!! Some of us have toes we'd like to keep here!"

Oop, he'd nearly trod on a seaman's unprotected feet. Branning shortened his steps but was in no mood to abandon his enjoyment just yet.

A couple other Marines had gotten their courage up as well and were drifting toward the laughing, grinning dancers. Branning's feet caught up on themselves but he managed to keep from tumbling to the deck in an ungraceful heap. Somebody grabbed his arm and pulled him around in a slightly stumbling circle and he realised it was Higgins. The Somersetman was wearing a seaman's tarred hat with its long fluttering ribbon and was shuffling and stamping his feet expertly.

"Huzzay!" Branning cried, unable to do anything but laugh at Higgins' comical appearance. Several men in the watching crowd whistled loudly amid the chorus of cheers as Higgins went through his performance.

"Your own fault f'r makin' us join in," Thompson said. "You know us Marines wear shoes." He managed to snatch his hat back while Chase wasn't looking, and settled it firmly on his head again, grinning at Higgins' appearance as he did so. It seemed he and Branning weren't the only Marines willing to look daft.

"Sarn't Quinn was looking for you!" The ship's boy was even more out of breath than the dancers. "He says - He wants you to stand behind the lob - the Army officers. They're dining with the Capt'n." He finished his message and stood gasping and then, grinning, jumped into the middle of the dance.

"Bother." Thompson had been enjoying himself, and didn't really appreciate being dragged away from his fun to go and stand behind someone's chair during a formal meal with the Captain. Still, there'd be other times on the foc'sle.

He caught Chase's eye. "Sorry, mate, got to go. You keep all on havin' fun though, won't you?"