In the Captain's Cabin

Though decorum would have dictated that he invite their guests to dine with him, Bolitho thought it best if he did not hold a formal dinner for their first evening at sea. He did not want to put the passengers all on the spot so soon after departing, especially Capitaine des Sablières. The Frenchman would most likely be getting enough stares and scrutiny already. It would be better if he, Dr. Maturin, and Captain Padstowe all became more acclimated with their surroundings before being forced to dine with the captain.

And so, while the wardroom dinner was held, Bolitho dined alone in his cabin. Catchpole had made a satisfactory meal as usual, though he would have to make an even better one when the guests finally came to dine. As he ate, Bolitho contemplated the journey ahead of them, and what lay in store once they arrived at Oporto. They had encountered--and thankfully captured--one French vessel on the way to Lisbon. He could only imagine what lay ahead of them this time.

[I know we've got a Captain's Quarters thread, but I thought it might be good to have a new one for the journey to Oporto.]

The following day, mid-morning, Fletcher was unlucky enough to find himself at the front of the deputation of Midshipmen clutching their journals, mathematics and navigational books for their lesson. He hesitated before the closed door, which seemed remarkably imposing to him, and gave a nervous glance to the Marine sentry standing next to it.

"Go on then," Kinsella hissed. "Knock!"

Fletcher would rather as well not have, but he steeled himself and rapped his fist smartly on the cabin door - and winced as it sounded louder than he had intended.

Bolitho had finished glancing over his charts for what seemed like the hundreth time. Deciding he needed a moment to clear his mind, he had gone over to look out the stern windows for a while--which is where he still found himself when the knock came.

"Enter," he said, turning around to face whoever was coming inside.

Fletcher nervously tried to tweak his neckcloth and adjust his grip on his books at the same time as the sentry opened the door announced that the young gentlemen were here for their lesson. He had been in the captain's cabin before - several times! - but for some reason it never seemed to get better. Perhaps it was because he was aware of how big and important the captain was and how small and insignificant he was. It was a horrible feeling anyway, and he wished he was rid of it.

Ah yes, the midshipmen's lesson. Of course. Bolitho walked away from the windows and approached the cluster of boys as they entered, all carrying their books.

"Good morning gentlemen," he said, "I trust you are all ready to continue where we left off after our last lesson?"

[OOC: And sadly the captain has to leave before he even begins. But since I didn't start yet, anyone have any suggestions for what the middies will be learning this time? I can pick a lesson myself of course, but I'm more than willing to take suggestions if you have them!]

A chorus of "Aye, sir." rose up from the assembled Midshipmen, Chandos and Kinsella's lower rumbles contrasting with the higher pitched affirmations of the other boys.

"Excellent," Bolitho said, waiting for a moment as the boys all settled themselves. Then he began.

"Now then, I believe we left off just as I was going to discuss the processes of tacking and wearing. I shall of course explain both thoroughly, but first I would like to know if any of you can tell me why those actions are necessary?"

Fletcher thought he knew this one, and at risk of sounding ridiculous answered.

"Because the wind doesn't always blow in the right direction, sir?"

"Quite right, Mr. Fletcher. Well done."

Bolitho nodded at the boy, glad that he had had the courage to speak up.

"The wind does not always blow in the right direction. When it does, it is your greatest ally. But when it does not, it will be your greatest enemy--unless you can properly adjust to the situation. And that is when you must either tack or wear. Both processes will accomplish the same end, that of turning the ship in order to catch the wind. The difference is that when tacking, the bow passes through the wind, but when wearing, the stern passes through the wind."

He waited for that to sink in, then added, "Do you all understand so far?"

[OOC: I'm just itching to say "Everyone better be taking notes!" but that might be a wee bit too anachronistic...]

Peter nodded, though his hands wanted to make gestures to imitate the wind and the ship. But quite often, provided you remembered the words used, the sense would become clear later. Probably when the Captain explained why they would choose to do one instead of the other. But to ask that, would only risk being asked for his ideas, and he was not going to take that chance. He wrote down carefully: Tacking: bow passes through wind. Wearing: stern passes through wind and looked up with what he hoped was an intelligent eye.

Fletcher nodded enthusiastically, scribbling down what the captain had just told them; Tack = bow through wind. Wear = stern through wind.

Kinsella and Chandos rumbled low "Aye, sir"s, already more than aware of this, and fast coming to the decisionthat this would be a lesson in which they would not have to expend much effort.

"Good." Bolitho knew Yates and Fletcher were taking it all in, though he did not miss the slightly forced tone of Chandos and Kinsella's voices, "Mr. Chandos, Mr. Kinsella, I realise that you most likely have been taught this already, but a little extra practice would not go amiss, I think."

He punctuated this with a rather stern glare in their direction.

[OOC: Dinner time for me, so sadly the captain has to leave in the middle of his lesson.]

[Crozier comes from the ward room - Friday morning]

Having completed his task in the sick bay - one of the boys had been sneaking about in the hold looking at the horses and had ended up with a bitten finger - Crozier returned to the wardroom to find it empty. However, he paid a visit to the scuttle butt with his newly acquired watering can from Lisbon, and from there he made his way aft to the great cabin.

It was Vining who was on duty outside the Captain's cabin. He'd been pulled up, yet again, over the state of his trousers, but he really didn't care. And now the surgeon was approaching.

He knocked on the cabin door. "Surgeon, sir!" he called.

"Oh, Vining, only if he's free... is he free?"

Vining glanced sideways at the doctor. "Dunno, sir."

Before he could resume his teaching, a knock came at the cabin door, followed by Vining's call of "Surgeon, sir!"

"Pardon me, gentlemen," Bolitho said to the boys, halting the lesson. Then he called back, "Enter!"

He wondered why Crozier would be coming to the cabin now, hoping there was no emergency which required his attention.

Crozier strode into the room with his watering can but stopped when he saw the midshipmen sitting around the table writing in their workbooks. "Oh, please excuse me captain. I forgot this was your time for the young gentlemen's lesson." He nodded at the young men.

Bolitho's eyes alighted on Crozier's water can, and he realised the reason for the surgeon's visit was to water those blasted plants of his. Well, at least that meant there was no emergency.

"That's quite alright, doctor. We can put the lesson on hold for a moment. The young gentlemen will wait quietly in the meantime." That was more of a command than a statement, and he hoped the midshipmen took notice.

"Thank you, sir, thank you. Please don't wait though. Carry on as if I weren't here at all." And in fact, he was not, for in a moment he had slipped into the starboard quarter gallery to tend to his seedlings and cuttings. He had not invaded the larboard gallery, graciously allowing the captain to keep it as his privy, but it was a delight to see the boxes of earth in the starboard gallery, all lined up along the windows and warmed by the sun, the little green shoots positively glowing.

Crozier himself was glowing with pleasure as he reemerged a few minutes later. "They're looking splendid in there, plenty of sunlight. Thank you, captain. And my apologies again for interrupting your lesson." He nodded again to the young gentlemen, smiling happily at them all.

"You're quite welcome. I'm pleased to hear the plants are doing well," Bolitho said, though he did not feel quite as enthusiastic about the greenery as Crozier did. "And don't worry. You have not disturbed us greatly. In fact, you have given a perfect teaching lesson for our young gentlemen."

He turned to the midshipmen and said, "As Dr. Crozier has just demonstrated, you must always be prepared for the unexpected. No matter if it is an attacking ship, a torn sail, or simply a visitor in your cabin wanting to tend to his plants. Anything can happen at any time, and as a captain, you need to always be ready."

"Yes, Sir," Peter said, with a sidelong glance at the surgeon. At least the time had given him a chance to scribble drawings of ships, and winds (with puffed cheeks, and tousled hair) and work out the difference between tacking and wearing. He would keep the sketch with the note.

"And, if I may mention something else," Crozier said, "A captain must always be vigilant for the health of his crew and take what steps are necessary to ensure their wellbeing. The greens that Captain Bolitho is allowing me to grow in his quarter gallery will be a beneficial addition to all of our diets, to ward off a host of complaints such as scurvy. Diet and health are not just the surgeon's concern but the captain's as well." He smiled again and slipped out the door with a final, "Good morning, gentlemen!"


[Crozier goes to organize medical stores]

Surgeon = Very Strange Man, Simon scribbled into his notebook. He wondered whether their passenger, as a physician, would be more or less quirky in his habits.

Peter sat writing in his notebook, a mathematical calculation on the area needed to grow enough mustard and cress to feed the entire crew, and prevent scurvy. He would, he realised, have to find out how much mustard and cress each person would need, but presumably quite a lot. And then there was the need for fresh water for the plants...