'GANS AT SEA

by Lucille D'ecoupage

Chapter Two

Inside the quarter-deck, Farthing stood at a waist height chart table. It was lit naturally by a row of top-hinged windows which bracketed the aft deck. To his left were two curtained bunks and behind them was a small doorway leading to his private quarters. He was the only person on board the two ships granted such a luxury and his room did not exhibit any double duty - save for temporary storage of a small quantity of dried fruit. The lapping of a light chaff resonated from below. It was a most soothing sound and one of the things that drew Farthing to the sea.

A short stairway led into the chartroom from the deck below and to the left of the entrance sat Dr Dickinson, immersed in scientific texts at a small desk. There was a knock at the doorway and then another young Lieutenant, Stuart Tarbin climbed through with a wicker basket suspended in one hand.

"Good newth Sir!" he said, in his awkward vocal gait.

"Yes?" answered the Captain without looking up.

"The weatha has cleared through the Isles of Scilly and we are awaiting the tide to take us out of the riva... The fog still lies heavy around the coast but the wind is picking up from the norf and your wife has sent us lunch Sir..."

At that Sir Richard did look up as did the Doctor, who swung around in his chair. Tarbin gingerly set the basket on the edge of the chart table and the other two cleared space for it's contents. "We haf some sort of game hen, perhapth Grouse, several types of cheethe, fresh bread and apples for dessert! How wonderful!"

"The cheese will keep," observed Dickinson, "shall we add it to our inventory?"

"Let's have some now while it's fresh..." Farthing unwrapped it from the cloth and recoiled at the fumes. "This would appear to be Stilton." He regarded the cheese as an artisan would and then turned to Tarbin, "Caudal is at the helm?"

"He ith Sir."

"And was on middle watch as well?"

"Attending to stores."

"Call him in."

Tarbin hesitated for a moment. It had never occured to him that he may not be invited to take part in this small feast or to have to share it with his counterpart. He could not resist a last glance at the two lovely roasted hens which sat so provocatively near.

"Vvery good Sir." he stammered and turned on his heel. A few short years ago he would have burst into tears.

Profoundly unaware of the Lieutenants inner turmoil, the other two tucked into the small bounty on the table. Although the crew appeared now and again to offer gifts, it had become routine for them to curry favour in such a way. For Farthing and Dickinson it didn't really matter either way, it was an amusement and part of the privilege of their status. It also served as an indication of the type of unofficial stores on board and of whom to appraoch in times of need. Wine especially was much appreciated.