Journal Entry: August Fourth

  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.

Such an exciting night! Exciting and unfortunate, rather, for me and for a number of poor sailors; they, naturally, worse off than me, being dead instead of merely disappointed.
The White Star is a curiously built ship, I think. It is framed in such a way that there are curious spaces, some which can be disguised and hidden away, some in odd corners where one wouldn’t expect a partition. When I first arrived on board, my position as neither crew nor paying passenger nor officer led to a question about sleeping arrangements. I didn’t believe that I merited a cabin, but I could hardly take a hammock like the general sailors. So a compromise was made: one of the odd areas in a corner at the stern was curtained off for me. There is enough space for a cozy bed and my chests, and even a window to let in light or be tightly shuttered against the rain and wind. The only drawback is that it takes a roundabout route to reach this corner; if a bell rings to call all hands, I am always the last one on deck.
So last night, while in a deep sleep, I thought I heard the bell being rung rather vigorously, but cast it away as my imagination. (Really, I just didn’t want to wake up.) And, for a time, I was able to convince myself that the booming noises were thunder. It was so persistent, and added to by the urgent shouts of the crew, that I finally knew it was cannon fire. As I roused to full awareness, one word pierced through the melee of noise--”Shark!”
At last! A chance to study that elusive specimen. I bolted out of bed and started to gather my tools. I would need the notebook, the small ruler, the large ruler, the large flexible ruler, the calipers, assorted vivisection tools, what else?... Of course, I first had to strike the light, put on some clothes, then search through my luggage, then run down to my other chest in the hold, then run back up for a bit of chalk, then make my way halfway to the deck before I remembered one other thing, then twist and turn to finally reach the stairs and head up into the night. Not a quick task, unfortunately.
Of course, by that time the cannon fire had stopped. I was surprised, when I finally emerged on deck, to see that there was a ship next to us. A ship that was badly damaged: the mast broken clean off, splintered planks everywhere, and with a curious list that I’m sure a ship shouldn’t have in the water. The White Star crew were busy throwing lines across the short distance, pulling the two ships alongside each other.
“But where is the great shark?” I wondered.
It had, as is so often the case, savagely attacked the other ship, killing all the crewmen on deck and threatening to sink the entire ship before the White Star was able to come along and kill it with the cannons. Of course, with even just a few cannonballs in it, the weight added meant that it could no longer float, so it slipped over the rail and sank to the depths of the sea. And could I just scoot aside from the hatch so that they could carry this cargo down to the hold? Thank you very much, miss. No sense in wasting good cargo. Might as well bring it on board before it sinks to the bottom along with the poor dead men on board.
I went to bed disappointed, and a little suspicious.