Up Sails

There is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.

~ The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame

That night, Evan got to sleep in a real bed again. It was wonderful. To make matters even better, there was a little toggle on the wall that magically turned lights on around the room and there was an adjoining room with a bathtub in it that magically filled with water when one turned the right knobs. It was wonderful to be clean again.

He spent a dreamless night and woke early enough the next morning to lean out of the window and watch the sunrise over the ocean in the distance. Presently, he turned to where he had piled his clothes on a chair the night before and had them on in record time. Downstairs, the house was very silent and empty and as he walked past the front door, it opened. Curious, he went out into the courtyard. He saw three tiny figures near the end of the lawn surrounded by a swarm of specs hopping up and down like fleas. Evan broke into a run to reach them.

When he reached Gavin, Aurora and Coriakin, they were standing on a high grassy dike overlooking the sea and a small two masted vessel moored to a wharf.

"Her name is the Lion," Coriakin was saying, "I had her ready for you last week. Your horse is already aboard and I have provided charts and a sextant and compass. I trust you won't find her too large to manage."

Gavin only gaped.

"I don't really know how to sail," Evan pointed out, coming to stand next to Gavin. The ship, though very small compared to the bark, seemed far too large for just the three of them.

"You'll learn before we're through," Gavin said grinning, then turned to Coriakin, "I really don't know how to thank you, sir."

"Oh don't thank me, thank Aslan, it was he who specified her size," Coriakin said. "Anyway, I don't really want to be bothered by Baal Devar, myself."

"I won't do it!" Aurora spoke for the first time, her face white. "What if it sinks?"

"She's not going to sink," Gavin said reassuringly, "You won't have to lift a finger. Evan and I will sail her."

Evan looked uncertain.

"Well," Coriakin said. "When you've learned the ropes, come back for breakfast, I'll be waiting for you."

With that, he turned and walked back across the lawn. The monopods remained, hoping up and down just on the bank.

They seemed to be having an argument.

"I tell you, he said we're duffers," one of them said, bouncing up and down.

"Right you are," the others agreed, "You never said a truer word."

"Properly, you're monopods," Evan said, wanting to enlighten them.

"That's what he says," The first said, "Dufferpods."

"No, monopods!" Evan exclaimed.

"Exactly right," the others agreed, "Dufflepuds!"

Evan stamped his foot, "They'll never learn!"

Gavin completely ignored him; he had eyes only for the ship.

"Well, this will be fun!" Gavin said, sliding down the bank and striding out on the wharf. He turned to look at Evan eagerly, "let's go aboard and learn the ropes like he says."

Evan followed hesitantly. The closer he got, the bigger the Lion seemed. She was nearly fifty feet long and beautifully made. Her bow rails curved to a gilded lion as a figurehead and her sides were smoothly varnished wood. Gavin made a peer-head jump and landed amidships; Evan followed and stared up at the two towering masts. Aurora refused to leave the dock and stood staring at the ship as if it were about to swallow her whole.

"How on earth are we ever going to manage this?" Evan asked, "It's hopeless! She's too big!"

Gavin looked up too, "she's a schooner. The only real trouble will be getting her sails set, that much canvas can be very heavy."

Gavin made his way forward, his eyes running along the rigging, then came back again to the mainmast. There were the halyards for the mainsail, he fingered the boom vang and looked up at the pennant streaming from the masthead.

He slid the loops of the throat halyard off the mast cleat and swung down on it. The gaff lifted slightly. Thoughtfully, he belayed it again, then gestured for Evan to follow him to the other side of the mast.

"The end of the gaff nearest the mast is called the throat, the other end is the peak," Gavin explained, loosening the peak halyard, "I want you to haul on the peak while I hoist at the throat."

Evan took the halyard in his hands and waited until Gavin had gotten around the mast and cast off the throat halyard.

"Right," Gavin said, "Heave!"

They hauled in unison, the parrel bead rattling as the gaff jaws traveled up the mast, followed by a parade of mast hoops. The heavy sail straightened out, then stretched between the gaff and boom, a great creamy white expanse that flapped listlessly in the wind, the reef points dancing.

Gavin swigged down on the throat halyard, belayed it, then did the same for the peak. The mainsail was set.

"I still don't think it will work," Evan said. "I don't know two things about sailing."

"What's the first thing you know?" Gavin asked.

"Um…the wind blows the sails and the ship moves forward," Evan said.

"That's all you need to know about sailing," Gavin said, "and what you don't know, you'll learn in a hurry."

Gavin climbed out on the bowsprit and experimented with the jib and staysail until he felt he knew them fairly well. He decided against setting the square topsails.

"We won't use them anyway," he said. "It will need more than two of us to handle them. That's why square rigged ships need such a big crew, while schooners don't. Fore and aft sails are a dream to handle."

Evan thought not, but he didn't say anything.

"I just hope we don't run into a storm," Gavin said grinned. "I don't think the two of us could ever get those sails reefed. Or at least not very easily."

There was a moment of silence as Gavin looked with pleasure at the expanse of sail that rippled above their heads, swinging listlessly. Then he glanced shore side where Aurora was standing on the dike, looking down at them, her fair hair streaming in the wind.

"You're going to have to be a man for this voyage at least," Gavin said, "That will mean keeping regular watches. It'll only be the two of us. I doubt we'll get any help from her, she doesn't strike me as the type."

"I'm not complaining," Evan said grinning and suddenly felt sorry for Aurora. She'd never know what it was like to be a boy.

"Now what?" Evan asked.

"Let's lower that sail, then I'll teach you how to sail!" Gavin said grinning. Lowering the sail was considerably easier than raising it and presently they were loosely stowing the canvass against the boom. When they were done, Gavin gestured to Evan and Evan followed Gavin obediently to the quarterdeck; it was a very small quarterdeck, only about six inches higher than the rest of the deck. Gavin went to the transom and leaned over the stern.

"What are we looking at?" Evan asked, leaning with him.

Gavin pointed down.

Evan saw a small dinghy towing behind the Lion, about fourteen feet long, with mast and sail in her. Evan brightened.

"You mean we could sail the little boat first?"

"Exactly!" Gavin said, he reached forward and cast off the painter (rope) of the dinghy and towed her alongside, where steps had been fashioned in the side of the schooner.

Gavin dropped into the boat, "I'm going to ground her on the beach, meet me there."

Evan nodded, then jumped back on the wharf. Aurora still stood on the dock, more dazzling than ever, her platinum blonde hair falling in rolling waves down her back.

"We're going to learn how to sail," Evan informed her.

"We're not really going to sail on that thing?" Aurora asked.

"You can stay behind if you'd like," Evan called, then jumped down about six feet to the white sand of the beach. Instantly every dufflepud in the area jumped down off the dike onto the beach, scattering sand everywhere.

Gavin beached a moment later and shipped the oars. He pulled off his boots, stepped into the water and pulled the boat's bow farther up the beach. Then he took the mast and sail out of her and laid them on the sand to figure out the rig.

"Lateen rig," he said thoughtfully, "She has a yard instead of a gaff."

Evan didn't even pretend to understand. The dufflepuds crowded around and Gavin looked up at them, bemused.

"I bet you'd float on the water, if you tried," Gavin suggested.

"Water's powerful wet," one said suspiciously.

"Why don't you try it," Gavin said. "I'll pull you out if you sink."

The dufflepuds looked at each other, than at the water. One young one finally got enough courage and bounded into the water. There was a tremendous splash and the dufflepud was bobbing on the waves.

Gavin pulled one of the oars out of the boat and handed it to him, "try paddling," he suggested.

The dufflepud plied his oar like a paddle and whizzed across the harbor and back. Among the other dufflepuds, there was a general stampede for the other oar. One got it and sped out after the first dufflepud.

Grinning, Gavin stepped the mast in the dinghy, then hoisted the sail.

"Hey you!" Gavin called to the two dufflepuds, "We need our oars back!"

Grudgingly, the dufflepuds turned the oars over to Gavin, then all four dozen of them leaped over the bank and disappeared from view.

"Right," Gavin said, nodding to Evan, "hop in."

Evan pulled off his shoes and left them next to Gavin's boots. Then he waded into the water and climbed into the boat. When he was seated, Gavin pushed the boat off and climbed in himself. There was a bit of a jumble as Gavin made his way to the stern thwart next to the tiller and Evan settled on the middle thwart.

"All right," Gavin said, "This is the sheet-" he picked up the rope attached to the end of the boom, then patted the wooden post sticking inboard in the stern, "And this is the tiller. Now, there are several ways of trimming the sail. You can go anywhere from running before the wind, that is, having it dead aft, or you can sail close to the wind. The closest angle you can have the wind to your sail is a forty-five degree angle…"

Gavin was an excellent teacher and Evan listened with every fiber. At first he didn't pretend to understand half of what Gavin was saying, but as Gavin went on, it became more clear to him. At last, he found himself at the tiller, clutching the sheet with one hand and staring open mouthed at the sail, lest it should 'luff'.

After about half an hour of instruction, Gavin had Evan beach the dinghy on the beach and he climbed out. Evan was about to follow.

"No," Gavin said, "You're going out by yourself now."

Evan glanced out at the smooth harbor, then back at Gavin, "Well, I suppose I could row back if anything goes wrong."

Grinning, Gavin took the oars out of the boat, then pushed her off.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Evan exclaimed. "I'll never forgive you!"

Evan set himself to sailing. There was something wonderful about it, it was an art, uplifting, beautiful. The sound of the water under the forefoot excited him; the feeling that he somehow had harnessed the wind uplifted him.

He saw Gavin standing on the beach, watching. Evan knew Gavin was proud of his work. Aurora was talking; he could see her mouth moving.

It was about that time that fifty dufflepuds appeared over the dike and leaped into the water with a tremendous splash – Gavin and Aurora momentarily disappeared behind the spray. Each dufflepud had fashioned himself a rude paddle and almost at once, they set themselves to paddling races around and around Evan in the dinghy.

In order to avoid them, Evan had to constantly change course and trim the sail. It was, Gavin said afterwards, some of the best training he could have received.

At last, Evan grew tired of it and set his course to the beach, hotly followed by dufflepuds. He saw that Gavin was sitting down now, with something white stretched out on his lap.

"What on earth are you doing?" Evan asked the moment the dinghy beached. He got out and hauled her father up.

"Charting our course," Gavin said. "I think we'll be ready to leave right after breakfast."

"What about breakfast?" Evan asked. "I'm completely starving."

"Wait," Aurora said.

They both looked at her.

"I'd like to learn how to sail too," she said shyly.

"Excellent," Gavin said, grinning, "Evan can teach you. There is no better way of learning then teaching someone else."

Aurora made a face.

~o*o~

Breakfast was served by the dufflepuds. It was rather unnerving, because they were constantly bumping into each other, or dumping the breakfast everywhere. For a little while, nothing would convince them not to jump over the table. Once, two of them hit in midair directly over the table. It made a horrible crash.

In the end, less breakfast went into Gavin, Aurora and Evan than on the floor.

Coriakin closed his eyes, "Aslan, grant me patience."

~o*o~

It was about ten o'clock when they – dufflepuds, Coriakin, Aurora, Gavin and Evan – all went back down to the wharf.

"The Lion's speed to you all. My island comes and goes in this world, it is not chained and moves freely through the sea. You will reach your destination very soon." Coriakin said, "I will also tell you this, the weather will be holding true for a while. You should fear no storms."

"Thank goodness for that," Evan said, "and thank you for your hospitality, it's been…very interesting."

"Yes," Aurora said, "You have been very kind to us. Thank you."

"Right," Gavin said, "you go aboard while I cast off the warps."

Evan leaped aboard, followed by Aurora and they stood waiting while Gavin cast off the stern warp, coiled it and threw it to Evan. The stern began to drift away from the wharf while Gavin cast off the forward warp and took a flying leap to the bow of the Lion.

"Right, we've got to hoist the sails," Gavin said, coming aft, "Just like we did before."

In six minutes, both main and foresail were set and Evan found himself at the tiller.

"Just steer for that open water over there," Gavin said, hauling in the main sheet, "I'll do the rest."

"I can do something," Aurora said.

"No need milady," Gavin said.

A gentle wind caught the sails and the Lion heeled over. Gavin was forward, setting the headsails to balance her. Then he was coming aft again.

"Take the tiller," Evan said.

"No, you're doing fine," Gavin grinned encouragingly.

Evan glanced behind himself, the wharf was already distant and he saw the tiny figure of Coriakin raise an arm in farewell. The dufflepuds were hopping up and down, they seemed to have forgotten their paddles.

Evan looked back to his steering. A stronger wind caught the sails and the sound of water at the Lion's forefoot came laughing over the sound of the wind. He could feel the tremor of the ship through the tiller, it was wonderful, wonderful.

Gavin was standing amidships, head thrown back, the wind ruffling his brown-gold hair.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said, looking back at Evan.

Evan nodded mutely. They were rounding a point of land now, keeping to the deep blue water in the channel. They were in the open sea.

"We'll have to come about now and set our course," Gavin said. "It will be just like coming about in the dinghy. Bring her around gently, I'll do the rest."

Evan gulped and watched while Gavin went forward.

"Whenever you're ready!" Gavin called.

Evan swallowed, "Ready about!" he called, put the helm over and the bowsprit moved across the horizon. Gavin was casting off the starboard sheets on the jibs and belaying the port ones. He came aft again.

"Our course is south-south-west," he said.

Evan glanced at the compass where it was set in the binnacle and moved the tiller slightly until the needle pointed roughly south-south-west.

"Good," Gavin said, "Don't try to keep her right on; you'll just wear yourself out. Are there any lighthouses on the Lone Islands?"

"Yes, some," Evan said, "Mostly on Felimath because of the reefs."

"Good," Gavin said, "I'm estimating we'll see them sometime tomorrow morning. Carry on; I'm going below to see how Ambyr is."

Evan panicked, he didn't want to be on deck alone, "no, don't, I'll go, you take the tiller. Or-or send Aurora."

"It'll be good practice," Gavin said, grinning.

He turned and started below.

"Gavin!" Evan cried.

Gavin waved a hand.

"I'm going to strangle you when we reach land!" Evan called after him as he descended the companion way.

A/N: I know, I know, I'm absolutely crazy about boats, aren't I?

For anyone interested, the Lion (Schooner) is based on two historical ships, HMS Sultana and HMS Pickle, the ship that brought the news of Nelson's death from Trafalgar. Both have modern sailing replicas if you want to know what the Lion looks like.

As usual, reviews are extremely welcome!

~Psyche