As amusing as seeing his son's front end leaned over the deck rail, exhuming his stomach contents was, Gerard was sure that this trip was already off to a bad start. It'd only been four years sense Freddy had last been on a ship, but that still didn't explain why his sea-sickness had returned. Maybe it was the alcoholism... Or maybe he was actually drunk right now. Gerard knew as well as Freddy that Oslow kept a good supply of liquor stowed about his vessel and not only that, but Freddy also knew where many of his hiding spots were. It had been a childhood game for him as a cub to see how many he could find and tell his father, but back then, Freddy was an innocent cub with no want for the substances. Now, Freddy was grown and, surely, addicted to them. Gerard took Freddy by the thick scruff atop his head and lifted the Grizzly's muzzle. Freddy looked at him with some dreary daze and bloodshot eyes which told Gerard all that he needed to know. Knowing better than to attempt to scold him when he was drunk, Gerard took Freddy about the shoulder and dragged him below-deck to his cot. There, he laid his son down and pressed a damp cloth to his forehead.

"How is it that that one has see sickness when-"

"He's not sea-sick. He's drunk. I want you to re-hide all your liquor for me. In Places that Freddy wouldn't look. The cub's got him self a nasty taste for the stuff and it's just about ruined him. Go on, now. Please..." Oslow reluctantly nodded and took to his small hidey-holes, meaning to re-stash his small rations of whisky. Oslow himself wasn't an avid alcoholic. He drank in moderation whenever the situation called for it and kept enough for his crew to share in the same moderation. That left plenty of substance for Freddy to find and exploit. The cub didn't drink in moderation. "You're ruining yourself, cub. I'm trying to stop that from happening..." Gerard mumbled with a soft tongue. Freddy simply returned with his own mumble and rolled over, clenching his stomach. Gerard growled. What had he done wrong? Gerard tried his best to make sure that Freddy had grown up in a protective household, one which frowned upon such things and made it clear how they could hurt him, yet now that he was older, Freddy was partaking in almost every terrible act which his father had advised against. Gaia was also a stern mother, as soft as her disposition made her seem and Freddy listened to her. Why was he disobeying her? He was even an alcoholic when she was alive, meaning her death couldn't have caused such rebellion. Frederick's teenage years had to have been where it started. When he was thirteen, a Galleon Master had showed up at their door-step with Freddy under paw. The enforcer claimed that the cub had vandalized a small storefront. Then, at age fifteen, he came home again with an enforcer at his side, one which claimed that, this time, he had stolen a few bottles of different alcoholic substances, but when confronted about it, Freddy flatly claimed that he didn't drink any of them. Yes, they found the items and found them unopened, no less, but it was curiosity that made him want to take them in the first place. He would have certainly drank them if he hadn't been caught, or, at the very least, tasted them.

Not long after Freddy's troublesome faze began, Gaia and Gerard decided to find their son a better outlet. They tried to get Freddy into different activities, both during and after his classes, yet none appealed to him. Then, he met a small group of youths who were forming a charity choir at the local salvation thrift. At the time, Freddy refused to let his parents know of his interest, but it became evident that the cub wanted to sing. He joined them and, not a week later, Gaia and Gerard found that their son was thriving with these young-lings. He was talented, even! Gerard had walked passed the park one evening to hear a small rehearsal and Freddy was singing lead! Another thing that he'd gotten from Gaia: musical talent. For once, Gerard hadn't a worry in the world... When he heard his cub sing, all he could do was smile. Freddy was enjoying himself, as well. He loved to sing and loved hanging around the other youths which always praised him for his effort and skill. Gerard thought he had found it, his calling... Then it all fell apart. One of the youths, older than Freddy by a few years, a Shepherd, convinced the cub to come with him down to the docks. They snuck into a pub and Freddy got his first taste of alcohol. He was dragged home by another Galleon Master who threatened about the chance of a youth correctional facility. After that, Freddy didn't leave the house. He didn't sing anymore. He didn't smile. His grades in school began to plummet and Gerard always thought he smelled the feint hint of whisky on the cub's breath the few times they spoke, which were usually arguments. Yet, Gaia tried all the way to her grave to convince Gerard that Freddy wasn't lost...That they could still save their cub... Gerard always had his doubts...

Sitting besides his sleeping form now caused Gerard's ears to droop defeated, but he wasn't void of hope. Gaia hadn't ever been wrong. He still trusted her word, no matter how distant it was. The older male scuffled into the neighboring cot and stared into his son's disgraced muzzle, coated in some drying stomach-contents. He was pitiful, but not hopeless. He was only hopeless when he was dead. With that thought in mind, Gerard drifted into sleep, almost smiling had he not been aware of the challenge he was to face for the next few days.

That next morning, the younger bear awoke with a groan and ran his claws about his scalp. Gerard stirred awake, always a light sleeper, and greeted his son with a warmness he hadn't held in a while. As nice as Gerard thought he appeared, Freddy took the grin as a form of smugness. "Good morning, cub. Hungry? Thirsty? I know you could use some water, if you can keep it down." The younger grizzly snarled at Gerard and curled back up on his cot. It wasn't long before another voice, more irritating and louder than Gerard's, bore now on his flattened ears.

"Wake up, Frederick! On my ship, we all rise early. You know this. Up! Up!" Oslow's strong paws coiled around Freddy's forearms and yanked him upright. The sudden change of position rendered Freddy discombobulated for but a moment before he found his bearings and bore his teeth at the white bear. Before a single growl could be uttered, Oslow returned with a stiff smack from his free paw. "Now, don't start your attitude with me, cub. You do as you're told. I'm going to straiten you out, yet!" Fred glanced to his father and snorted.

"So this is your alternative to the navy?"

"Oh no, this is one step up from the navy. Oslow is practically family, so he can whip you up as he pleases... literally..."

"Don't be disappointed when your little tactic doesn't work." Gerard put his paws behind his back and turned to march towards the dining area with a sly grin.

"I'm already disappointed, which means I have nothing to lose. Come now, son. Do as the captain tells you." Oslow pulled Freddy along before he could respond and sat the cub down between a Grey crane with a few too many years in his belt and a Labrador who couldn't care for manners. His 'food' was sloshed over the table as though he was a typhoon just fresh of a fleet. Freddy wasn't exactly proper, but he knew better than that. A wooden trey was thrown down in front of him, Gerard's smug face behind it as he sat down across the table in plain view of his already miserable young. "Now, after you eat, we can spend some time together like you wanted. We can even go top-deck if you think you can handle it." This time, it was smugness. Freddy growled and shoved a heavily weighed spoon into his mouth, trying not to gag at the mushed concoction which the chef had thrown together. The slime-like garbage was an off-orange with small green swirls weaved into it. It had the texture of mucus, which didn't make it any easier to swallow. He managed two more spoon-fulls before he knew his stomach couldn't take anymore. He dropped his spoon onto the table. "Frederick," his father barked in the hard tone which he always used when addressing a wrongful act. "Finish your meal." Meal? Was he serious? Freddy looked down at the still hefty pile of goo on his tray. He looked up at his father with a childish 'do-I-have-to' expression. Gerard smiled and motioned to it as a silent 'yes-you-do.'

Freddy gulped and took up his spoon again. He collected another large pile of slush, large enough to clear a good bit of the load. Before he could envision the taste, he shoveled it into his mouth and swallowed hard. The lump on his throat took two attempts to finally drop into his stomach. 'Just one more bite,' Freddy thought to himself, scooping up the last large ball. He repeated the previous process and threw down his spoon. Before Gerard could say a word, Freddy was up and on-deck. The older Grizzly laughed and looked to Oslow who was holding his pot-belly, trying not to break with mirth. "He's a hard one," the white-bear mused, sarcastically. Gerard shook his hear, breaking his own smile and followed the other up-top.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Frederick," Gerard pleaded, standing at his son's side against the railing. "I'm trying to help you in more ways than relieving your grief. You have a lot of problems, son."

"Name all of them."

"Alcoholism, nicotine addiction, issues with authority, Pride-"

"How is pride an issue?"

"It's not in moderation, but you have too much of it for your own good. You think that, just because you're a big Grizzly, you are entitled to more than anyone else and you're not, Frederick. Listen to me, I don't know why you went down this path. I want to know, but I don't and I doubt you'll tell me, but I want to steer you off of it, even if it means climbing through brambles to do so. You are a smart, talented cub. You're like your mother in so many ways and that's one of the reasons I love you so much, but you're using what she gave you in all the wrong ways. Gaia was determined, but you come across as simply stubborn. Gaia was compassionate, but you turn that compassion into boiling rage. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm anti-mom."

"No." Gerard growled and pinched his snout. "Freddy, if you were the opposite of Gaia, you'd almost be me. You are so much like her that when I look at you now, I have to hold back tears. You have her eyes, her talent, her wonderful ability to see through people, something I've seen you do." Both males were fighting a war to hold back their tears. Freddy always thought that his father held him in populous disapproval, never happy with anything he did or ever could be happy no matter what Freddy could do. "I love you so much because of it. You're incredible just like her... Except..."

"What?" Freddy sniffed, prepared for whatever demeaning thing his father was about to say. Gerard merely grinned and nuzzled Freddy snout.

"Gaia always smiled." Freddy's ears flew back and he jerked away aggressively. He was below deck before Gerard could say anything to stop him. "What in hell did I say?" Oslow met him at the main-mast and shook his head.

"There is no telling with that one. The story of his mind is written all over him, but it's in some foreign language. To figure him out, you have to translate it. It'll take time, Gerard. No amount of loving words is gonna change that cub just like that." Oslow snapped his pads. "Give him a little room to air out."

"You haven't failed me yet, friend."

"I went through something a lot like this with Ismene, but she was much younger. She'd gotten Pregnant at fifteen while I was away and had gotten addicted to many things. It took me a long time to get her out of it, but now that cub's got a stable income, a daddy who loves her son and she is as happy as happy can get. You'll figure him out, Gerard."

...

"Weigh anchor. We sail fur t'coast a' Ursius..."