Private Caught in Doldrums

[Brooke Waters]

No matter how many apps, and services one checked, the weather of any coastal planet always found a way to surprise anyone. People had been sailing for longer than there had been space flight. Pamarthe, Kattada, Corellia, sailing popped up all over the galaxy. And it was brought to so many worlds for so many people to enjoy. Tourists even made trips to the oceanic worlds. Brooke couldn't really argue with them.

It had become that romantic thing… Taking a boat, with the people you liked, and visit a tropical island where there were hammocks, sea shells, and frozen drinks, powered only by the wind. Living off the sea, harvesting fish, cooking right on the boat, and sleeping under a starlit sky with just the sounds of the winds on the sea, the waves lapping against the boat.

Or others who found the sea in the challenges its provided, taking the boat, and racing against others, exploring the planet from a new perspective. As a Witch of the Blue Coral Divers Clan, she was just at home on the sea, and as a Blubreen hybrid, she was equally at home under the sea.

But today? No, today she was part of a small race. She came home regularly to Pamarthe to race among her peers, some friends from before, some friends from now. Unlike her powered watercraft, the Discovery, a sailing vessel with the name reminiscent of why people sailed in the beginning, remained at port in one of the archipelagos. She was racing… well, that was the intent.

It was a bit of a small marathon race, about 5 kilometers one way, from the starting gate off the dock, down and around one of the small little cays, and back to the club. The winners were going to get a it of a trophy, some Port in the Storm, and bragging rights.

That is, if there was a winner… Now the wind was gone. And if they were going to stay in the race, they had to just see what they could do, and that didn't include using any engine. There were a few boats all caught in the same doldrum, as they'd been fighting for the gusts as the wind died. Her crew had moved to put the sails right, and now came the waiting, and searching.

From the wheel of the boat, she could see a few others nearby. "You all are going to let me know when you see breeze right?"

Tris

 

[Tris]

Summer.

It was the one time of year when Pamarthe wasn't cold, wet, and stormy. Some sailors though, thought that summer was the most dangerous time to sail. Water Dragons and all sorts of creatures changed their hunting and eating patterns. Some even only came out for the relatively warm few months to feast and mate. It was an extremely important time for Pamarthe. On a world where "See you next summer" could be taken as "I'll never see you again", it was an important marker in Pamarthen years. Summer was everyone's real birthday.

It also was the time when the Storm Father seemed to go to sleep. Every five years Pamarthe was given a summer. Every five years the winds slowed to a crawl and the seas became still. Despite that, summer was a time of stupid long-distance races like this. To celebrate life, another five years of it at least, races were happening all over the planet. Children were getting taken out on their first boat rides or starfighter jaunts through the system. Ports were filled with booze, skyeel, and women....

And he was here.

Stuck on a rock. In the middle of the Eastern Reaches. Not a cloud, not a zephyr or stormcrow in sight.

"Not a chance," Leith shouted over the distance between his rock and the woman on her boat. Foreigner by the sound of her voice. Bit of a northern accent, but definitely from off-world. "Might as well take a nap!"

"Aye, that's some good advice. Make you easier for the Ceirean to get you."

"Or get your boat snatched up by a Drake!" The men all laughed, Leith included.

"Listen, you're better off opening up a pint and enjoyin' the weather while it lasts. We'll get to the finish line eventually. You probably won't be first though by the looks of you." Leith laughed and caught a bottle of beer tossed up from someone at his boat. With a hiss, he popped the bottle open on the rocks and took several long gulps before stretching and fixing himself in his rocky chair.

Brooke Waters

 

[Brooke Waters]

If it wasn't one thing, it was always something else. Brooke knew that the way the weather worked always affected the wind, sometimes giving too much, sometimes taking it all away. Wasn't such a bad thing most times, and in most places, that was fine, but when you needed the wind to get moving? That was the problem. And really, Brooke hated turning on the engine, especially if it meant forfeiting time or a race.

The sea was constantly in flux, from what she learned as a child on this world, and the other worlds she was calling home. Summer and winter always in competition, the patterns of migration of species, of hunting and spawning. For those who weren't commanded by the baser instincts, it was a time of reverie, a time of growth, celebration, and life. There were parties around the world, people imbibing along the many shallow reefs and atolls, where the parties were at. She understood the need for that, and in her earlier years were there more often than current Brooke would like to admit.

It was her first summer that her parents gifted her with her small sailing dinghy, a little 5 meter long boat she could single hand, even at the age of 9, it was a good transition from the smaller 2 meter long boat. But now she was on much larger vessels, like the Discovery. Looking across to the voice that called back, Brooke couldn't really hide that she'd been off world for a good chunk of her adult life. The lilt was there, of any real coastal world, where people just spoke a little slower, but she had spent too much time in the Core.

"Can't waste a good summer day on a nap, got some music though!" The blonde grinned as she moved to turn up the speakers her boat had, a bit of string and percussion with a lazy baseline. It definitely was from a coastal world but not somewhere as challenging as Pamarthe. Maybe she had gone soft?

There clearly was a reason her friends wouldn't come to Pamarthe until the summer did hit. Kattada was much easier to get people to come to. And yes, her homeworld did have some troubles she hadn't really kept updated on. She shook her head.

"Not worried about what the world has." But she did turn to Leith with his next statement. "The look of me?" That brought a grin out onto her features as she dropped from her more Core-inspired tone. "Nah mah firs' storm, chere." Clear to be a cadence with the Southern Isles. Life was a bit more easy going down there, compared to the Eastern Reaches.

The Witch could feel the laughter and just joy from the rest of her crew, most of them from her Clan.

Tris

 

[Tris]

The men laughed again.

"So she thinks she's a Southern girl, eh?!"

"You know what they say 'bout them southern girls!" Someone hooted in the distance and they broke out into song, their harmony and melody about what you would expect from a group of probably drinking or drunken seamen. Leith didn't join in though, his brow furrowed as though in consternation. A Southerner all the way up here?

"What are you doing all the way up here chere?" Leith asked, mocking her accent, "We're nearly halfway to the Salt Planes. Wind's blown you a wee bit off course there hasn't she?"

Brooke Waters

 

[Brooke Waters]

The crew she had aboard were clearly enjoying the Summer here. And the tossing of comments across the bow. The nice thing was that it was a doldrum, made it so much easier for a voice to carry, like a winter night, just without the freezing temperatures associated with such. No, when you were on a boat, on the sea, with no wind, a smallest whisper could be heard. No sails taking in small breezes and making noise.

The Witch rolled her eyes as she set the wheel for a second and grabbed one of the drinks, not a Port in the Storm, more a harsher liquor with some juice to it, Southern Isles style. The life down there was a bit less harsh than the northern fjords, but she wasn't about to let someone claim she wasn't Pamarthean. Was she a racer, or a fighter pilot nowadays? No, she stayed to coastal worlds, and following the Force to help the storms…

"Winds go where they are. I'ma race in them. Even if it means up'n this far north." A long drag of the bottle and she nodded. "Though we're use-ta the winds holdin'."

Tris

 

[Tris]

There she went with that accent again. Leith grimaced. He couldn't stand off-worlders - and she was an off-worlder as far as he was concerned.

"Listen," he said, removing his honor blade and twirling it around in his hand, "You can pretend all you like. Why don't you show us you can sail as well as you talk once those winds start to blow." Almost on cue, the wind began to pick up. So strongly in fact that a few of the smaller boats began to move on without their crews. Leith cursed and leaped to his feet to make a dash to his own rig.

"Alright you lazy sods! Get yer arses in gear! Can't let our Southern Lass show us up!" With a jump that should have been impossible for a normal being, but was easy for those of his species, Leith landed with a grunt and took the wheel. He'd probably have to leave some of his men behind if he wanted to take full advantage of this gust of wind.

Brooke Waters

 

[Brooke Waters]

See, this was what she loved about racing, and sailing, there was always time for some down time, and when that came around? Plenty of time for banter, friendly or otherwise with the other crews. As she saw the other captain pull out an honor blade, her eyebrows went up as she it. Wearing a loose fitting tunic, enough to take any of the suns rays, and protect her from the winds, she moved and her belt was shown with her own, should Leith be looking.

"Oh I'll show you how to sail, sai." One of her own crew had pointed at the wind and muttered a soft "Puff incoming, off starboard." Brooke looked over her shoulder and nodded, seeing the ripples over the sea as the wind was coming in. The Discovery was set up with a tiller as opposed to a wheel and was set up with a main sail and a jib. The two sails allowed her to catch a bit more wind while moving, while adding stability to the vessel.

"Pull in that sheet, lets trim these sails." She called as the wind met with the two vessels. The sails came to life as they filled with wind and the Discovery took a little leap forward. Storms it felt good to have wind.

Tris