South China Seas, December 1888

The ship slid down the swell of the sea, white water splashed up from the bow, the ship twisted a bit from side to side, the Captain pushing at the wheel, and then rose up the next swell. The Mate peered into the storm, the engines throbbed deep beneath the decks. She would ride the seas alright, the Captain knew. The Mate reached in his jacket, and took out his flask to take a swig. The Captain pretended not to notice, the Mate was a steady enough man, they had been shipmates for years now, back into the wild old days. And this voyage might be the culmination of a long series of journeys, this time might be the big payoff, if they could make it back to England with what was down in the hold. Maybe they could go ashore and stay ashore, sail no more. Live like gentlemen, dress in nice suits, have regular lodgings, or maybe even own a cottage somewhere away from the city. The rain and spume whipped against the glass of the wheelhouse, the ship rose and fell and twisted, the engines continued their steady beat.