gayalondiel_bak (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gayalondiel_bak) wrote2010-01-05 10:34 pm
gayalondiel_bak) wrote2010-01-05 10:34 pm
Snow
Yet more Hornblower! What's going on? Why do I always write in little bursts of energy, it would be much more useful if I could spread my writing effort out. But then my bursts of knitting effotr, and baking effort, and cross stitching effort would have no time to come to the fore I suppose:
Anyway. Short and kind of pointless, but it snowed on me today and I wanted to share the experience. (And yes. I know the weather is unlikely where the Renown was going. But snow is pretty.)
Snow
The night was anything but quiet. Men roused from their hammocks complained bitterly against the freezing air, thick with precipitation, as they hastily shovelled snow overboard from the drifts that were forming on the Renown. Matthews paced the quarterdeck, roaring for more speed and woe betide any man who thought of using the snow as a missile against his comrades.
Captain Sawyer lay in his cabin, wrapped tight against the cold. The doctor came to him with a dose of medicine and he drank eagerly, thinking only to be rid of the white and the cold and the noise in his head, caring little for the wellbeing of the men labouring in the cold.
Buckland paced the poop deck, ordering men to work faster and shovel harder to little avail. Briefly he thought of spurring them on with the promise of a spliced mainbrace, so often the tool his captain used on them, but stopped short at the thought of disapproval from his fellow lieutenants. Either course would bring criticism, and he could not decide.
Wellard clung to the rigging, peering through the falling white and calling orders to Matthews as to where the snow had fallen heaviest and where the drifts had piled up the greatest. Matthews moved and chastised men according to his commands and Wellard felt the weight of responsibility and the fear of what could happen if the ship became too top-heavy. His fingers were numb through the gloves that his mother had sent him and he was glad only that the captain was not there to taunt him, so he could go about his duties with a clear head.
Hornblower stood by the wheel, erect and alert, for the watch was his. He was vaguely aware that the snow was settling on his head and shoulders and felt foolish for it, but there was little to do now that the topsails had been brought in and the men were going about ensuring the safety of the ship. Beneath his uniform he was freezing, for he had come out without his cloak before the sudden squall had hit them but felt that it would be wrong to leave his post to fetch it when the men were labouring in their shirts. Nevertheless he concentrated in the back of his mind on not shivering, so the men would not see his weakness.
Kennedy took the cup from the steward, whom he had waylaid from his duties above deck, and sent him to shovel snow with the rest of the hands. He pulled on his cloak and picked up Hornblower's, which he had omitted to take with him, along with the steaming cup of coffee that the steward had provided. He could not stop the snow from falling, nor prevent his friend's obstinance in not taking care of himself for fear that the men would see and call it weakness, but he would offer what little warmth he could.
Anyway. Short and kind of pointless, but it snowed on me today and I wanted to share the experience. (And yes. I know the weather is unlikely where the Renown was going. But snow is pretty.)
Snow
The night was anything but quiet. Men roused from their hammocks complained bitterly against the freezing air, thick with precipitation, as they hastily shovelled snow overboard from the drifts that were forming on the Renown. Matthews paced the quarterdeck, roaring for more speed and woe betide any man who thought of using the snow as a missile against his comrades.
Captain Sawyer lay in his cabin, wrapped tight against the cold. The doctor came to him with a dose of medicine and he drank eagerly, thinking only to be rid of the white and the cold and the noise in his head, caring little for the wellbeing of the men labouring in the cold.
Buckland paced the poop deck, ordering men to work faster and shovel harder to little avail. Briefly he thought of spurring them on with the promise of a spliced mainbrace, so often the tool his captain used on them, but stopped short at the thought of disapproval from his fellow lieutenants. Either course would bring criticism, and he could not decide.
Wellard clung to the rigging, peering through the falling white and calling orders to Matthews as to where the snow had fallen heaviest and where the drifts had piled up the greatest. Matthews moved and chastised men according to his commands and Wellard felt the weight of responsibility and the fear of what could happen if the ship became too top-heavy. His fingers were numb through the gloves that his mother had sent him and he was glad only that the captain was not there to taunt him, so he could go about his duties with a clear head.
Hornblower stood by the wheel, erect and alert, for the watch was his. He was vaguely aware that the snow was settling on his head and shoulders and felt foolish for it, but there was little to do now that the topsails had been brought in and the men were going about ensuring the safety of the ship. Beneath his uniform he was freezing, for he had come out without his cloak before the sudden squall had hit them but felt that it would be wrong to leave his post to fetch it when the men were labouring in their shirts. Nevertheless he concentrated in the back of his mind on not shivering, so the men would not see his weakness.
Kennedy took the cup from the steward, whom he had waylaid from his duties above deck, and sent him to shovel snow with the rest of the hands. He pulled on his cloak and picked up Hornblower's, which he had omitted to take with him, along with the steaming cup of coffee that the steward had provided. He could not stop the snow from falling, nor prevent his friend's obstinance in not taking care of himself for fear that the men would see and call it weakness, but he would offer what little warmth he could.