Breakfast on the Esploras

The Esploras had continued her journey during the night while most of the crew slept. The night crew consisted mostly of the men that no one knew much of, because they were typically sleeping while the day crew manned the great vessel. It did not take many - someone at the helm, another manning the masts, another doing the rigging, and two or more hands to make sure everything else seemed to be in order. The night crew's job was not to make up for lost time or to do anything more than just keep the ship on track and afloat, so they were not the most intriguing of men.

However, as soon as the sky became tinged with yellow and orange lights, the hands came below the decks and began knocking on the cabins of the regular crew. The captain, Darcy's father, was naturally woken first, a hearty breakfast delivered right to him. Darcy was always second, as she was one of only two or three females who ever step foot on the ship. Currently, her sister was off at school (pfft, school) and the other females had not boarded, as the crew of the ship was very fluid and rarely complete. Darcy did not enjoy sleeping in the cabin alone, but she had been caught by her father every time she tried to sneak into the other cabins.

She told the night crew that she would wake everyone else, and hurried down the corridor. She had not done anything with her hair, so, even as short as it was, it was properly messed up. Her boots made the planks below her grunt and she zipped up her jacket as she approached. The first cabin was the crew that never changed, the ones that only got off the boat with her father. She burst inside.

"Wake-y, wake-y, bastards!" she yelled cheerfully. Immediately, a pot was thrown at her and she happily dodged it, before tossing it back. "Make your own breakfast, Lyle."

Bryce, her best friend, was already awake, and was tightening his belt. He quickly pulled a shirt on and strode past her. "I'll save you some sausages," he said by means of greeting. She smiled and turned, hurrying to the next cabin.

This one was significantly smaller because it did not house as many bunks. It was a bit bigger than her own and held three bunks, meaning that six could peacefully slumber there. Only two were in though - the father of one of the crew had hitched a ride and intended on sleeping away the trip as much as possible, and the other had sailed with them before and immensely intrigued Darcy. To be fair, though, there were few people who did not intrigue the girl.

"Oliver, it's time to get up! Breakfast will be served soon, and we have to get going if we want to reach the Bahamas by Tuesday." Oliver was cool because he did not pay to sail - he worked alongside them all. She respected that.

To say Oliver had yet to sail would be a laughable understatement – he owned his own boat and as often as he enjoyed going out on the water where it was docked, he just as frequently enjoyed joining on with others and venturing into their journeys. Eric had been left at home with Oliver's parents in the south of England with a promise to behave himself (though the dog rarely did, if ever). Ollie had jumped at the chance to sail with the Deas again, regardless of their ship being larger and thus more work than his own.

Darcy's voice broke apart his dream regarding Ariel and Ollie's dog, and he shook off the sleepiness to call back, “On it, love! On my way.”

By now, the Deas had to have caught onto his tendency to jokingly flirt with any and all women, or to use pet names with those he knew he could never win over. With his impressively bad track record with girls, Oliver had decided that giving up was the worst course of action. Eventually, he would probably just run into someone by accident and have the lot of it work out. But for now, he was content to joke around, play cards, and go sailing.

Throwing back the covers, Ollie made to get ready for the day, dressing and pushing his hair back into some semblance of a hairstyle before bounding up the stairs to greet everyone. “Morning.” he offered by way of greeting, nodding in the direction of those nearby. The job he'd been found to be best suited to was that of one either dealing with the ties and sails, or being your average fix-it type fellow. If he was given a request, Oliver would sooner spend all day on it than give up. It probably had something (well, everything, actually) to do with his being out on the ocean. If he was, say, in the kitchen, he would have rather just ordered take-out. It was easier, more likely to keep things clean, and generally kept things from ending up burnt.

His mind, of course, traveled back to the topic of breakfast. “What can I do to help?” He asked Darcy when he'd found her. “Food wise, or in general.”