Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Predator Prey - 14. Maps and Tracks
"So, how do you like navigation after three days, Wally?"
This from the First Mate, Calvin Scheck. The Mate had been teaching him basic principles of navigation. Unlike his work with the Engineer, this had been largely a mental exercise. In fact, it hadn't been much exercise at all.
Scheck didn't appear to realize his intern had more than half a brain, so much the time they spent together was wasted on busywork. Or so it seemed. Paperwork, mindless articles to read in his nonexistent free time, and silly paperwork. On this morning, they stood on the bridge after Scheck had briefly gone over the instrument and gauge panels with him.
"I like it fine. Sir." He'd never get used to the quasi-naval language the crew used.
A serious-faced brown skinned crew member had the watch. He looked alert, but relaxed in a pretty casual looking khaki uniform. Technically, the man was steering the Feigenbaum on a course determined by the Mate, in concert with the needs of the scientists on their cruise. As a practical matter, the ship could pilot itself while the person on watch checked the instrument panels regularly, and looked carefully out the glass into the clear blue horizon of the Gulf of Mexico.
"Everything here okay, Luis?"
Luis was indeed attractive. There was a stirring, very brief, in his gut, before he remembered how his last trawl for a bedmate had turned out. The bitter memory left a nasty taste in his mind as if from a bad piece of fruit. He almost physically turned away from it.
The younger man didn't turn from watching the sea ahead. "All's fine, sir."
"Good. Right, Wally, let's hit the chartroom."
"Yes, sir," he said, but not without taking a second look at the guy standing watch. In another time, another place, he'd have entertained the thought of making a move. But not now. No, definitely not now. Most of the time, he was exhausted, or close to it. Sex – even with his hand – rarely surfaced on the sea of his consciousness. Briefly, he wondered if Marc knew this would happen.
He sighed, and then it was back to chart reading.
But the Mate had no intention of spending his entire morning stuck in reading and interpreting charts. In fact, with over an hour to go before the end of the watch, the Mate straightened up from the expanse of blue and yellow they were examining, and handed over a yellow legal pad.
"Here. Take this and make a list of all the various kinds of lights, their types, and their positions from here" and he pointed to a spot on the chart, "to Tampa. You'll find the other charts you need in the file. Give me the list at noon."
Either it was an especially easy task for a dull student, or he'd learned what to look for quickly. In any case, he had the task finished well before the watch ended. After returning the charts carefully to their proper spots, he gathered his list and emerged into the brighter light of the bridge.
The same interesting caramel skinned guy was there, still standing watch. Maybe a little older than he was, but not much. Black hair combed back, falling down his to his neck. Clean shaven. What was his name? Luis?
"What are you looking at?" Luis asked, interrupting his silent examination. Damn, he'd been caught.
"Nothing."
Silence for a moment. "You like workin' with Cal?" Luis spoke again, still gazing out on the smooth waters of the Gulf.
"It's okay. I'm just doing chart shit. Seems pretty basic."
Luis cocked an eye at him.
"I thought there'd be more to it. I mean, it's just symbols and coordinates, and…" he trailed off.
Something about Luis' facial expression made him want to reconsider his words.
"…but I guess there's a lot more to it."
The watch keeper's face relaxed. "Yeah, it's all about having it mostly in your head at the moment you need it. You're right; it's not rocket science, but it's important stuff, you know?"
He nodded in response.
The engines throbbed distantly. Eventually, a hand was offered. "Hey, I'm Luis. I see you down in the mess sometimes. You interning with Cookie?"
"Wally. And yeah, I'm Cookie's intern."
Luis grinned. "So, you interning for Cookie, and you charting for Cal, and what else?"
"I have to take this Intro to Operations thing. I spend a few days with different guys. Last week was Engineering, this week…"
"Yeah, I get it," Luis grinned. "You get to see what it's like being everyone's bitch."
He made a face. He didn't like that expression one bit.
Luis changed his tone. "But Cabrera, he's a good guy to work for. He looks out for people, you know? If I didn't want command of my own boat, I wouldn't mind working for him."
He nodded again. It had been good working for Javier. He'd actually taught him some things, not given him busywork as the first mate had done.
"How long will it be until you can take over on your own?" he ventured, trying to change the subject.
Luis grimaced. "For fucking ever, man. First, you gotta go to school, get your papers." The man paused to check an instrument panel. "I worked my ass off for three years," he stated vehemently, still not turning to meet his eyes, "Went all the way to fucking Michigan to freeze on the fucking Great Lakes to get my license. I had to break ice all the way to St. Augustine to get home. Then try to get a berth, anyplace."
Stunned silence.
"Jobs aren’t easy to find. Got lucky on this one. It's not union, but my sea time counts." Luis turned, finally. "I got a wife. A kid. I need this job – you can't have it." Though darker man said it with a grin, it was clear he meant it.
Hands were raised in surrender. "Okay, okay, I get it."
"Shit, kid, I'm just playing with you."
He felt a certain amount of relief. Luis must have been pulling his chain. He really didn't need to get on anyone's wrong side. He couldn't afford to.
"I got a plan," Luis went on. "Work a few extra cruises, take on shore based part time stuff off rotation, save money, I can have the down payment on my own boat in a couple of years."
"Off rotation?"
"Don't you know anything?" Luis asked. "Listen, Wally, it works like this. Most people work every other cruise, about four or five weeks on, then four or five weeks off. You get married, you'll go crazy tryin to do the big container ships. Most of the freighter guys, they got no one, don't want no one. They work eight, nine, ten months of the year, the ship is pretty much their life. One guy I know, he has a wife, and a kid a year old he's never even seen yet."
Luis was getting chatty. There was more.
"This job, you go out your four weeks, you come in for four. If you don't work shore crew, you don't get paid, but I can find other stuff for a month at a time on shore. Compared to freighter shit, this job is pretty good."
"Does the Captain have a life? I mean, does he rotate on an off, too?" he thought to ask.
"Yeah, Cap George rotates. He's Senior Captain, and a prof, too. This spring, he'll do the February cruise, then take over teaching a University course on shore; one of the Assistants will take over for the Spring cruise.
It all seemed like a well-oiled machine; everyone playing a part. It seemed like a decent life, at least if you were young and had few attachments. And you had enough work to keep you from being bored.
At that moment, the Mate reappeared. "Hey, Wally, you got that list? Let's go over it in the twenty minutes before lunch."
He nodded to Luis. "See you. Thanks."
Luis smiled back and waved. The Feigenbaum plodded slowly through the brilliant blue Gulf, gathering data.
Many thanks go to Craftingmom for her kind and consistently generous editing; and to Mikiesboy, Carlos and Spike for their beta reading.
- 37
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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