Cris watched as the last of the tobacco was hauled across the deck and lowered down into the waiting Pinnacle. Finding a buyer had been easy enough, demand was always high across the ocean and he could afford to undersell the plantations with the way he'd acquired the tobacco.
There was a shout from the pinnacle and they pushed off, slowly they drifted away from his sloop until there was enough room between them to use oars, there was another shouted command and the oars dropped into the water. Cris turned to look at his ship, Airsprite she was called, the decks were well cared for even if the worn planks told of the ships industrious life, his crew lounged around on the deck resting after lugging the cargo about, his eyes slid to the 8 new additions to his ship. Falconet's and older than he at that! naturally he'd insisted they be test fired before they were allowed anywhere near his ship and a good thing at that, one of the tested cannons had burst sending redhot shrapnel in all directions, a miracle no one had been hurt. The cannons had been part of the payment for the tobacco, the rest had been paid in manufactured goods that were high in demand among the natives and money, his share of the money was hefty enough to see him steady for a good few months though it wasn't the windfall he'd been hoping for when he'd acquired the tobacco. He glanced at the guns again thinking about the 12 extra crew he was going to have to find, with a grimace he mentally lowered his expectations of how far his share would take him, perhaps a week of good living.

"Mathews, Henry! Get the boat, I find myself suddenly parched. To the Tavern with us!"