Galt had only been on a ship once in his life, prior to this trip. He was a small boy at the time, barely remembering it other than flashes of his cabin and a friendly interaction with other children on the ship. Now, with rain and wind slapping him in the face harder than Bonnie ever did, he sort of wished he had stayed off and kept the fond memories. 

The red haired captain had told him where to be with a mysterious air, something Galt now recognized as mischief in her eyes. He was sure his disguise was alright, but he supposed if she believed he was an able bodied sailor, he would be a boon up here...maybe? Galt didn't know. All he knew was it was miserable, and ever creak from below or wave that send the [i]Weather Witch[/i] flailing, he felt his teeth and ass cheeks clenching. It wasn't the heights that got to him, he had been atop many a building. But most buildings didn't sway like a sword being waved in the air. 

"Oi! Newfish!" He heard below him. Galt squinted and look downward, clinging to the wooden mast for all his life. If he survived today, he would praise the sea goddess for her mercy. He saw a man wearing a bandana in the envious position of being just seven feet off the ground, clutching the ropes like a spider on some of the square-shape rigging. "Pull the lanyard! Do it or we're scuttled!" 

"What!?" Galt cried, holding his hand to his ear. His hair matted across his face, rain running down every pore of his skin. The wind howled, the ship lurching to the left and he felt the air flee his lungs from fear. Truth be told, he heard the man, but he did not know what the bloody hell a lanyard was. Unfortunately, if he didn't do whatever this seadog said, it might lead to his death. 

"The lanyard!" He cried, and when Galt still shook his head, the pirate pointed indignantly. Lighting flashed, showcasing a kraken tattoo on the man's thick arm. Galt followed his finger, eyes whipping to the point of origin and finding a rope he fancied was thicker than the others. The thief decided it was the best guess, and with an energy borne of fear, Galt swung like a southern ape and reached the rope, yanking on it furtively. "Other way!" He heard the man cry desperately, and Galt redirected his stance, pressing his feet against the mast and yanking for all his worth. 

A belaying pin popped, and a small fraction of the sail tumbled downwards. The heavy bar struck through the rope Galt held in his hands, and instead of letting go, his fear had him holding on for dear life, and he was suddenly sent hurtling downwards, his feet losing purchase against the mast. Galt screamed, but his dignity was kept as the storm was a bit too loud for it to be heard. Galt was flung across the breadth of the ship, and he suddenly found himself very aware of the endless ocean beneath his feet, a dark wave slamming into the bow sending sea spray up his trousers. If the rope was cut or broken, he would have plopped into the briney deep and no one would even know he had died, much less mourn him. Luckily the rope was thick, and after a few, horrifying moments, he swung back, his feet hitting the rail, which finally gave him the shock he needed to let go of the rope. The thief hit the slippery deck and rolled across the floor. 

As luck would have it, his head hadn't been banged up, and no bones were broken, though his skin was likely bruised to hell. He planted a hand on the slick wooden paneling and lifted his eyes skyward, to see the captain standing over him, holding the ship's wheel and keeping her aloft.