Celeste grimaced as she examined the ship's stores, running her fingers over the oiled wrappers that kept the water from what was contained within. In this case, hard tack and jerky. Then there was the precious barrels of fresh water. They were surrounded by water, bourn aloft upon it. Water as far as they eye could see in any direction and none of it potable. Many items in the cargo were spoiled if touched by water. Their food for instance, which would mould readily should it become damp and their powder which would become useless if damped. Most of the cargo was well bound and unlikely to move given the rough waters that were brewing.

Climbing the stairs to the aft castle Celeste emerged from the dimly lit interior into the overcast day upon deck. Rain. Droplets struck her large black hat and made the deck slick beneath her bare feet. Salt water was horrible for a pair of boots and given the recent weather she had hers locked away under her bunk.

"Master-at-arms! Check the seals on your lockers. I won't have our guns or powders fouled."

No one aboard a sailing vessel actually carried weapons during regular day to day events. It was a sailing tradition to prevent mutiny. All the crew's weapons were locked in a large chest and sealed against water. Only the captain, herself and the master-at-arms had the key. Should a suspicious vessel appear on the horizon or should they disembark to raid a port the weapons would be distributed.

"Bo'Sun!" she exclaimed, "You were supposed to have this deck cleared hours ago. What excuse have you?"

Celeste was angry, her ruby lips drawn tight into a pout. Such sloth could not be excused. If the man had needed help getting the cargo below decks he should have requisitioned crew to help. Celeste was wondering if they needed to choose a new boatswain, someone more reliable. As it was, she was hoping to avoid a flogging. Such demonstration were necessary but a crewman subjected to one was rarely useful for days.