Right on time

As Brenan approached the pier where his schooner was berthed he saw two large wagons loaded with hundreds of crates.

"Good." He grunted aloud startling Harry. "Ambrose may be an ass, but at least he wants this delivery to go off without a hitch." Harry nodded in quiet agreement. Brenan was starting to like Harry more now that the lad wasn't constantly yapping his jaw.

Three burly looking teamsters and one of the two bull necked men that had been escorting Ambrose when he had met with him at the bar. None of the teamsters gave any indication that they might help unload the wagon or carry the contraband aboard. That was just as well. Brenan decided, the fewer strangers that climbed aboard his new boat the happier he was.

His crew were busy though, he could see a steady stream of crewmembers hauling the unmarked crates up the gangway and passing the boxes to others down below through the main cargo hatch. Sasha thank-Crews must be one of the hands in the hold. With her distinctive red hair all sorts of rumors would spread around the port-town in no time.

"I guess we have some work to do still." Brenan said as he climbed off the shipyard wagon pleased to see that Calisto didn't seem put off by the sight of some muscle building labor. The new recruit was surprised however when Brenan peeled off his shirt and joined the crew as they worked.

"Hi Captain." Grinned James as he passed him on his way to get another load. "Mr. Michaels has two boxes marked for us." He told him. "Oh yeah and he did the count too." Brenan had a smile on his face as he carried one crate after another up onto the deck. His new crew were impressing him with their initiative and diligence. Not that Ambrose was sure to cheat him, but he might - and quite often small crates like these 'fall off' wagons providing teamsters with significant extra income.

After a while Brenan slipped below and helped Mr. Michaels and Sasha finish stacking the crates and securing them to the iron rings recessed into the cargo deck flooring. He was surprised by how well Sasha was working even after a full hour of stowing the crates. Brenan and his gun-chief were both sweating and grunting as the last few crates were handed down, but his cook looked as cool and poised as ever as she matched the men box for box.

Brenan had no time to ponder the mystery that was Sasha. He still had to get the supplies that he and Castillo had bought onto the ship, return the shipyard wagon and get the schooner ready to sail on the evening tide.

The first thing to do was to get rid of these rotten old water casks and get the new ones in place.

"Kyle!" He hollered up from the hold. Get Tyler and Calisto to haul these stinking casks out of here to make room for the new ones.

"Captain?" Called out Mr. Michaels as the old barrels were about to be lifted to the deck. "Can we keep these as targets for the guns?" James watched his new Captain as he considered the gun chief's request, he knew that many captains considered target practice as wasteful as shooting bags of silver crowns out to sea. How much money would Brenan be willing to spend to have his gun crews be able to aim with any effect?