Thor and his shipmates

Thor rolled up his sailor's kit and laced it tightly. The butt of a stout belaying pin stuck out from the center of the roll in case of trouble. A short knife went into his belt, and another into his boot. He stowed his coin tight and close to foil cutpurses and headed up on deck.

The mate had given him leave to go, so he shinnied down a rope onto the quay and met a couple of his shipmates headed toward the sailors' quarter. They planned to start the day with a real breakfast, and Thor happily joined them.

"Next let's get a barber-and-bath and find a harbor for our pricks," Thor said.

"Na, Thor, we been dry for days," Salty said. "I want a bellyful of rum!"

"Eh, perhaps, Longshanks," Gaff said, looking up at Thor. "But don't get ahead of yerself."

"Doncha want to save yerself?" Salty asked. "I heard the captain had her eye on you." He laughed, a low gurgle.

"Neh, she'd break it off," Gaff said. "I heer'd that's how we lost the last cook."

"Killjoys," Thor said. "Watch what you say about the captain. I'm sure there's some prickless bilge scum who'd throw it in our faces, and I don't want to break my knuckles the first day out."

"Ah, bring 'em on," said Salty. He held up a fist.

Thor looked back and saw young Nils standing on the busy quay looking a bit lost. Maybe he would want to have a proper port call.

"Kemmawn Thor, breakfast's calling," Gaff said. He and Salty were several yards ahead.