Genre: Comedy | Word Count: 1200 | Prompt: Coming Undone
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The Isle of Skjønn. Sean MacDougall, first mate of The Flyin’ Scotsman, breathed deeply of the Scandinavian dockside air; nothing like the tang of salt and fish-guts to invigorate a braw pirate such as himself.
Skjønn was a favourite port of the crew of the Flyin’ Scotsman, and it did its best to make the pirates feel welcome and give them a place to spend their loot. It offered the finest whiskey found not on the shores of Bonnie Scotland, and their Haggis was delicious – almost like his mammie used to make. It also offered the best entertainment a lonely Scot could ask for at the local tavern for the price of a pint.
This time he would be more vigilant; he would check that fresh water baffle valve personally. Nothing would get by this Scot.
He propped a foot upon a toolbox on the quay and allowed the stiff breeze to whisper freely under his kilt. Fist braced on his hip, he supervised the men bringing aboard pallets of vegetables, salt pork and even cages of live chickens. First the riggers would fashion a harness around the cargo with ropes, taking extra care that the ropes were secure and that the load was balanced before they would attach it to the hook swinging from the derrick. The derrick, a swivelling timber arm mounted on the dock, would then lift and swing the cargo onto the ship, where another crew of riggers would detach it and start undoing the ropes. It was tedious, yet necessary.