WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Wind and a Cluster of Stars

Chapter 8

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Fair Wind, A Revealed Problem

15. Fair Wind

April 10, evening.

The wind was changing.

The wind that had been at our backs on the way here had shifted while we stayed.

Just as navigator Zenon said, it was turning easterly again.

I called Zenon and the sailors and told them to prepare to set sail tomorrow.

They had not gone through anything especially hard, but I still acknowledged their effort in guarding the ship and let them have a little drink at the tavern.

Everyone ate their fill at dinner.

During the meal, Amy introduced the kitten as our(...) new family member.

The sailors could not hold back their laughter when they saw the little cat in a blue pillowcase.

In truth, keeping animals on a ship was not a problem at all.

People raised hens for eggs, or ornamental birds as a hobby.

Dogs and cats were standard.

Still, this cat looked especially funny because of the outfit. Its fur was pressed flat, so only its sticking-out head and legs stood out.

Sadly, whatever the cat thought of it, it had to keep wearing that outfit until its cold got better.

Amy had no intention of taking it off.

...

In the morning, everyone had a bowl of potato soup simmered in rich broth at the galley.

Hot, savory soup packed with onions and potatoes was food everyone loved, and it gave us the push we needed to wake up on a still-chilly April morning.

There was even a little precious black pepper in it,

so everyone who ate it praised it.

It was our last meal in Hamburg before departure.

-Ding ding ding

I rang the bell, and we set sail.

The Balsa moved out with its usual heavy weight.

Still, it was not as heavy as when we carried ingots, so it moved along well enough.

The hold was stacked with neatly folded cotton bolts, and beside them were wooden crates packed with straw and filled with lily-of-the-valley perfume.

Unfortunately, because of these goods, the sailors' space became very tight, and as captain I felt a real burden.

I always thought this, but I really wished the ship were just a little bigger.

If it were bigger, we could stack cargo on deck and cover it with canvas,

but the Balsa was too small, and there was no room for that.

On top of that, the rolling was too rough. If we did that, the load would smash this low railing and fall into the sea right away.

In the end, there was no real solution.

When sailors rested in shifts, they squeezed into gaps between the cotton bolts and lay in hammocks beside the perfume crates.

I had no choice either. My own spot was filled with cargo, so even the floor where I sat now had three layers of cotton cloth spread on it.

Ingots had been heavy, but compact. These were huge in volume...

Even through all that trouble, the Balsa rode the wind westward.

If we kept this fair wind, I figured we would arrive around lunchtime the day after tomorrow.

...

April 12, morning.

If we told rough sailors to cook, there was no way proper food would come out,

so Amy handled it all herself.

On a bigger ship there would be a dedicated cook, but we did not have many sailors...

Amy was decent at cooking, so she could make a few kinds of soup and fish dishes.

After a simple breakfast, anyone with spare time went fishing.

As the men stood still like old trees, curiosity lit up in the cat's brown eyes.

The cat had nearly recovered and was healthy again. It wandered around and picked Zenon as its target.

It grabbed the leg of his coarse sailor's trousers and started climbing up with its claws.

The cat climbed quickly and eventually reached his shoulder.

"Ha ha!"

I laughed at the sight. Zenon lowered the hand holding his cigarette, calmly grabbed the cat by the scruff, and set it on the deck.

The cat did not care and grabbed his trouser leg again, hanging off it.

...

"Whoa! Look at this!"

Something big had taken one sailor's line.

Another sailor helped him pull,

but the pull from the other side was so strong it was not easy at all.

After wrestling with it for several minutes, the line snapped around the middle.

Even though it was a tough silk fishing line.

"We used sardine as bait, so it is probably a tuna species. Tuna move in schools,

so we will probably hook another one."

A signal came again soon.

The float made from thick reed plunged deep into the sea,

so it looked like a fish with tremendous strength.

"You have to wear it out!"

This time they changed tactics. Two sailors held the line and repeated giving and taking.

After repeating that for more than ten minutes, the sailors seemed tired and the fish seemed tired too.

"Switch!"

The men who swapped in quickly took the line and pulled, and unlike before, it came up without much resistance.

"It is huge! Huge!"

A dark shadow spun fast in circles under the sea,

then finally came up onto the deck with no escape.

The big fish thrashed violently.

"Hyap!"

Amy quickly struck the fish on the head with the hook handle and stunned it.

It was a large bonito, dark blue on the back and silver-shining.

It looked about 70 to 80 centimeters long, and for its size it had incredible strength.

Under Zenon's practiced knife work, the bonito was cleaned and deboned in no time.

Then the cat, Cabbage, got the honor of being first to eat the fresh red flesh, thanks to Amy.

"Oh, so it was a fish we could eat."

When the cat chewed one corner of a big chunk with its molars, Zenon said it as a joke.

As if letting the cat eat first proved whether it was poisonous before people touched it.

Anyway, the big bonito was sliced thin, put in baskets, and set out to dry.

Under clear sunlight, the moist pieces dried in half a day.

People passing by picked them up one by one and ate them.

Of course, Amy carefully tore pieces for the cat and fed it by hand.

"Tasty, right? Yeah?"

Then the cat would shut its eyes tight and smack while savoring the taste.

"That damn cat!"

"Captain, but it is this cute..."

As far as I could see, she was not neglecting her work because of the cat, so I let it pass.

16. The Revealed Problem

April 12, afternoon.

The perfume in the hold filled the whole ship with scent.

If you were not paying attention, you might miss it, but a faint fragrance wrapped around the ship.

No bottle had broken, and every stopper was sealed tight, yet the scent still seeped out from somewhere.

Even the cotton bolts stored beside it had absorbed the fragrance, giving the white cloth a refined feel.

Inside the fragrance-filled hold, one sailor dozed while leaning on a rolled bolt of cloth,

and Amy teased the cat with a scrap of fabric tied to a string.

The ship was heading straight for its destination and making good progress.

I came out of the hold and walked near the stern. Zenon had tied the tiller in place with rope and was smoking leisurely.

The carving one sailor had been working on for days had finally started taking shape,

enough that you could tell it was some four-legged animal.

It was only a few meters away, but when I walked toward the bow, about half the dried bonito slices in the basket were already gone.

I picked one up. It had fully dried, turning hard and translucent.

The red, translucent fish flesh let sunlight pass through and cast a pretty color on my hand.

It reminded me of a piece of stained glass from a London church I had seen as a child.

Or maybe luminous amber, formed when old tree resin hardened in an ancient forest.

I tore that pretty piece into small bits and set them by a gap in the bow rail.

Then I looked down at the deck nearby.

Among the deck planks fitted together, one black line caught my eye.

That part was darkened by rot and grime in the wood, and on a deck that usually stayed nearly dry, that should not have existed.

If grime appeared here, it meant there had been moisture holding dust and dirt in place.

Dry wood did not stain easily.

"Come on..."

As if proving my suspicion, when I pressed the deck plank, a little water seeped up.

This was clearly a dry area, some distance from the outer hull where sea met ship.

So why was this spot wet?

There was only one cause.

This was not a place where we kept pouring water or constantly washing down...

It was proof that water was leaking in from somewhere in the outer hull.

It was not a fatal problem right this second, but it meant water had been slowly seeping in from outside for a very long time, soaking through the grain until it reached here.

When I bought this ship, it was so old that we repaired it some and coated the outside with tar,

but on wood already old and warped, gaps always opened again no matter what you put on it.

"No wonder it was cheap."

The old mansion I got from my uncle almost for free, then sold,

brought in so little money it could disappear after a few meals out.

All that money could buy was this old commercial Balsa.

And only now was the result showing itself.

"Ah... do I have to dismantle the ship and rebuild it..."

At that point I might as well buy another one.

That would take far too long, and at that cost, buying another Balsa would be better.

Even with the money I had now, I could buy a new Balsa.

With what I earned in Amsterdam and from selling the glass beads.

Still, I wanted a larger, sturdier ship, and if this happened now, it would throw everything off.

A Balsa itself did not cost that much, but this meant my days of making small profits with a small ship would drag on longer...

...

"What is wrong, Captain?"

Amy asked when she saw me moving the cotton bolts.

"I think the ship is leaking!"

I moved the cotton bolts and touched the inner hull wall closest to that spot.

Just as I thought.

"Ah... my god. It is damp."

Moisture spread onto my hand.

"If this seeps into the goods, we will have a real disaster."

If merchandise lost its value, we would have no choice but to throw it out.

It was not that bad yet.

But it was a problem we had to fix quickly.

For now, we moved all goods near the seepage point to the other side.

As a result, the hold became even narrower. Cotton rolls were stacked all the way to the ceiling,

and to enter the hold you had to pass through a narrow gap barely wide enough for one person,

so people gradually started preferring to stay on deck.

...

April 13, noon.

The ship reached London at the expected time.

I moved busily around the deck, still threading through ships coming and going in disorder.

Even so, I trusted Zenon because his helmsmanship was excellent,

so even when we slipped between fat galleons by a hair, or boldly cut across the front of a tea clipper despite being a slow ship, I only clenched my fist and did not worry too much.

First, we moored at the quay and unloaded goods.

We moved the bulky cotton rolls first, carrying them by cart borrowed from the trading post.

They were goods we had to sell no matter what.

Demand was high, but supply was high too, so we could not keep them on the ship waiting for prices to rise.

"Right, the honey jar!"

When we removed the cotton rolls, a honey jar appeared from a corner, tucked away so badly it had been invisible.

Sadly, the small amount I bought had only now finally seen daylight because of the cotton.

...

"It is merchandise I like."

The trading post owner said he liked it in a routine tone.

He spread out the cotton and checked its condition, and seeing him keep smelling the fragrance, it seemed decent enough.

I had not intended it, but the cotton had absorbed a pleasant scent over time.

We had packed it tightly together in a narrow hold, so that was natural.

Other trading post owners came by to see too, and that scent earned its worth.

"Hmm... how much will you give me? I got it directly from the weaving craftsmen."

"The weave is good. This should fetch a good price."

I managed to get about 3% above the usual average margin right away.

On top of that, I had bought this slightly cheap in Bremen, so the profit was fairly good.

As expected, the honey I had not even counted on got a poor price.

The quantity was too small, and the buying price had not been good either, so in the end I sold it for less than 1% profit.

"Next time, no more honey."

Next was the item I expected most, the lily-of-the-valley perfume.

I had the highest hopes for this, and for good reason. It was a luxury good and expensive,

and because I bought it at a big discount, it should leave a large profit unless market prices had collapsed.

While the trading post owner in charge of perfume checked the scent after rubbing a little lard on his sleeve,

the sailors stacked the flat wooden boxes one by one.

Thankfully, these were square and flat, so even our small ship could fit 45 boxes.

The trading post owner smelled them, then opened boxes one after another with great pickiness, checking each bottle inside for breakage.

"I will give you 7% above average."

"7%? Hamburg has no more stock. I brought all remaining stock."

"8%."

"It is the last production from last year. There will be no production for the next two or three months."

"9%."

"Still, at least 15%..."

"Is that not too expensive? Then I will not buy."

"Ugh, sorry. 9%, let us do 9%."

"8%."

In the end, I got greedy and pushed too far, and that skilled trading post owner turned it back on me.

Still, because I had bought it cheap and sold even 1% above average, this already high-priced item shone for us.

A little disappointing, though.

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