Blue waves crashed against the solid planks of a proud new warship. The broad stripes of the British naval flag flew against a brightening sky. The blazing sun peeked just over the horizon, skipping its rays across infinite water and illuminating a blanket of fog. The ship's crew was already up and working, scrambling across the deck and through the riggings to keep the giant ship afloat. She had been a treasure escort back in her prime, but was now headed across the great Atlantic to fight the wretched American colonists, who had just recently proclaimed their independence.
The crack of boots against timber and the creak of a sea-weathered hinge announced the arrival of the admiral, a tall, handsome man in his mid-twenties. He had proved his worth before by his hard work on deck and in skirmishes against the Spanish armada. As he stepped out, he drew his cloak closer around him against the early morning chill.
"G'morning to you, Admiral Montgomery."
Montgomery looked down to find Captain Smith, his daytime crew leader.
"G'morning to you too, Captain Smith. Had any trouble so far?"
"None sir. The crew just changed shifts on the last ha' hour and they're puttin' the sails out a bit so we can catch the morning drafts wi'out tearing the masts off."
"Good plan," Montgomery nodded absently. "Any idea when all this fog should burn off? I can't see a damned thing."
"You weren't awake too early the last few days," Smith smiled ruefully, "but on those days it burned off an hour or so after the sun come up, so it shouldn't be long."
