Captain Rene Chartrand looked at his ship, the Dijon, as she lay on the sand, battered and beached by the storm, then he glanced further down the shore at the broken remains of the Moutarde and sighed. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun he sought out his First Mate Alaine Clermont. "How many healthy men have we left?" he queried.
Alaine looked up at his from his seat on a barrel, and replied in a matter of fact tone, "Between both vessels we have about two hundred men fit for service and another fifty that will be fit in a few days, the rest are drowned or soon to be dead".
"Food and water?" the Captain queried.
"We are fortunate in that we had just been re-provisioned; enough to last us six weeks at full rations. Much was spoiled but then, many men are dead, so it works out rather well"
Chartrand felt somehow annoyed at Alaine's callous tone but tried to focus on the matter at hand. "How long do you think it will take to get the Dijon afloat?" he asked as he gazed at the rigging trying to determine how badly the lines had been damaged.
Alaine leaned back on his seat, squinted against the sun and replied in a surprisingly confident tone, "Twenty-one days exactly, M'Lord"
"You are a wonder-worker Alaine, just three weeks? That is wonderful" Chartrand was elated at the good news, he had been dreading spending the better part of six weeks on this God-forsaken beach.
"Be careful of what you wish. I said three weeks because the extreme high tide will lift the vessel in that time regardless of whether we have made her seaworthy or not. One way or another there will be sea beneath the keel."
Chartrand felt the blood drain from his face and his shoulders slumped, how could his first command of a ship have ended so poorly? "Well we will certainly have our work cut out for us then".
Alaine replied with a chuckle, "I wouldn't be too worried M'Lord, we are unlikely to be alive at the time of the tide"
Chartrand shot him a quizzical glance, "Good God man, what are you talking about, you just told me that we have food and water for six weeks!"
Alaine gave him a graveyard grin and pointed southward across the dunes at the line of figures on the horizon, "There were only one or two an hour ago, now there are dozens, within a couple of hours there are likely to be hundreds. They are here to pillage the wrecks and we are in their way"
"We can let them have the Moutarde while we keep the Dijon, no blood needs to be spilt over this" the Captain said hopefully as he gazed at the tiny dark outlines on the edge of the dunes.
"I like your way of thinking Captain, but, as soon as they find out that we are Freedonians, they will want our heads. The Sultan of Nylia still has a bounty on Freedonians sailors, ever since the Battle of Guigal Gulf in 1602. His favorite son died there fighting against us."
"Well then. It seems that we have an abundance of problems this day my dear Mr. Clermont. Have the men gather any arms and powder that they can find. We will construct a barricade of wreckage, barrels and crates and see about getting a few cannons off the ship to provide these scavengers a warm welcome".
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