Dream Life - 477 Episode XVII

I’m leaving for Jilsol today.

After enjoying yesterday’s fall festival with Liddy and the others, I’m feeling a little sleepless because I was drinking with the Dwarves. The festival itself also has a number of offerings that make it seem like the best commercial city in the world, and it sounds a little like I’ve been drinking since daytime.

Still not as ill in itself.

The weather I was worried about is fine and the autumn soft sun and refreshing breeze are pleasant.

I have already made many adjustments with the Deodard Chamber of Commerce and have concluded meetings with the captains of the ship we board, the Luad Selby.

The captain of the Selby was a small man named Aldas Duncan, always wearing classy clothes like swallow tail clothes, a gentleman so quiet at first that he thought he was a merchant to board with.

I was anxious to know if I could master a sailor with lots of rough men, but when I visited the ship it felt like I respected him, without the muscular big men insulting him. When I heard the story, he was a swordsman who skillfully used the sabel, and a sailor with whom he could easily decorate it.

“As long as you’re ashamed of yourself. Because compared to Sir Zacharias and his wives, it’s equal to playing with children.”

I humble myself by saying so, but I also have fifty one levels and an arm comparable to that of a Rockhart family squire. It’s an unusually high level for a sailor who’s not even a mercenary, and I’d say genius.

The other important figure is the first cruiser, the captain’s right arm. His name was Bad Ramsey, and he was a big man with a crude atmosphere just the opposite of Captain Duncan.

I thought for a moment that I was the captain of a pirate ship because of my untreated beard and blurred hair with a triangular hat, deep scratches on my seared face and a single-handed curved knife (cutlass) so huge on my back that I thought it was a two-handed curved knife (falcion).

“If you leave it to me, it won’t be a problem,” he said on the blanket stick, but unlike the looks and tones, he was also a gentleman to the Liddies.

Our ship, the Luad Selby, is a large sailboat about 40 meters long and 10 meters wide. I don’t know the exact numbers, but the drainage would be something like seven or eight hundred tons.

There are three sail columns (masts), of the type the front foremast and the main mast in the middle are transverse sails and the rear misen mast is longitudinal sails, equipped with the bow and stern buildings, which are large structures in front of and behind the ship.

I may be wrong because I’m not familiar with sailboats, but in the original world they look like the type of carrack ships they call the Santa Maria in Columbus.

There are approximately eighty sailors.

In addition to the captain and the first class navigator, the deck captain (Bosun), the steering captain (Coatermaster) and the controller (Purser) are the captains of each squad.

I was concerned about the fact that there were only eighty crew members on this class of sailboat. My vague knowledge is that a sailboat of this size in the seventeenth or eighth century would have required two or three hundred people.

If you listen to me, they say pure merchant ships are enough for this. My memory sailboat is a battleship loaded with artillery, and I guess I have no problem with it because it doesn’t require artillery manipulation.

He says it’s a big ship, but he knows tens of thousands of tons of class ferries and so on, so he looks a lot smaller.

Compared to the sailboats I’ve seen in Japan, they are wide for their length and look sloppy. It looks big nearby, but I’m amazed at its narrowness when I get on board.

The ceilings are low, there are many bulkheads to increase the intensity, and the dimness and narrowness of what is illuminated by the demonic props of the lights is further accentuated.

The cabin at the stern was also so small that I thought it was a capsule hotel.

Fortunately, we are the only guests and we can still afford two first-class cabins, which are four-man rooms. Not this time, but the second compartment is marked “cabin”, but they just hang the hammock on the lowest deck (Orlop) below the first compartment.

They told me this was happening because this ship was not a passenger ship, but if I was unlucky, it could have been second-class.

Zamuel and the other Dwarf blacksmiths came to drop me off as we headed to the ship. Even so, he says he doesn’t want to stand out very much, so there are only five of them.

“Come back here again. We’ll drink like we did yesterday.”

“I know it will take six months, but please say hello then”

That’s what I said, I shook hands firmly, and got on the boat.

Even though it was in a quiet port when I got on the boat, it was shaking at a slow cycle.

“This wobble is disgusting,” Beatrice said, and Mel nodded loudly.

“Seasickness is something to be prepared for because it’s tough,” notes Kitley, who is used to traveling, laughing niggardly.

“Is it something you must be seasick about?,” Liddy hears.

“They say it’s easier to be a master of martial arts. I don’t know if it’s true.”

Maybe it’s because a martial artist with a good sense of balance is more developed in the Triple Regulation, but it must have been a theory. Perhaps they say it because the master of martial arts is impressed with his seasickness and suffering.

“It’s probably a theory. Because it should have been quicker for people to work out.”

“Oh, you know that, too,” Mr. Kitley surprises me.

“But I’m anxious. I can’t imagine the Dwarves suffering from sickness… so what should I do?”

Sharon complains in tears.

Yesterday, I seem to recall the Dwarves laughing and talking about suffering from seasickness “for the first time I’ve ever known what humans call the pain of hangovers”.

“At times like this, you get drunk before you get drunk. Sorry for the sailors, but let me hook you up for a drink before you leave port.”

This method was knitted when I was in Japan.

There were many opportunities to use the ferry in relation to having lived in the port town of Kansai for a long time. In the case of ferries sailing through the Seto Inland Sea, there is relatively little shaking but still a seasickness when caught off guard.

Sometimes I drank anti-drunken couscous, but if I didn’t need to drive my car, I tried to drink as soon as I got on board.

Now most of the time I never suffered from seasickness. I’ve just been hungover with other guests many times, and it’s not like I didn’t suffer.

For sailboats, you need to tow by hand rowing boat to leave the harbour, and it takes time to get out into the outer sea. For that reason, the six of us, including Mr. Kitley, began drinking.

Even so, I don’t really drink it, but to the extent that I feel drunk.

After about an hour, the shake grew stronger. If you go out on the upper deck (upper deck), you can see the outside, but when you sail, you are reluctant to return it to the sailors.

After another thirty minutes or so, the cabin door is knocked.

Outside was the Comptroller General (Purser) James Sullivan. He looks more like a seared fisherman than the Comptroller General, but he’s used to treating customers and his waist is soft.

“The captain says you should enjoy the landscape because you are away from shore.”

He seemed to know we were reluctant and he spoke up.

The first-class cabin hits the lower level of the captain’s cabin. For this reason, it was necessary to go up steep stairs to get out onto the upper deck.

“You’re narrow and invincible,” said the big Beatrice, zeroing stupidity. Though he did not have a spear and was dressed in an easy-to-move outfit with his protective gear removed, by the way, he was about to hit his head many times at the exits of the beams and narrow stairs that were out.

One level up and out onto the upper deck. Strong tidal scent tickles my nose from the smell of the previous stinking able feeling.

Sail columns (masts), sail girders (yards), and sails (sails) are windy and noisy with bumpy noises. The wobble is also huge, and the complex wobble, which combines swinging pitching back and forth with swinging yawing and rolling left and right, strikes the body, but is distracted by the sea breeze and landscape and not so much concerned.

White traction waves (wakes) stretch from the stern in the blue and beautiful sea, with Aurelia’s walls and coastline greenery visible beyond.

After exiting the harbor, it is gradually moving away, either because it is moving towards the northwest or because it looks at the land on its left hand side, slowly but with a change of scenery.

“That’s amazing,” Mel says out loud.

Her redhead swoops in the wind.

“It feels like the wind is sticking, but it feels good,” Liddy mutters.

The wind does feel good stroking the cheeks lit by alcohol.

“Will this shake last forever,” only Sharon looked anxious.

“You shouldn’t mind. Because it’s harder to get seasick thinking it’s something like this.”

“I will,” but I feel like I’m already seasick.

“I don’t know if the healing magic works for seasickness, but I’ll hang on to it.”

That’s what I’m gonna say. I’m gonna hang a healing magic on my head. It is closer to sedating the spirit with dark attribute magic than with treatment.

I don’t know if the magic worked or if it was a matter of feelings, but the grin was back when I said “I feel a little easier”.

“How about the impression of the sailing trip,” Captain Duncan asked. Until then, he had instructed the sails to be adjusted, etc., but the sailors are also starting to descend from the sail digits, so I guess the adjustment is over.

“It’s comfortable. Well, I was afraid of seasickness, so it’s bad for the sailors, but they’re giving me a drink.”

“I’m a customer, so I don’t mind,” he laughed, “but I’ve never seen anyone deal with seasickness that way before,” he said.

“The wind is also good, so we will continue towards the Vest Sea. Winds are steady this time of year, so you’ll be able to reach your next stop on schedule.”

The next port of call is Portsmere, the Holy King of Lukes. It takes about twenty days on a standard itinerary. During this time I go without replenishment, but there was a reason for this.

Firstly, there are few ports within the northern realm of the Empire where large ships can stop. This had to do with the emperor’s vigilance against the northern governor, who also had reason to limit revenues from the deal as well as not allow him to have a navy.

And behind it is Aurelia’s commercial guild. When a trading port is created in the northern part of the country, Aurelia’s value is diminished, so it works for the elders of the Imperial capital.

I was taught not to drop by from this other point of efficiency.

In the Vest Sea, west of the continent of Tria, you will get slightly southerly westerly winds, so when you approach land, you will stop east, in the form of headwinds when you leave. For that matter, he said it would be better not to stop at the port whenever possible because the speed would drop.

It is normal for a trading ship to have about thirty days of supplies, and twenty days can be managed without replenishment.

By the way, it is pure water that tends to degrade in the tense, but in ships it is not necessary to carry it in a wooden barrel, as in the Great Voyage era, because of the use of the demonic props of water making.

The amount of water that can be served with magic props is not too big as a litre, but it can be used without magical qualities, so its own water can be secured with its own magic power. In addition, there are many water spirits due to the fact that they are at sea, which sometimes means that magic props are more efficient than they are used on land.

Seasickness, which was a material of concern, but there are no people out there who suffer to the extent that Sharon saw something that looks like symptoms.

“Gentlemen, that sounds comfortable for your first voyage,” Captain Duncan praises.

“Get used to your body while you’re at it, as the waves get even higher when you head out into the Vest Sea. I don’t think it would be a problem if you were as masters as you are.”

Sometimes that day was unusual and often spent on the deck. It turns out that the sailors pass nearby, but they’re all old women, but they don’t hang around, and they’re a disciplined ship.

When you tell the Ramsey Voyager about it,

“My people spare their lives, too. There’s no asshole who can’t even beat a captain…”

All sailors know we’re second-degree adventurers and we’re over level sixty. Secondary adventurers are sometimes seldom in Aquila or away from the Saeum Mountains, which the sailors rarely see. For that reason, he told me that he was in awe.

It was time for lunch and the deck smelled like a simmering dish.

There is a kitchen (galley) on the lower level of the ship, which drifts with white smoke from the chimney that stretches from it.

Basically, the food for the guests is the same as the captain’s, unlike the sailors, but there are no cooks for the guests because they are not specialized ships. The head chef (cock) and three assistants will make it together with eighty sailors.

“Would you like a meal?” Sullivan Comptroller General asked. On the first day of sailing, a lot of guests were seasick and unable to eat, so they came to check.

When I asked for a meal, I said, “Would you like to do it in the cabin? You can also take it on the deck,” he further asked.

“It’s a corner, so I’d like to eat here,” Liddy said, telling her that.

The ship is inclined diagonally as it is heading northwest with southwesterly winds, making me anxious to be okay, but Sullivan’s men will quickly prepare wooden tables and chairs.

Both the table and chair can be secured to the deck, more stable than I thought. Furthermore, the table had edges around it, and the dishes were devised not to slip off.

“May I join you, too,” the captain called out.

“Sure, no problem, but are you sure you want to direct the ship?

“If it’s a beautiful day like today, there’s very little I have to do offshore. Of course, don’t worry, Ramsey’s in command like that.”

With that said, point to Ramsey, who is giving instructions to the steerer on the rear deck (coater deck).

“It’s a very painful thing to serve to Sir Zacharias, a gastronomer,” Sullivan says, arranging the dishes.

Lunch immediately after sailing means stewed beef and root vegetables and a raw vegetable salad, along with soft white bread.

“Would you like a drink,” Sullivan asked nervously.

“I don’t have a problem with what they usually serve,” I’ll tell you, but he seems to be just concerned about getting famous for his booze.

Wooden jocks are soon lined up.

“On this voyage we have liquor that will be delivered to the Blacksmith Guild. It’s just difficult to manage temperatures, so I was wondering if you’d be satisfied…”

There was a dark brown beer inside.

After a toast, when you put your mouth on it, it’s an alto type ale, with reasonably well adjusted temperatures, and a slightly sweet aroma that goes hand in hand with the sea breeze is delicious.

Liddy also tilts the jock by saying, “It’s delicious,” and Beatrice says, “This guy’s nice,” all at once.

“That’s very tasty. The temperature is just right. Was it cooled in the cabin (hold)?” Ask Captain Duncan.

“That’s Sir Zacharias. I’m surprised you know the structure of the ship, too.”

The cabin is the lowest part of the ship, where heavy objects such as barrels are stored along with the weight (ballast) that balances the ship. I remember there was a statement that it was always cool from being under the water line and that it was cooling the wine in marine adventure novels and such.

“I heard the sea water temperatures around here are relatively low,” he deludes.

I enjoyed the sailing trip while we talked about that.