“Personal log, stardate 1607.19 1200 hours, Captain Frick recording.
“The Polar Princess is about to leave Havana, destination Belfast. Eight of us are going to ride the Princess on this trip, not so much as supervisors, but merely as experienced hands willing to help out when needed. Fred, Frieda and Fran are staying on the Fugro, to ride herd on the kids while Deacon John is here as a counselor. Me, Frack, Bernie, Foster, Tina, John, Renee and Harry are the ones hitching a ride. Harry has been in hog heaven this past week, breaking and entering the refrigerated stores. So far, he’s found twenty containers of meat products, including beef, chicken, pork, mutton, and several mixed. Captain Haugen traded four of the containers to Eduardo in exchange for fresh provisions and refueling. He also gifted the Fugro with all the frozen goods they would like, be they meat or vegetable, of which Harry’s found at least three. He hopes to finish that inventory by the time we reach Belfast.
“I’m here to see how a big trading ship operates. Yes, I got the Deliverance down river and around the Gulf, but that’s nothing compared to a big ocean-going ship like the Polar Princess. Time to learn how a real ship operates!
“Here’s to a week or more of learning, not leading! I’m looking forward to this!”
Forty-six hours after departing Havana:
Captain Haugen was in his office, doing something he actively detested, that being routine paperwork in a decidedly non-routine manner. Harry Bell is being very thorough in his examination of the refrigerated cargo, and that is leaving Van with several perplexing questions, like what to do with all the stuff he has in cargo. Not to mention handling his crew in these unforeseen times. Nobody has gone completely mad yet, but he does have six crewmen who are now crew women, and two reduced in age to barely out of foalhood. One of them, Johannes Schmidt, had changed into a griffin, which was tolerable. However, his Second Officer, Einar Einarsson, had been changed into an earth pony. An Icelandic pony variant earth pony. A very small Icelandic earth pony. Van has both Engineering and the visitors working on how to help Einar do his job with some degree of effectiveness.
Just then, his intercom buzzed. “Captain, I have Captain Skinner on line. He wants to speak with you,” said his secretary, Julie Mills. Before she became a thestral, she could not have been called truly competent as a secretary, but he was stuck with her because she had ties to the Home Office in New York. Her cousin Sonya is the deck cadet, the one who tripped on the guard cable during flight lessons.
“Thank you, Julie. Pipe it in here, please,” Van said, watching his phone. When a light came on, he picked up the receiver in his glow. “Go ahead, Edgar.”
“Hello, Van. We’re going to make a mid-voyage pit stop. Maasvlakte has picked up a weak, repeating Morse transmission from the Royal Navy Dockyard in Bermuda. It’s not responding, so Lorelei wants us to check it out. Think your crew is up to it?” Captain Skinner asked.
Van didn’t hesitate. “Send us the course you want us to follow. Maintain the separation or close in?” he asked.
“We will converge closer to Bermuda. We’ll each send a RHIB over to investigate, along with some fliers. We should be there by nightfall tomorrow,” Edgar reported.
“I wonder what we’re going to find,” Van asked. “Do you know what the message said?”
Some noise was heard, like the hedgefog was looking for something on his desk. “Just that there are two people holed up at the Dockyard, there are some sort of crocodilians crawling about, and they are staying on their boat to keep away from the crocodilians. Crocodilians. I have an idea or two about what they are,” Edgar said.
“What’s that, Edgar?” Van asked.
“Pure trouble, that’s what. Look up a ‘cipactli’ in the monster files, and catch up with Captain Frick. He can tell you something about cragadiles.” Edgar replied.
“Okay, I’ll do that. Let me get the Princess headed that way. Keep me informed if anything new comes in,” Van said, getting up.
“Will do, Van. Fugro out,” Edgar said before hanging up.
“Polar Princess out,” Van replied, heading for control. There, he gave Chief Cranston the news about changing course and heading for Bermuda.
“Stay at fifteen knots?” Crank asked.
“Edgar didn’t say, but I would presume so. The Fugro can only do sixteen.”
“Sounds good. Want me to check out the RHIB’s?”
“Do that. I don’t know who or what we’ll need, but I want to make sure we can do this.” Van answered.
“Want to take over for a while so I can go talk with Andy about getting the boats checked?” Crank asked.
“Go get it done. I’ll stay until you get back,” Van said. Crank left Control, heading for where he knew he could find Andrew Bolton, the Chief Engineer. He was right, finding Andy in his office with Deacon Doyle. Andy had been changed into a hedgefog, like Captain Skinner. Unlike Captain Skinner, what was once he is now she. That fact did rattle Andy a lot, but counseling is helping.
“Pardon me, Deacon,” Crank said as he entered the office. “Andy, there’s some sort of distress call coming in from Bermuda. We should be there tomorrow night. Captain wants the RHIB’s checked out to send a rescue in.”
“Roight, then,” Andy said in his characteristic Devonshire accent. “Let me finish the session here, and I’ll get onto it. If we not to be there until tomorrow noight, no need to rush.”
“Fair enough. Time to get back to control. Carry on, both of you,” Crank said before leaving the office and heading back up to Control.
The next evening, off the coast of Bermuda
Both the Fugro Symphony and the Polar Princess anchored about half a mile offshore of the Royal Navy Dockyards as the sun was setting. From the Fugro, Chief Quinn and Lillian Shepard, two dragons, rose off the deck and waited as two forms lifted from the top of the superstructure of the Polar Princess, they being Frack and Bernie. Together, the foursome flew to the island to begin the search.
“We’re still receiving the signal, so their transmitter’s still working. Question is, where do we look?” Chief Quinn asked.
“I did some research. The Dockyards are now a shopping mall of some sort,” Bernie said to the others. “There are piers there. Maybe overfly it and see if any of the boats have power?”
“Good an idea as any,” Lillian said.
The foursome flew to the east side of the peninsula, where the wharves were. One thing they noticed was that there were cragadiles wandering the streets in that part of Bermuda, some catching some sun, others hunting, some just prowling. In the waters of the wharf, some larger fish were swimming about. Both dragons grunted when one of them came out of the water. “Captain’s not going to like this,” Lillian said.
“Not like what?” Bernie asked.
Lillian pointed with a claw. “That creature there is known as a cipactli. Captain met up with one in Brazil last year. We got it, but he was beat up for a while,” she said.
“Ouch,” Frack said before a flare rose into the sky from a boat in the wharf, a red ball arcing up.
“Did anyone see where it came from?” Quinn asked just before a flashlight shone up in their direction.
“That boat there,” Frack commented.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious…” Quinn muttered as the four descended to the boat, a small two-masted sailboat with a motor, as evidenced by the lights on in the cabin. Standing on the deck, waving the flashlight, was a hedgefog, clad in a rather baggy set of shorts, held up by a heavily reefed-in belt.
“Halloo there!” a British voice called up. “Can use some help here!”
“That’s what we’re here for!” Lillian called down as the four circled in for a landing. Fortunately, the sails were furled and stowed, sloppily to be sure, but there was plenty of clearance for the four to land without ramming a mast.
After landing, Chief Quinn was the first to step forward. “Berry Quinn, Chief Officer of the Fugro Symphony. With me are Lillian Shepard, our Medical Officer, along with Frack and Bernie, passengers and instructors aboard the Polar Princess,” he introduced the group.
The hedgefog stepped forward, hand extended, grinning with relief. “Doug Perrin, Captain, Royal Navy, retired. Waking up like this four days ago was a blasted surprise. Miss Shepard, maybe you can help with my wife. She stumbled going up the steps and broke one of her forelimbs,” he said, first shaking Quinn’s claw, then Lillian’s, while smiling at Frack and Bernie.
“Please, take me to her. I’m sure I can do something,” Lillian said.
“This way, please,” Doug said, leading them into the cabin. There, they found a deer sprawled on the settee, her left foreleg wrapped in a crude splint. “My wife, Ellen.”
Ellen looked up from where she was lying. “Hello,” she managed to say in a weak voice.
Lillian immediately got to work, checking and resplinting the broken limb “This will hurt some. We better see about getting you to the Fugro for proper care,” she said quietly. Ellen just sagged back down, limp.
Chief Quinn stood next to Captain Perrin. “It seems to me you were completely unsurprised to see us. How could you have known?” he asked.
The hedgefog smiled genially. “Simple. After waking up like this, one of the first things I did was to scan the world-band radio frequencies. I found DJ WSU right off, which inspired me to jury-rig a transmitter, tap out a Morse transmission into the computer, and send. Been a while since I was Radio Officer on the old Cattistock. I knew, through DJ WSU, that the Fugro Symphony and the Polar Princess were coming up the Gulf Stream, so I took a flutter on you being from one of those ships,” he explained before sagging some, losing his smile. “Ellen and I have been married twenty-six years now. This cruise was to be our long-delayed honeymoon. This happens, we change into these creatures, and the crocodilians outside really have put paid to my good humour. Is it possible to hitch a ride out with you, Chief Quinn?”
Quinn put a hand on the hedgefog’s shoulder. “We were planning on sending a couple of rhib’s over in the morning, but seeing your wife like she is advocating a change in plans. Can this boat still sail?” he asked.
“Oh, yes!” Doug replied, some spark coming back to his face (and off a couple of quills, but he didn’t notice that). “Still have fuel in the tank after sailing here from Nassau. We were anchored offshore when this happened, so I weighed anchor and pulled in to see what there was to see. Needless to say, after getting here, we decided to stay aboard. Safety, you know. Those crocodilians are fast!”
“That they are,” Frack affirmed. “We had an encounter with one in Key West. Good thing my brother was quick on the draw.”
“Your brother is Captain Frick, the Star Trek fanatic?” Doug asked.
Frack nodded, his gold mane flying about. “Sci-fi addict since Captain Video, our parents said. Been listening to his log tapes?”
“That I have. You know that DJ WSU podcasts his log tapes every other day, or whenever she gets an update?” Doug asked.
“Just wait until we get to Maasvlakte. Brother was a radio station engineer and part-time deejay ever since he graduated college. He has some programming changes in mind,” Frack said in a dry tone.
While Doug talked with Frack, Quinn went to the ketch’s deck to call the Fugro. After establishing contact, he said “We’re going to have to do the transfer tonight. I would not risk the rhib’s though. Cipactli about.”
“Oh, bother. One of those can swipe through a rhib’s hull without thinking twice. Do you have an idea?” Skinner asked.
“Yes. The couple here are on a motor-sailor ketch. I propose we sail out to meet you, then transfer the couple. Would be a shame to cast this boat adrift. It is pretty nice,” Quinn reported.
“You could always return the boat to its mooring and fly back. With Bernie on your team, she can be your lookout for any trouble in the water,” Skinner told his Chief Officer.
“Good idea. Let me bounce it off the boat’s owners and I’ll get back to you. Quinn out.”
“Fugro out.”
When Quinn ducked back into the cabin, he first checked with Lillian, who was tending to the now-unconscious deer. “How is she?”
Lillian hissed some, clearly unhappy. “There’s only one thing aboard they could use as a painkiller and anesthetic, and she’s been sipping constantly for three days now! Berry, she’s on the edge of alcohol poisoning!” She took a breath before continuing. “I want her on the Fugro ASAP to treat her properly!”
“Edgar’s come up with a way to do just that. We don’t want to use a rhib in these waters, so we’re going to sail this boat to the Fugro,” Quinn told the ship’s medic.
“Well, get a move on. We have one sick and hurting deer here. She needs care, and the Fugro has what we need to care for her,” Lillian growled.
“Will do, Doctor,” Quinn said before going to where Doug, Frack and Bernie were talking.
“Pardon me, but we’ve come up with a way to get the two of you to safety. Bernie, you’ll be the lookout. Frack, you and I will handle lines. Captain Perrin, start your mains. We’ll sail to the Fugro and get you and your wife secure, unloading whatever you want to bring with you. Then, Frack, Bernie and I will sail the boat back here to this slip and moor it securely. Captain Skinner is sure you don’t want this boat cast adrift.”
Captain Perrin first looked startled, then relieved. “You are correct, Chief Quinn. Ellen and I rented this ketch in Nassau before sailing here to Bermuda. Casting this boat adrift would be a sin, really. Parking it back here after we’re finished will be a far better fate. Go ahead and cast off all lines. Starting mains,” he said, some snap coming to his voice.
Frack and Bernie both saluted the hedgefog. “Aye, Captain!” they chorused before heading outside.
“Are they always this bonkers?” Doug asked as he started the boat’s engines.
“Doug, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
“Personal log, stardate 1607.22, 1600 hours, Captain Frick recording.
“Two more days before we arrive at Belfast. There, the Polar Princess will remain for two weeks of refitting, to make it more four-footed compatible. All of us passengers aboard the Princess will transfer back to the Fugro for transport to Maasvlakte, where I’m looking forward to getting back to the job I’ve been doing since college, that being working in radio. I’m sure Sandra will be happy to have an aide who knows what he’s doing.
“Some good news about the new friends we picked up in Bermuda. Captain Perrin has commanded several ships in the Royal Navy, and has requested to go into administration. His wife, Ellen, is recovering from her broken leg with good treatment and therapy, and is interested in potions. She was a compounding pharmacist and is interested in how potions are made. We went through a lot to get ingredients, and I’m interested, too, but not so much as to do it full time.
“First big chore to do once we get to Maasvlakte is to pick out and fix up a house. We’re going to need a fairly big one, because I plan on moving in with Fred and Frieda, and he’ll want a big common room for services. Frack and Bernie will want a room as well, as will Fran, Michie, and Capo. I hear that bird is making himself into a popular pest aboard the Fugro. I’ll find out for myself soon. Now, it’s time for dinner. Time to see what that goofy Filipino parrot has made for us today!”
Frick shut off the recorder, stowed his tablet, and made his way to the mess decks and Chef Aquino’s version of meated and meatless pork adobo. He decided the salad bar would be better, taking a good-sized bowl back to his room. The cooked pork smelt horrid to him, not to mention a few others. The pork they cooked on Deliverance was bad enough, but this…