Valeria Jimenez: From Castille to Canguine

[CaitlinCallahan]

As she opens her eyes, her brow wrinkles slightly in confusion, and it takes a minute for her to realize where she is. She’s laying in a hammock, not a bed, and the hold of the ship looks nothing like her room in her parents’ home, where she's spent all of her almost seventeen years. She closes her eyes, and allows herself to feel the pang of homesickness for just a moment, before steeling her resolve, and rising from the hammock. Her first few steps are a bit unsteady, as she tries to adjust to the rolling of the ship.

She carefully makes her way on deck, and her face lights up at the view. The sun is just above the horizon, its rays piercing through the cloud cover, and reflecting on the surface of the sea, painting the normal blue with pink and orange. Any trace of homesickness disappears, and her spirits lift at the beauty in front of her. She makes her way to the rail, and leans against it, obviously lost in thought.

“Now ye’ve done it! I’ve seen that look all too often – ye’ve gone an’ lost yer heart t’ the sea, haven’t ye.” The rough Inish brogue drags her out of her musings. Regretfully, she drags her eyes away from the picturesque view, and turns to the woman beside her. “I think you may be right, Nessa.”

The crewman was Nessa Mac Conmara, a blonde woman who hailed from Inismore. Valeria had met her not long after she boarded the ship a few days prior. The woman seemed a bit rough around the edges, but her welcome had been enthusiastic. She had even provided tips on how to adjust to the movement of the ship, though Valeria wasn’t certain that the motivation for the advice was entirely altruistic. The hint of a smile plays at the corners of her mouth as she recalls the previous evening’s conversation.

The blonde woman eyes her as she holds on to the rail, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip. “Ye’ve no’ sailed afore, ha’ ye lass. An’ that wasna a question.” She adds with a grin. Valeria struggles to smile as she introduces herself. “Valeria Jimenez. And you’re right, it’s my first time at sea.” “Please t’ meet ya. I’m Nessa Mac Conmara. Welcome aboard. Ye may wanna stay below decks when the sea gets choppy – at least until ye get useta the movement o’ the ship. An’ make sure ye’re drinkin’ plenty o’ water. Should help keep yer stomach settled. Las’ thing we need is another newcomer hurlin’ the contents o’ their stomach all over th’ deck.” As if on cue, one of the other passengers rushed to the rail, and proceeded to vomit the remains of their lunch into the sea. She grimaced at the sight, then turned back to Nessa and nodded, thinking that it should be easy to remember those two things.

Her thoughts return to the present. “You may be right, mi amiga. There’s just something calming about being on the water. I mean, I’ve always thought the sea was beautiful, but being aboard ship – there’s just something….” She pauses, searching for the right words. “apacible - calm, peaceful – about it.” Nessa snorts. “Aye, we’ll see if yer feelin’ the same way when it’s stormin’ such that the sea is churnin’ and the sails are tryin’ t’ escape the mast.” There’s a slight softening in her eyes that belies the harshness of her words.

Valeria glances at the water, then turns back to her friend, smiling. “Nessa, mi amiga, my dear friend, I have a favor to ask.” The Inish woman narrows her eyes. “An’ what might tha’ favor be, lass?” The smile widens into an outright grin. “Well, I think I’d like to spend more time on the water. But I’m guessing that most ships would be looking for experienced shiphands, so I was hoping that you might be able to teach me a thing or two.” Nessa rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “D’ ye think I’m a miracle worker? The trip t’ Canguine isna exactly short, but it’s hardly long enough fer ye t’ learn all ye’d need to.” She pauses, her eyes traveling to the blade at Valeria’s hip. “Now, I might be able t’ teach ye the basics, an’ if’n yer any good with the pointy stick on yer hip, that might be enough t’ get ye a place on a crew.” Her tone grows serious, and her voice drops to a whisper. “Ye’ll no’ be lookin’ t’ crew with us on the Kestrel – the cap’n does regular runs to Avila, an’ it seems like yer none too keen on headin’ back to Castille any time soon.” At the reference to the ‘pointy stick’, Valeria playfully scowls at her friend, as her left hand moves to the pommel of her blade. The light in her eyes dims a bit as her friend continues, and her grip on the pommel tightens. “No, I don’t believe I’ll be returning to Castille any time in the near future.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Nessa clears her throat. “Well, I suppose it’s best t’ get started then, since I’ve only got a wee bit mor’n a month t’ teach ye a thing or two about sailin’, afore we reach Canguine.” Valeria smiles at her friend, her gratitude evident in her gaze. “Thank you again, Nessa.”

The remaining weeks of the journey pass by very quickly. Nessa starts with the basics, spending what spare time she has teaching Valeria the basics of ropework, to ensure she knows which knots to use for various purposes. After the first week, she sits on her hammock and slowly flexes her hands, careful not to burst too many of the blisters. She carefully wraps her hands in herb-soaked strips of linen, her nose wrinkling a bit at the odor. Nessa seemed a bit too cheery when she recommended this treatment for my hands. Will it really work?

When she wakes the next morning, grimacing slightly, she flexes her hands. Whatever Nessa put into the herb blend seems to have worked. Her hands are nowhere near as stiff as they were the night before. With a sigh, she stands and stretches, then heads up the ladder to the deck.

The weeks fly by quickly, and she can now claim a confidence in basic sailing skills – knotwork and rigging being her primary focus. She’s also quite proud of her sea legs. At least two of the Kestrel’s other passengers never really adjusted to life afloat, and she cannot imagine how she would have handled it if she were in their shoes. She often finds herself humming Inish folk tunes. Once Nessa realized that she could sing, she started supplementing the sailing lessons with music sessions. Valeria smiles at the thought, realizing that the Inish music has really taken root in her heart.

Almost before she knows it, her last night aboard the Kestrel arrives. Once again, she finds herself on deck, watching the sunset paint the waters. Nessa joins her at the rail. “So, tomorrow we reach Canguine. Are ye sure ye’re ready t’ be on yer own, lass?” Valeria breathes in deeply, holding the breath for a moment as her eyes close in contemplation, before she slowly exhales. “As ready as I can be.” She opens her eyes and turns towards her companion. “Thank you, Nessa, for everything.” She grins mischievously, as the smile reaches her eyes. “For the ‘sailing lessons’, the singing lessons, but most importantly, for your friendship.” A blush rises to Nessa’s cheeks. “Tis nothin’. Yer a good lass, an’ whatever ye’re fleein’, I hope it never finds ye.” She reaches into a pouch at her belt. “Here. Tis a letter o’ recommendation from th’ captain. Should help ye get aboard with a crew after we reach land. Not sure which ships’ll be in port when we get there. The Misty Cat’s a good ship, with a good crew. Captain’s tough, but fair. Then there’s the Sparrowhawk. First mate’s a bit full o’ himself, but the captain treats his crew well, and the cook’s amazing.” She pauses, obviously lost in thought, before nodding slightly. “If the Waverunner’s in port, ye might want t’ check her out. First mate’s a bit of a grumpy git but takes care o’ the crew. Any one o’ those three should serve ye well. None o’ them make regular runs t’ Castille.”

Valeria’s smile becomes a bit melancholy, as it finally hits her that she’ll be saying goodbye to this new friend in the morning. “Don’t suppose I could persuade you to come along?” Nessa chuckles. “Na, the Kestrel’s m’ home now, an’ I’ll not be leavin’ her, not even for you, my friend.” Valeria impulsively leans in and wraps Nessa in a hug. Initially, the Inish woman tenses up, but only for a moment. Then she relaxes and returns the hug. “It isna like ye’ll never see me again, lass. After all, Canguine is still the Kestrel’s home port. Eventually, we’re bound t’ be ashore at the same time.”