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Wednesday, January 20, 2016

STO'B 7-2

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GLOSSARY

The gun went off with a half-hearted ‘bang’ that only threw the ball a cable’s length or so, but now the crew was back in its rhythm; sponging, loading, ramming, priming and cocking in only a minute and twenty-two seconds. The gun captain was pulled his lanyard again.

This time, the powder produced no more than a dull roar that sent the ball rolling out the end of the barrel and into the sea, leaving the gun crew to trade blank stares.

“You’re wasting time,” called Philip, walking down the gangway toward the foc’cle with his stopwatch in hand, and the crew heaved on the train tackle, pulling the gun in to sponge and reload it. But again, their rhythm was broken, and two more minutes passed before the gun was primed, cocked, and ready.

“Five minutes, eighteen seconds,” said Philip. He allowed the silence to stretch out, he was not pleased. “Gun three, fire as you bear.”

Gun three’s first shot with the practice powder was loud and true, flying well over a thousand yards before skipping twice and finally vanishing into a wave. Thus it was a game of chance, how far the gun would fire with the strange green-letter powder, very exciting for that part of the crew that enjoyed gambling, bear-bating, and the like. They watched openly, cheering the successful shots, sharing a collective sigh at the duds.

The first hang fire occurred at gun seven, when the captain pulled the lanyard and nothing happened, or almost nothing. There was a faint hiss and a tendril of smoke curled form the touch hole. “Keep clear!” ordered Philip, who had moved behind each successive gun as it was fired, to better judge their efforts. They were all of them deaf from the successful shots, and one of the men, an import from the Tres Hermanas, had never seen a gun fired before and was stepping toward it. “Steigel, stand clear,” said Philip again, grabbing the man by the shoulder and pulling him back from the gun. “It still may-” But the gun cut off his explanation, jerking back with a roar, snapping its tackle tight where Steigel had stood a moment before.

Author's Note|First Post|Previous|Next
GLOSSARY

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