The Happy Harpy

Chapter 6 - Fair Winds and Following Seas

"There's no poop out here."

The Happy Harpy's bow slices effortlessly through the swell, seafoam gurgling playfully and splashing up in a misty spray. Her sails are full, proudly dragging her along, making up for the time they lost during the delay in leaving the harbour. It is a pleasantly warm day, a refreshing breeze cooling down the rays of the steadily climbing sun burning down on the ship.

Olivetta loves days like today, where there is enough cool air to fill her lungs, the sun is neither too hot nor too weak, and there are no stormy clouds ominously gathering, threatening to ruin her mood.

After showing Joce how to undo the laces so that she could rid herself of the cumbersome dress, she brought the child outside to get some air and help her find her sea legs. The little girl is having a mild case of sea sickness; nothing that stretching her legs and gazing out at the horizon will not cure.

They are sitting side by side on the special bench Rhyder built for her to sit with her legs through the railing of the short, high deck located in the back of the ship. This deck provides a conveniently elevated point for observations and is often used by Lawson when he wants to plot a course through a tricky area. Olivetta loves to sit out here, looking at the rows of churned-up water appearing from beneath the belly of the ship.

"What do ye mean, mon petit?" she asks in answer to Joce's observation, following the girl's gaze to the freshly scrubbed boards of the deck behind them. Richard Ambrose insists on all the decks being cleaned at least once each day; he is not nearly as big a savage as the rest of the crew of the Happy Harpy. His strictly disciplined naval training won't allow him to stand idly by while the ship is consumed by grime.

"I thought it would be covered in bird poop," Joce remarks, looking up at a couple of gulls lazily sailing around in the blue sky above them. Not a care in the world. "Or rat poop, but it is clean here."

She gasps, looking up at Olivetta in sudden horror.

"This is not where we have to come to poop, is it?"

"Oh, dear! Non! Ye and I use the seat in me cabin. Remember, I showed ye?"

"Oh, aye! I forgot," she giggles, the sweet sound like foamy bubbles floating around them. "The hole in the corner with the lid ye said I must be careful not to fall into because there's nothing under it but the sea."

"Aye," Olivetta smiles, not entirely sure where the child's questions are coming from. She'd been daydreaming, gazing off into the blue horizon, feeling almost content with the little girl leaning up against her side. "Do ye need to go back and use it?"

"Nay."

At first, the child had been very quiet, pale and sickly, but the fresh air and steady view of the horizon are helping, and the girl is finally stirring, starting to ask questions, enjoying the comforting closeness of the woman's body next to hers. It's been a long time since Joce experienced any form of affection, and she is basking in it.

"Is this deck only for the men to use for that, then?"

"Non, mon cher, most of them use the head as a latrine. It is on the other end of the ship. It is a grid, hanging out over the ocean, and there is a rope with a cloth dangling in the sea."

Joce scrunches up her face, looking more confused than pleased by the information.

"Then why is this called the poop deck?"

"Oh!" Olivetta laughs, finally grasping what it is that has the child so concerned about the crew's bodily functions. "It's from the French word for stern, la poupe. I suppose we could call it the stern deck instead. It has nothing to do with excrement. Nobody is pooping out here."