Page 61 | Chapter 3 | The Ghost Ship | A Free Serialized Online Novel by Scott Telek

Iris placed her hand on John’s shoulder, and smiled toward him. He forced a smile in return, and internally exhorted himself to rise from the dark presentiment that had clouded his mind on their short boat trip. He cleared his throat, and, with a cheerful gesture, indicated the path up the gangway.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Are you sure?” she shrugged. “We could just remain in this delightful town.”

John closed his eyes and shook his head, shuddering theatrically. He held tight to the railing as he took his first step up the steep plank. He watched the murky, opaque water where it undulated below, expression of distaste on his face, as though wary of hidden threats concealed in the dark depths. A moment later, he had reached the break in the rail bounding the ship’s wale. Taking a breath, he climbed on, reached the top of the gangway, and, after stepping on board, turned and offered his hand to Iris. She came on, moving to stand beside him, but he stepped in front of her, head arching back to take in the wide expanse of the great deck. He was conscious that the sights greeting him now would be the extent of his world for the next few weeks. Iris stepped round into his field of vision.

The couple stood at the larboard center of a flat well deck. Toward the bows, the deck terminated in a flat wall that crossed the entire width of the ship. Two ladders stood at either side, leading up to the forecastle deck, where the rising foremast loomed, and two doors in the wall below, entering to the forecastle. A glance to the rear showed a tall after house standing between two four-stepped ladders to a raised poop. A thick rail lined the outer rim of the vessel. Directly before them stood the imposing main mast, rising like a grand oak from the flat deck, framed fore and aft by a fife rail spilling curls of line off its upright wooden pins, leaving the sides clear. John let his eyes run up the firm length of the mast, craning neck to view the bold lines and intricate web of cordage above, the heavy spars secured there hanging threateningly above. Looking aft, the ship resembled nothing short of a wire cathedral, the diagonal shrouds creating a bounded inner space within their confines, rising to a peak far above ship’s deck.