Isaac was finally up from his chair. He had rarely moved from it the entire time they had been on the boat, and he was feeling somewhat restless. Also, after a few glasses of moonshine lemonade, he didn’t care so much that the water was so big. Large? There was a lot of liquid out there.
He wandered about the ship for a little while, inspecting some of the ropes, which seemed very secure. Not going anywhere at all were they. Actually, speaking of not going anywhere—
He stepped up next to one of the other men. Mr. St. Clair? Sinclair? Something Clare. Names had been tossed around and introductions had flown, and he was pretty sure he had that Clair part down. He braced his arms against the railing.
“This is a race, isn’t it? Why are we going so damn slow.”
@ambrosestclair
