Night to the world, unchanging light to the sea. The Ulysses pushed forward, displacing grand but comparatively minuscule tonnages of water. Life aboard the Ulysses murmured to a minimal 'nnn' of the small AC lights, the drone of the large motors of the engine room, and few recalcitrant voices defying the silence with bedside and bedtop whispers aside from those few who were still awake, manning the night shift.
Hours passed, the Ulysses continuously slipped forward through the liquid black. Early in the morning small voices and lighter still footsteps issued cooks going from their quarters to the kitchen to begin preparing a hearty breakfast for three hundred men and women. A buzz heard from the Captain's room.
"4 o'clock. Good time as of any to start the day... hmm.. this bed is actually quite nice." Thought he, as he got up. He dressed and walked out into the hall, neglecting his boots for simply socks. An officer passed by carrying a large bowl of oranges, chef's toque atop his head. He stopped and looked perpendicular to the direction that he was walking.
"GOOD MORNING, SIR!"
"As you were."
"AYE AYE, SIR."
He continued on his way.
. . . . . . . . "Pheesh! We're all going to go insane
if everyone is going to be this uptight for the next three months. I need to do something about the formal atmosphere, before somebody snaps.."
He went back inside, casting a small forlorn glace at his shoes before looking at his uniform dress boots. He looked back at the shoes. Then the boots.
"The trials of a captain." he humored to himself.
The shoes fit comfortably, in their casual running type fashion, and he departed the room heading towards the kitchen, not before entering his captain's log.
The chefs were already quite busy, bustling about stirring this, melting that, frying other, with a tremendous amount of noise and steam. They already had been for the past hour. The shouting from many of them wasn't angry, not even slightly frustrated; it emanated with delicacy, happiness and dedication. Even though these men and women were navy officers and working at attention, they were loving what they did and enjoyed every second of it. One caught sight of the Captain, standing at the door, peering with curiosity and intrigue.
"Good Morning, Captain!" he said.
The clinking and scraping of tools and utensils quickly stopped, all eyes on his person, movement only registered by what was absolutely mandatory. A pan seemingly caught on fire, issuing one Chef to look away and return his attention to cookery.
"Good morning, my cuisine artists."
The pleasant casual addressment caught many of them off guard.
"I am very thankful for your service and I must indicate that today is a special occasion. Would you please ensure that the breakfast is as to fit its celebratory nature?"
One of the chefs stepped forward, hat most erect of them all. He recognized him, this Sous Chef, drafted into the Ottoman Navy after serving for many years in a popular high-class restaurant. He had probably seen more authoritive figures than the captain had, but definitely had more years.
"What is the occasion, Captain?"
"Navy Day. I declare that we will celebrate our positions in the world."
"Certainly, sir."
For a moment nothing happened, both the Captain and the group adorned in clean white awaiting a response from the other.
"Excellent, as you were, gentlemen."
Work erupted back into its regular complexity in less than seconds. The atmosphere seemed more jovial this time. The captain began his walk back to the bridge.
- Captain's Log- Columbian Waters ~ August 2nd, 1942~4:03am
Delightful sleep. Engines are a nice touch to the ambient noise.
To do:
- Eat breakfast
"loosen the team up"
find something swell at the bottom of the ocean
Out of Character said:
Sorry this went for so long without update, guys. I don't know what to do when the Creative Juices stop flowing for a stint.
To Late-comers awaiting the opportunity to join: Users in military positions, go ahead and act as if you're always been here, in same fashion as every one else. It is roughly 4 am, breakfast is at 6:30 sharp.
To Lichowlevy: you will be joining very soon. Sorry this is taking so long.
