"À l'horizon!" Jacques called jubilantly as the others set about their assigned tasks. As the sails came down, they were filled with wind and began to tug violently against the masts. A moment later the ship began to plough through the waves, picking up speed at a rate that the new sailors would be more than a little surprised by. Jacques grinned and took hold of the tiller, running his hands fondly over the pitted wood before turning it to port. Spotting a small island in the distance, little more than a rock covered in chattering seabirds, he decided to make that their first waypoint and set it to their bow.
As he steered, he glared at Zeke again.
"In words that you might understand then. Hold your tongue and don't interfere with the running of the ship, or I'll have you thrown overboard."