Atlantic Ocean: The First Day
- At February 13, 2022
- By Great Quail
- In White Leviathan
- 0
1) The First Day
Off the Coast of New England, November 1, 1844
A) The First Hours
The first few hours of the voyage are a confused jumble. Natty Weeks attempts to organize the swine into some kind of order amidships, Seph Lovecraft can’t find his chine hooks, and James Cabot begins weeping uncontrollably. Meanwhile, the officers are faced with the challenging task of setting sail with an untested crew. Leaning on experienced hands such as Peter Veidt, Owen Love, Henry Swain, and Pig Bodine, they attempt to unfurl the courses and set the jibs. Mr. Pynchon takes a practical and patient approach with mistakes, but Mr. Whipple goes to great lengths to challenge, bully, shame, and coerce greenhorns into performing their new duties—“Jesus fucking Christ, Nelson, what are you wearing? Is all that purple blinding you from seeing that’s a brace, not a sheet? Should I tie colored ribbons on every fucking line, just for you?”
Player Characters
The player characters have much to do these first few hours. Mr. Coffin has orders to give, and Beckett and Redburn are obliged to carry them out. The Keeper may call for Strength rolls to measure this new pair of sailors: pulling on halyards is hard work! Dixon and Quakaloo help set the sails, and Morgan has equipment to check. Confined to her cask, Rachel must now deal with something new: the queasy motions of the ship. Only Dr. Lowell has any leisure time, and as long as he stays out of the sailors’ way, he may do as he pleases.
B) Let ‘em Climb the Riggin’ Like His Daddy Used to Do…
The most feared duty for a greenhorn is “going aloft,” and there’s no loftier place to go than the ship’s mastheads. As whales are exceeding rare this close to shore—Nantucketers fished out these waters sometime last century—there’s little risk in assigning lookout duty to greenhorns. A devotée of the “teach them how to swim by throwing them in water” school, Whipple turns to a pair of NPC greenhorns and barks, “Up them masts, boys! All the way to the t’gallant crosstrees. You there: take the mainm’st, and you: the fore. Who knows? You may even see a whale!” While the unlucky pair may be determined by the Keeper, they both make the journey without incident, Whipple cajoling them as they climb: “Faster, monkey! Never mind the sway! An’ remember: keep your weather eye open, and sing out every time!”
Sadly the greenhorns only last an hour: one can’t stop vomiting, and the other comes down on his own accord, terrified and willing to accept Whipple’s ferocious abuse. Whipple turns to two slightly-more experienced hands: Beckett and Redburn. “What are you waiting for, you poxy bastards? Show me your backsides!” (If Beckett and/or Redburn are not in the game, the Keeper may substitute Quakaloo, Dixon, or secondary characters. However, Whipple is more deferential to harpooneers than foremasthands.)
Going Aloft the First Time
Both Beckett and Redburn are rated as ordinary seamen, but neither has gone aloft in a long time. This requires a combination of climbing feats: scrambling up the shrouds, going over the top, and finding reliable handholds and footholds. Fulfilling Whipple’s order requires two rolls: a Climb roll and a Sanity roll.
Double Success
If both rolls are successful, the character goes over the top on his first try, earning himself an automatic 1 Sanity point and +1D4 points in Climb. A successful character need not worry: he has proven himself. Going aloft is now considered automatic, and only requires a Climb roll under adverse conditions. He may continue up to the crosstrees.
Mixed Success
If one of these rolls succeeds and the other fails, the character is forced to use the lubber hole, and Whipple piles on the scorn: “What?!? I thought you were a proper seaman, you fuckin’ lubber! Do that one more time, I’ll have One-Button Jake reduce your share to the thousandth lay!” If Whipple makes an Intimidate roll, the berated character must make an additional Sanity roll for a 0/1 loss. Regardless of Whipple’s diatribe, the character must continue to make both rolls every time he goes aloft until he finally “goes over the top.”
Failure
If both rolls fail, the unfortunate character freezes at the futtock shrouds. Unable to go on, he’s forced to endure the laughter of his fellow sailors and Whipple’s infuriated haranguing. Returning meekly to the deck, the character makes a Sanity roll for a 1/1D3 loss. Whipple assigns him the filthiest chores he can imagine, and orders the unfortunate sailor to report to the mainmast at the beginning of his next watch. As expected, the moment the character appears Whipple orders him to stand masthead again. The rolls are repeated, but now the character has a –1D10 penalty burdening his Climb roll. A second failure results in a Sanity roll for a 1/1D4 loss. Worse, the character is considered “Unlucky.” (See “The Curse of Jonah” for details.) The cycle repeats itself until the character is successful or loses 10 points of Sanity, at which point he’s considered useless. Unless the character redeems himself, he’ll be discharged the next time the Quiddity reaches port.
Critical Failure
A critical failure on one roll cancels the effects of the other roll, even if it was a critical success! A critical failure triggers an accident, and the character falls to the deck for 1D10 HP damage. If the Climb roll was the critical failure, there are no further consequences. However, if the character critically failed his Sanity roll, the Keeper may burden him with a future –1D10 penalty on his next three Climb rolls. Once the character has recovered from his injuries, he’s expected to try again, and the initial rolls must be repeated.
C) Establishing Watches
Sometime during the afternoon of the first day, the foremasthands are called to a general assembly near the windlass. Mr. Coffin and Mr. Whipple divide the crew into the standard watches, the “starboard watch” and the “larboard watch.” On most whaling ships, these watches are headed by the first and second mate respectively; but the crew is told that Mr. Whipple is being given “increased responsibilities for his future command.” The actual reason is more sinister: Mr. Pynchon has too many extracurricular duties to be assigned a watch, and Covenant business takes precedence over standard protocol.
Schoolyard Pick
The officers assemble the foremasthands into groups, roughly in the following order: New Englanders, other whites, Portagees, Kanakas (Polynesians and other Pacific Islanders), American Indians, and finally Negroes. The mates ask a series of questions regarding the men’s experience and abilities, and after a few passes through the line, they square off and select their watches, with Mr. Coffin getting first choice for the starboard watch. The watches are generally selected in the order as specified above, though experienced hands are always favorites. The last men selected are invariably Negro greenhorns.
Mr. Coffin’s player is free to ask whatever questions he likes, and to select whichever sailors he likes. Mr. Whipple follows this list while selecting his watch: Suresh Joshi, Pig Bodine, Henry Swain, Peter Veidt, Owen Love, Virgil Caine, Ricardo Reis, Israel Reed, Tisquantum, Zim Folger, Milton Redburn, Tobias Beckett, Oonaloo, Paddy Garcia, Jimmy Cabot, Duke Nelson, Isaac Townshend, and finally William Crow. After the watches are selected, Mr. Whipple claims the first dogwatch and the cycle begins. Boat-crews will be selected at noon tomorrow, just before the captain gives his traditional address.
D) Seasickness
While some poor wretches become seasick shortly after leaving port, for most it doesn’t begin until twelve to twenty-four hours at sea. By evening, a good number of the crew begin feeling queasy. While even old salts can become seasick, it generally hits greenhorns the hardest. After all, there’s a reason they’re called “green!”
Seasickness
For player characters, seasickness begins 1D12+12 hours after setting sail. Each character must make two rolls: Constitution and Seamanship. Together these are known as a “Seasickness Check.”
Double Success
If both rolls are successful, the character does not get seasick. If one of these rolls was a critical success, the character never gets seasick, no matter the conditions! Otherwise, the Keeper may ask for another Seasickness Check under unusual circumstances: heavy seas, turbulent weather, or a prolonged absence from sea.
Mixed Success
If one of these rolls succeeds and the other fails, the character becomes mildly seasick. He’ll feel nauseated for the next 1D12+24 hours. All physical rolls are made with a –1D10 penalty die during this time. A seaman is expected to continue his duties. Once the illness has passed, another Seasickness Check is only required for unusual circumstances.
Failure
If both rolls fail, the unfortunate character becomes moderately seasick: nausea, vomiting, and vertigo, accompanied by the general feeling of “I want to die!” All rolls—physical, mental, and spiritual—are subjected to a –1D10 penalty die. Additionally, a Sanity roll must be made for a 0/1D3 loss. This condition lasts for 1D4 days. A seaman is expected to continue his duties during this time, but kind-hearted officers are less likely to send them aloft. (Whipple is not kind-hearted.) Once the illness has passed, another Seasickness Check is only required for unusual circumstances.
Critical Failure
A critical failure on one roll cancels the effects of the other roll, even if it was a critical success! The character becomes severely seasick. All rolls are burdened by –2D10 penalty dice. Additionally, a Sanity roll must be made for a 1/1D4 loss. This condition lasts for 1D4 days. During this time, the character cannot perform his duties. He’s confined to his quarters with a bucket, and becomes the subject of ridicule. Furthermore, a critical failure means this character has become prone to seasickness. A Seasickness Check must be made every time the character leaves port after spending more than one day ashore!
The Horrible Cure
Like most ships, the Quiddity has its own traditional “cure” for seasickness: this one passed down from the Black Macys of Nantucket. Characters suffering from seasickness are brought to Mr. Whipple, who produces a slab of pork fat tied to a string. The affected character must swallow the quivering lump of gristle, which is then pulled back up. Enduring this cure requires a Constitution roll. If the roll is successful, it reduces the level of seasickness by one degree over the next 2D4 hours: a mild case of seasickness is cured, while a moderate case is reduced to a mild case, and a severe case to a moderate one. (Though a critical failure still means the character is prone to seasickness.) However, if the roll fails, the character vomits profusely and is required to make a Sanity roll for a 0/1 loss.
E) The First Stowaway
Evening arrives during the second dogwatch, touching the waves with gold and staining the sails with a pleasant, melancholy glow. It’s during this golden hour that Thomas Plunkett discovers a stowaway hidden among the ship’s stores. Caught red-handed pilfering a bottle of whiskey, the stowaway is young Zadok Allen.
Zadok Allen
Age 13, Nationality: American, Birthplace: Innsmouth, 1831.
STR 55 | CON 50 | SIZ 50 | DEX 60 | INT 60 |
APP 65 | POW 70 | EDU 20 | SAN 70 | HP 10 |
DB: 0 | Build: 0 | Move: 7 | MP: 14 | Luck: 65 |
Combat
Brawl | 50% (25/10) |
Dodge | 40% (20/8) |
Skills
Charm 50%, Climb 25%, Fast Talk 60%, Listen 30%, Persuade 40%, Seamanship 10%, Sea Lore 15%, Spot Hidden 50%, Stealth 60%.
Description
A wiry lad from Innsmouth, young Zadok has seen some pretty strange things these last few years. A curious and inquisitive boy, he’s done some snooping, and hasn’t liked what he’s seen about Captain Obed Marsh and his new allegiances to “Dagon.” A few nights ago he was using a spyglass to surveil the town from the “cupalo” of his house—“An’ I seed dark figgers ‘pon Devil’s Reef! They was horrible, all bent-up like hunchbacks an’ sech. An’ ol’ cap’n Obed was there, floatin’ in a dory. An’ the moon come up, an’ all ‘em figgers dove doawn into the water, an’ they didn’t come back up! I swear they was more frog than man, I seed ‘em hoppin’ around!” Catching rumors that a strange event was to take place on Halloween night, Zadok made the sensible decision to get the fuck out of Innsmouth. Hearing that the Quiddity was about to depart, he snuck onboard in hopes of getting far, far away from his blighted home.
Sailors’ Reactions
Needless to say, Zadok’s story creates a minor sensation. Most sailors dismiss it out of hand, the ridiculous “phantasies” of a foolish boy. But a few nod in dark affirmation; especially those familiar with Innsmouth: Quentin Shaw, James Cabot, and Ben Warnock. While they may ascribe his “hunchbacks” to an overactive imagination, they’ll certainly sympathize with his fear of Innsmouth; and Quentin mutters something about the Sabrina.
Pynchon’s Reaction
Having some idea of the truth behind young Allen’s tales, the first mate loudly condemns the lad as a “muddle-headed sneakthief.” He effortlessly tells a lie, claiming “I’ve heard of this young Zadok, and his fondness for his father’s drink. I believe he was caught sniffing around Captain Marsh’s god-daughter Zenobia, if I’m not mistaken? And Mr. Plunkett—you say he was caught stealing the officer’s whiskey?” Zadok protests—“I never spake a word to Miss Zenny!”—but Pynchon shakes his head. He declares the Quiddity is no home for runaways; and besides, they already have a cabin boy. He orders Zadok to be returned on the first homeward-bound vessel they encounter, and confines the lad to steerage.
The Jemma
As luck would have it, three hours after Zadok’s discovery, the Jemma is sighted, an Innsmouth trader headed back to port. One of the last “real” Innsmouth traders, she has nothing to do with Marsh and the cult of Dagon, and after being hailed, Captain Philes dutifully reclaims the runaway.
F) First Night
The first night at sea is rarely easy for greenhorns. Even worse than the seasickness, the sunburn, and the cramped and malodorous sleeping conditions, is the shipboard schedule, the cycle of four hours on/four hours off. And woe betide the greenhorn who refuses to wake for his watch! Even experienced hands have to re-acclimatize themselves to the watch system. It’s the Keeper’s solemn duty to make this inaugural night completely miserable. General restlessness and bad dreams are de rigueur, and there’s always the introduction of curious rats. This is an excellent opportunity to dole out some nightmares or “flashbacks.” These episodes also allow the Keeper to inject a few notes of drama into the more quotidian rhythms of shipboard life.
White Leviathan, Chapter 2—Atlantic Ocean
[Back to Chapter 2: Encounters | White Leviathan TOC | Forward to Encounter 2, Selecting Boat Crews]
Author: A. Buell Ruch
Last Modified: 25 February 2022
Email: quail (at) shipwrecklibrary (dot) com
White Leviathan PDF: [TBD]