The Mellow Beat

A Mellow Beat

As the old boat graoned in protest, Kale wondered for the umteenth time what had posessed him to sign on for this nightmare of a trip. Truthfully he wasn't that fed-up with life back on the Street. High finance was good, the highs were great, the lows were temporary, and things always worked out if you were fast, smart and had good backers that didn't get in your way too often.

Yes, his life had been pretty good. The pace, the drive, the intense beat of the Street, yes life at teh top of LA's financial sector was good, intense, high stress, but good. He'd had it all. So why oh why had he taken that left turn one day while walking down by the harbour? Lunchtime, a good morning start followed by a long slide to mediocrity, then he was looking at an afternoon of druding through paperwork... So he had opted to take one of his rare walks at lunchtime. Hopping on the trolly he had managed get to teh harbour to wander around, clear his head for a few before heading back.

But that was then, and it' was definitely too late to turn back now. Kale shifted his weight as the old wooden square-rigged schooner rolled across the top of one more swell, Captain was right, these swells weren't bad but they were prevalent off the point by Cabo San Lucas. The ship was taking on crew for a transfer voyage, the owners needed her sailed down the west coast, through the Canal, and into to the Carribean where they were starting a charter business in the style of the old days.

On a moment of impulse Kale had wandered onto the old ship, balancing delicately up the gangplank, and looking around teh ship at the invitation of a man who appeared to be the captain of the old wooden schooner.

Thinking back on that conversation, Kale realized he should have asked so many more questions, it was all just a sham, they wanted warm bodies to pull the ropes and shift things... But it had been presented as an adventure...

He remembered hearing somewhere that an adventure was 90% boredom and 10% life threatening mind blowing terror. So far all he'd seen was the boredom. In truth he was going nuts. It was hard to have so little to do, no crisis, no emergency, no anything. He was expected to be up at post for 4 hr shifts three times a day, and to help out the rest of the time if needed. In return they were paying him a nominal wage and he got the food and drink he could handle.

All the food and drink he could handle? Kale had to smile at that , for the first three days he hadn't been able to handle any food at all, and only a small amount of drink...

"Kale, hand off, and head aft, Cap'n wants a word!" The orders, barked forward at him from on of the other rigging rats caused him to look aft himself where he saw Cap'n waiting. Tying the ropes he was workng with, he made them fast and slithered down out of the rigging himself, nimbly picking his way acrsss the busy and active deck.

That was something else, when he had walked up that gang-plank for the first time, he'd barely been able to keep his balance and had weighed in at just over 280, while now he was "dancing on the slope" as the other's called it, and had dropped well over fifty pounds if he was any judge.

Swinging up the ladder to the Aft Deck, where the captain was waiting, Kale shifted uneasily while meeting the man's solid and stoic gaze. That gaze never shifted, never softened, but that wasn't such a bad thing, as the Cap'n never rose to a fury either.

"Cap'n?" Kale started, deferentially.

"Kale. Kale Jorgensen. Financier from The Street in LA. Now a rigging rat, and a healthy nible one at that." The Captain was rambling, his thoughts evident in his manner, and from past experience Kale new that rushing him wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Kale. What're you hoping to get out of this trip?"

"Captain?" Kale started a question, only to realize he was asking the wrong question. Coughing to clear his throat and start over, he tried again.

"Captain, I was just wondering at that myself while up in the rigging. I was wondering if I was missing the Beat of the Street, but truth is I can't say I do."

"So your not regretting the choice then?" The captain gestured vaguely North and East, over to where the city of Cabo San Lucas would be, over the horizon. "We can swing in and drop you, you'd be back on dry land in a day, two tops."

Kale paled, sudddenly nervous, the thoughts of the intensity of the Street overwhelming. He could go home? Could he go home, drop back into the pace of the Street? His stomach flipped, and his vision went blurry.

"Ah, that's about the reaction I expected Kale." The Captain had a knowing look on his face, "But I'd like to offer you an alternative, if I may. You're sitting as a rigging rat on my roster, but the truth is that we're heading to port right quick here, First Mate is asking to be put off ship, he's gotten a yearning to make babies and raise a garden. So Third to Second mate, Second to first, and I'll be needing a Third mate, somebody to keep over third watch. What'd you say, can you choose to leave the Street behind and take up a more mellow beat in your life, maybe permanently?"

Kale's knees betrayed him and he dropped. The anxiety of the last few moments washed away in gratitude.

Looking up with relief on his face and tears in his eyes, he nodded. "Aye Cap'n."