[ Discussing the charts goes as well as it can. According to Lane, Crozier instructed their group to meet at Cape Herschel on the southern shore of King William Land, should the ships break free from the ice come summer. They're well behind schedule, though. Between the late thaw and the lack of able-bodied manpower, progress has been extraordinarily slow. Crozier told them to turn around if there was no sign of the overland group by September 1, yet here they are, still crawling south toward the uncharted leg of the Passage.
It's practicality, argues Lane. When the pack finally unclenched its jaws, they knew it was likely too late to make the rendezvous point, but there were no leads to the north, and retracing their steps would only trap them again. South is their only option. There will be sheltered harbors near Cape Herschel to overwinter in.
And if they do happen upon any remnants of Crozier's group, well... Won't that be something?
Hickey allows Lane and Hodgson to plot their course without argument. The charts mean little to him, and he gleans all he needs to know from the conversation between their two best experts. It's possible that Des Voeux may have an opinion or two to add to the mix, but Hickey is in no hurry to grant that scab of a man access to the officers' table.
So: It's south, then, as far as they can make before winter closes in. They've a week or two of decent sailing ahead of them, a month if they're lucky, and that will have to do.
He escapes to the deck as soon as the others shamble in from furling sails for the night. The cold is miserable, as ever, but he minds it a bit less with his newfound immortality. He's wearing his scarf again, somehow relatively unsullied by the Tuunbaq's claws, although the death of his coat means he's stuck with a heavy, too-big overcoat. It's warmer than the longcoat and will hide his chest more effectively, but he dislikes the way it bags around him. He keeps getting stuck on things.
He's just lit a cigarette when he hears the main hatch open. It's Angelo, thankfully. Hickey grins. They haven't seen much of each other yet today.
The vague news about Tozer does not immediately concern him. There's a fair chance Angelo is grousing over some minor irritation. ]
What's he done?
[ He offers Angelo the cigarette and very kindly resists an "I told you so". ]
no subject
It's practicality, argues Lane. When the pack finally unclenched its jaws, they knew it was likely too late to make the rendezvous point, but there were no leads to the north, and retracing their steps would only trap them again. South is their only option. There will be sheltered harbors near Cape Herschel to overwinter in.
And if they do happen upon any remnants of Crozier's group, well... Won't that be something?
Hickey allows Lane and Hodgson to plot their course without argument. The charts mean little to him, and he gleans all he needs to know from the conversation between their two best experts. It's possible that Des Voeux may have an opinion or two to add to the mix, but Hickey is in no hurry to grant that scab of a man access to the officers' table.
So: It's south, then, as far as they can make before winter closes in. They've a week or two of decent sailing ahead of them, a month if they're lucky, and that will have to do.
He escapes to the deck as soon as the others shamble in from furling sails for the night. The cold is miserable, as ever, but he minds it a bit less with his newfound immortality. He's wearing his scarf again, somehow relatively unsullied by the Tuunbaq's claws, although the death of his coat means he's stuck with a heavy, too-big overcoat. It's warmer than the longcoat and will hide his chest more effectively, but he dislikes the way it bags around him. He keeps getting stuck on things.
He's just lit a cigarette when he hears the main hatch open. It's Angelo, thankfully. Hickey grins. They haven't seen much of each other yet today.
The vague news about Tozer does not immediately concern him. There's a fair chance Angelo is grousing over some minor irritation. ]
What's he done?
[ He offers Angelo the cigarette and very kindly resists an "I told you so". ]