Wind buffeted the ship, affecting it's natural cause in the form of creaking sails and shouted orders. The man looked up from the page in front of him, glad for a respite from the midsummer heat, and took in the sudden bustle around him. They hadn't been moving for four days now and the ship came alive like a kicked anthill at the promise of full sails, everyone scurrying this way and that. Well, almost everyone. The man looked back down at his mostly empty page. There was a line scrawled across the top but it had been discarded and summarily crossed out hours ago, the slight momentum it represented but a faint memory.
"Ay! outta the way kid, work needs a'doin here"
He looked up at the sudden interruption to his reverie, and then jumped up and out of the way of the glaring sailor holding an expanse of thick rope. A muttered apology and quick duck belowdecks later and he was back in his reverie, this time taking advantage of an unoccupied barrel by a porthole for some light, glad for a chance to focus on his writing without interruptions. Well, attempt at writing anyway. His introduction letter to the visicar was no closer to completion than it had been when he first negotiated his passage with the captain: "just don' get caught underfoot, last thing i need is ya gettin roughed up by some o' the guys" was how the deal was sealed. So far he'd managed to stay out of trouble but hadn't made any friends either.
The ship began to sway with motion as the sails were filled with wind and he breathed a little easier. Bored sailors were troublesome sailors and a becalmed ship in the middle of the summer months was ripe for exactly the kind of trouble he had been warned to avoid.