Introduction
The story begins on May 3rd, 1850;
Salvatore Cartwright has never been content to stand still. A restless soul, he left his quiet life behind to chase the horizon aboard a clipper ship, searching for adventure on the high seas. But after years of charting new waters, the world has grown smaller, and the thrill of ocean life no longer quenches his thirst for the extraordinary. Now, Salvatore has set his sights on a new frontier: the skies. With airships emerging as the next marvel of the modern age, he is determined to sail higher than ever before, where the clouds hold mysteries untold and danger is only a gust of wind away. The seas may have taught him how to survive, but the skies will show him how to truly soar.
Salvador Cartwright fought the wooden ship's wheel to starboard, eyeing the clouds through the lightning flashes. The clipper ship Gale plunged through towering waves as the storm raged around them.
"She'll snap us in half!" a crewman yelled over the howling wind.
"No, she won't!" Sal shouted back. "The worst is past now. We just need to ride out the last of it."
The ship slammed into another wave, and Sal held on while men and equipment tumbled across the deck. "Get below decks, lads! I won't be needing you anymore tonight!"
As the crew scrambled for safety, First Mate Peter Tremain made his way to Sal's side. "You should go down too, Pete," Sal urged.
"Nah, I'll stay," Pete replied, gripping the railing, a bandage wrapped firmly around his head.
For the next hour, the two men held on as the storm spent the last of its fury. Finally, as the skies began to clear, they could see the lights of the New England shoreline in the distance. The edge of the hurricane had been tough to fight through, but they had done it.
Two days later, Sal stood at the helm of the Gale one last time, his calloused hands gripping the smooth wooden wheel. The torn sheets and the single missing mast were a testament to how rough their journey had been. The salty breeze tousled his dark hair as he gazed out at the bustling Boston harbor. Towering above the forest of masts and rigging, he could see the sleek, silvery form of an airship moored to the newly constructed sky-cradle on the roof of the Harbor Master's house.
Behind him, Captain Hawley leaned against the railing, his broken arm in a sling. "You sure about this, Sal?" he asked, his weathered face creased with concern. "The sea's in your blood. What do you know about flying?"
Salvador smiled, his eyes never leaving the airship. "Not much, Cap. But that's the point, isn't it? The world's changing, and I aim to change with it. The next adventures won't be in the sea but in the air."
Captain Hawley shook his head. "I'm obliged to you, and so are the crew. We all know we wouldn't have made it back if it weren't for you. Won't you stay? I can work things out with the owners, so you have your own cabin, even as Second Mate."
Sal turned to look at his old friend and mentor. "I wish I could, Cap. If that last storm taught me anything, it's that the sea will take far more than she gives, and we only have a limited time on Earth. I want to see what the world has to offer, and I won't do that from the deck of a ship."
"But there's adventures on the sea! How can you look that howling hurricane in the face and say that wasn't an adventure?"
Sal grinned. "That was a great adventure, but it's over now. There isn't anything left out here that hasn't been done a thousand times before. Sure, we almost capsized, but we didn't. We defeated the storm and spat in Mother Nature's eye. Thousands of other ships can say the same thing, though. I want to do things no one has done, ever."
A deafening hiss erupted from the docks as a hydro-ionic wavecatcher engaged, splitting water molecules to fuel a departing airship. The massive vessel rose gracefully into the air, its propellers whirring to life.
"I'll be dipped," Hawley muttered. "Never thought I'd see the day when ships would sail the skies."
"What a time to be alive!" Sal agreed, grinning, and yelled for the crew to pull in the rest of the sheets so they could slow down and dock. The next hour flew by in a flurry of activity as the three-hundred-foot ship worked its way to an empty berth along the massive quay.
After saying his goodbyes to the crew and his injured friend Pete, Sal made his way down the gangplank, his seabag slung over his shoulder. He found a trolley heading away from the docks and hopped on.
He couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation as he approached the towering airship named “Swift”. Its aluminum hull gleamed in the morning sun, a stark contrast to the wooden vessels he was accustomed to. Four propellers in cages were mounted to the widest part of the hull and faced up. He saw a large curved beam suspended under the hull with a wheeled carriage attached to it. At either end of the beam were thick steel plates that fit up through side-to-side slits in the hull.
Thick cables held the airship tied to the ground on four sturdy legs, and a short ramp at the rear led into its belly.
"Third Mate Cartwright, reporting for duty," he announced to the officer at the cargo ramp.
The man looked up from his manifest, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, the sailor. Welcome aboard, man. First Mate Ramone Martinez.”
He stuck out a meaty hand, and Sal shook it.
“I hope you're ready for some real adventure.”
Salvador grinned. “That's exactly what I'm counting on."
“Stevens! Assist Mr. Cartwright to his quarters and then show him around the Swift.”
A lad of about fifteen scurried down the ramp and took up Sal’s bag.
“Follow me, sir!”
Sal nodded to the first mate and made his way up the ramp behind the boy.
Stevens led Salvador through the narrow corridors of the Swift, the metal floors clanging beneath their feet. "This way, sir," the lad said, gesturing towards a small cabin near the front of the ship. "These'll be your quarters."
Sal ducked into the compact space, noting the neatly made bunk and the small writing desk bolted to the floor. A porthole offered a view of the bustling dockyard below.
"It's not much, but it's home," Sal mused, dropping his sea bag onto the bunk.
"Oh, it's plenty spacious compared to some of the other berths," Stevens assured him. "We squeeze in like sardines in some places. Now, let me show you the rest of the ship."
As they made their way through the vessel, Sal marveled at the Swift's design. The two massive beams that made up the beam Sal had seen earlier ran the length of the ship. They could see it through the grated flooring in some sections. "That's the backbone of our lady," Stevens explained proudly. "And it makes up a heavy track for the carriage assembly that balances the cargo. Keeps us steady, no matter what we're hauling. It will roll back and forth to keep us stable."
They climbed a ladder to the upper deck, emerging onto a catwalk that serviced a cavernous space filled with six enormous fabric sacks. "Our levium cells," Stevens said. "Two rows of three. They're what keeps us aloft. The captain can adjust the trim of each cell to keep us upright and balanced."
Above the cells, Sal could see the thin hull of the Swift that protected the cells and transferred the buoyancy to the rest of the ship.
A stocky, balding man with grease-stained hands approached them, wiping his brow with a rag. "You must be our new Third Mate," he said, extending a hand. "Abner Thornton, Chief Engineer."
Sal shook her hand, noting the firm grip. "Salvador Cartwright, sir. Pleased to meet you."
Abner's eyes lit up. "Ah, you're the new one in charge of cargo and lifting operations. You'll want to see the winch then. Follow me."
The trio headed to the ship's center and down to a cramped chamber dominated by an intricate system of gears, pulleys, and a massive drum wound with sturdy cable. "This is where the magic happens," Abner said, patting the machinery affectionately. "We can lift just about anything with this beauty. You'll get to know her well. This equipment supplies the lifting power for the crane.”
“Is that the big beam below the ship?” Sal asked.
Abner shook his head. “No, that's the keel. The unit with wheels attached to it is the carriage. Both of those combined with the winch here make up the crane. Follow me; I'll show you your station.”
The trio descended down a ladder below the winch room just to the rear of the airship’s center. Abner pointed to a door in the deck, just to the right of the walkway.
“That's your station, down there.”
Sal opened the door and found a ladder to a small room, six feet by eight, with large windows all around, including the front half of the floor. A seat stood before a series of levers mounted to a panel.
“That's your control deck,” Abner said, pointing. “Each of those levers moves one part of the crane forward or back. The three in the middle are the important ones. The left one controls the keel and moves it side to side. The middle one controls the winch up and down. The right one moves the carriage forward and backward. No chains or belts either; almost everything on the Swift is electric.”
“Can I try them?”
“Sure, but don't push any of the levers very far. The harder you push, the faster the motor moves.”
Sal put his hand on the left lever, “I'm guessing I move the lever to starboard to move the keel to starboard?”
Abner burst out laughing, “I wouldn't let the navigator hear that, Sal. That's wetman talk. We say left and right in the air, none of that starboard and port nonsense.”
Sal grinned and thought a moment, “What do I call the front of the ship?”
Stevens snickered, and Abner grinned, “The front of the airship is called the front, and the back is called the back. Or fore and aft if you're in the mood.”
Sal nodded. “Got it. She's an airship, not a ship, and it's left, right, front, back, up, and down.”
“Now you've got it. I don’t know what other seadog words you have stuffed in your head, but you've got to get rid of them if you plan on being a real aeronaut.”
Sal moved the lever to the left just a little, and nothing happened. He moved it more, and the keel stayed in place. He looked up at Abner with an eyebrow raised.
The engineer smiled and pointed to a large switch labeled ‘On-Off’. “When we are landed like now, or in flight with no load, you’ll need to secure your control deck to prevent accidents. That switch cuts power to your control deck. Go ahead and switch it on, and the light in the upper corner will illuminate.”
Sal turned the switch with a heavy clank, and a red light blinked on as Abner had said. He moved his hand to the left lever again and pushed it slightly left. The heavy metal beam below him began to move left at a steady pace. Sal let go of the lever, and the keel stopped where it was. He moved the lever slightly right, and the keel moved toward the middle again. Sal watched it carefully and let go of the lever when the keel looked centered again.
“Very good. You’ve got the eye for it. Now do the carriage.”
Sal grabbed the right lever and moved it forward. The carriage rolled along the keel smoothly, trailing a heavy cable that extended toward the rear of the airship. When he reversed the direction of the carriage, the cable retracted as it moved back. Sal looked back to see where it went and saw it snake through a hole in the underside of the airship after passing through a pulley-like wheel that kept it from dangling below the keel.
“What’s pulling the cable in?” He asked Abner.
“There is a large reel that has a spring in it. It keeps the power cable tensioned properly so it doesn't get in the way of the carriage.”
Sal pulled the lever back further, and the carriage moved alongside his station. He examined it in detail through the large windows. The main part consisted of a thick steel plate held below the keel by four wheels that rode on the outside of the beam in grooves. The plate had a square central hole with heavy metal rollers on all four sides. The crane cable ran through the hole and hung down below the carriage. He moved the carriage back to the middle of the keel and watched as the rollers spun easily under the weight of the cable.
Sal looked at the other levers on the control deck. One was labeled ‘Lights’ and had a switch next to two levers. Another was labeled ‘Auxiliary’ and the last was a lever labeled, ‘disconnect’.
Sal turned the light switch, and a bright light above his station came on. He moved one lever, and the light rotated to face forward. The second lever moved the light left and right. Satisfied, he returned the light to its starting position and moved the disconnect lever. He heard a clunk below and looked down through the floor window at the end of the cable on the ground. A heavy clamp at the end of the cable lay open. He moved the disconnect lever again, and the clamp closed.
He considered the auxiliary lever and looked up at Abner, “Why is this one red?”
“That’s because you need to know it’s for special things. The Swift can lift a few special things, like giant jaws, water tanks, and rescue baskets. You need to know that moving that lever at the wrong time could be bad. These special loads will usually have a cable you connect to that lever. We don’t have anything like that here or id show you how to connect it all. That can come later when we get to the camp.”
Sal nodded, “That all makes sense. I’ve got a lot to learn, it seems.”
Abner shrugged, “It won’t be so bad. Once you figure out what to do with each control, you pick it up fast. Well, I’ve got things to do. Stevens, show him around.”
As they exited the winch room, a tall, weathered man with a hawk-like gaze approached. "Ezra Blackwood," he introduced himself gruffly and didn't offer his hand. "I'm the navigator. Heard you're fresh off a clipper ship."
Sal nodded. "That's right, sir. The Gale."
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "Well, forget everything you know about navigation. Up here, we deal with air currents, not ocean currents. It's a whole different game. When you have command, I suggest you leave navigation to the real aeronauts. I've seen too many of your kind crash a perfectly good airship because they thought they knew what they were doing.”
"I'm eager to learn," Sal replied, meeting the man's intense gaze.
Blackwood matched the stare and sniffed before stalking off.
Sal turned to Stevens, “What's his problem?”
The boy shook his head, “I'm not sure, but there's a rumor that his brother was on an airship with a wet captain, and they all crashed and died because of him.”
Sal shook his head, “What's a wet captain?”
Stevens blushed, "Well, that's what you are, sir. Wet. As in freshly arrived from sea. Some say wet crew never become real aeronauts.”
Sal smiled, “I see. Well, there's a first time for everything, lad. What's next?”
Their tour continued, with Stevens introducing Sal to more of the crew. They met Boris Chen, the communications officer, in his radio room, surrounded by crackling equipment. Stewart Hanson, the cargo master, was taking inventory in the massive cargo hold that formed the Swift's belly. He and Sal would be working together to hoist cargo into the hold.
As they made their way to the galley, delicious aromas wafted through the air. Inside, a red-faced man with a bushy beard was stirring an enormous pot. "Ah, the new lad!" he boomed in a thick Irish brogue. "Seamus O'Malley, ship's cook. Hope you're not too attached to your sea biscuits, because you'll be eating like a king up here!"
Sal's stomach rumbled in response, earning a hearty laugh from Seamus, who winked.
“I always make something special for the nights before we take off. You're lucky, boyo, to have chosen this night as your first aboard. Come back later, and I'll give ya a bit of bread and butter to hold ya over.”
Their final stop was the bridge, where Captain Forrester stood at the helm, studying a large map. He turned as they entered, his eyes assessing Sal critically.
"Mr. Cartwright," he said, "I trust you've found everything satisfactory?"
"Yes, sir," Sal replied. "The Swift is quite impressive."
"She's the finest airship in the skies," the captain said with a hint of pride. "Now, I understand you have experience with heavy lifting operations?"
Sal nodded. "Yes, Captain. I've managed cargo on Clipper ships for the past five years."
"Good," Forrester said. "Because where we're going, we'll need every bit of that expertise. We leave at dawn. I hope you're not prone to airsickness. We've got a long journey ahead, and I need every hand ready for action."
Salvador straightened his posture. "No, sir. Sea legs or sky legs, I'll adapt."
Forrester nodded, “I suggest you get some rest and familiarize yourself with the cargo manifests. Your secondary duties are as assistant cargo master. Dismissed."
As Sal turned to leave, he caught sight of the vast expanse of sky through the large bridge windows. A thrill of excitement ran through him. Tomorrow, he would be high in the air, embarking on an adventure beyond anything he had known before.
~*~
The next morning was a flurry of activity as the last tools and cargo were stowed and systems made the Swift ready for flight. Ground crews pulled up the pins holding her to the ground. Her engines came to life with a hum, and she flew upward at a good clip.
Seamus had come through and prepared a corned beef meal that was immensely satisfying. Sal held on to a brass rail on the bridge and tried not to think about the previous night's meal as he watched the crew operate with well practiced precision. For this first trip, The Swift hauled no cargo on her crane. Since there was no need for Sal to stay at his station, he had secured his control deck and stood at the back of the bridge to watch how the crew worked.
As the Swift took to the skies, Salvador marveled at how quickly the familiar New England coastline faded into the distance. The days passed, and Salvador learned some of the intricacies of airship operations. The hydro-ionic engines hummed constantly, splitting moisture from the air to create power for their journey. As they crossed the Mississippi and eventually approached the Rockies, the Swift encountered its first real challenge – a sudden updraft that sent the airship lurching upwards.
Captain Forrester's voice cut through the chaos. "Steady as she goes! This is why we're here, people. Nature thinks she can best us, but we'll show her otherwise!"
A fight ensued between the contrary winds and the determined crew. The struggle went on for an hour with the levium cells constantly being trimmed while the engines were worked independently to maintain their heading. Before long, the crew had prevailed, and the airship continued her journey.
Finally, after a week of travel and crossing the mountains at the dizzying height of 10,000 feet, the sparkling waters of Lake Pend Oreille came into view. The pristine wilderness stretched out below them, a sea of green punctuated by the silver expanse of the lake. Salvador could make out the busy wood mill camp on the eastern shore, a hive of activity in the midst of untamed beauty.
As the Swift began its descent, Salvador felt a surge of anticipation. This was it – the new frontier he'd dreamed of. The challenges ahead were daunting, but as he watched the ground draw closer, he knew he was ready to face them head-on.
"Alright, crew," Captain Forrester announced. "Prepare for landing. Our real work is about to begin."
Salvador took a deep breath, savoring the crisp mountain air. Whatever lay ahead, he was certain of one thing – life aboard the Swift was going to be an adventure unlike any he'd ever known.
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I like this story. The characters are interesting, and I want to see what happens next.
One question: Is a levium cell a real thing?