Straw Hats Shipwright Novels & Stories

The drifting wind among sails lashes with the sheer force of nature. The leather sails ripple with and dance with the oncoming draft and fill the ears of all who may be listening upon the floating ship. One that belongs to the King herself; Salavanta. The proud-standing redhead wears her signature trench coat and underneath that vile worn and torn coat is a white cloth long sleeve cotton shirt and high capris that match the same brown as most of her clothes. Both of her pistoles are strapped on each side of her outer thighs at about knee level. On the right side of her hip is a sheathed ripper that is abnormally long and just above that is a short sword defender that is sheathed on her right

Seasbury was too small to handle the volume of cargo that Selspur needed and the coastal cities had started being a nuisance, so Nathan Sinclair along with some of the old money had come together and started the building of the harbor seven years ago. Being in charge of a fledgling maritime business was where I was coming in. Thanks to Nathan’s backing I was going to be the default shipwright of the vessels used as well as playing the newly established shipping lines. The conference this week was partly to attend the world shipping council that would be there for their own summit.

“Here I thought I had a hard time winning the folks of this fine town over. And they liked my forebears.” “They’re that hard-assed then?” “The hardest of arses, mate. Once you win them, though, you’ve got a crew who’ll rally a cry for you at the wave of a pot buoy flag, and stand beside you until the last one has fallen.” His eyes crinkled more deeply at the corners. “So, there’s that.” “Aye, indeed,” Calder said, chuckling. The Irishman could probably sell a swatter to a fly and make him happier for it. Calder nodded toward the shipyard. “You build that monstrosity?”

It was Myllyof’s plan to depart in Beltizar and take the road again by foot. Their means of transport up the broad Mondo was an unblemished ship that went by the name of Silver Hawk. It had two main masts holding two sails apiece, plus a third mast used only if needed. The ship was also equipped with fifty oars below the main deck. Three men manned each oar. Many of the oarsmen were prisoners or pirates captured along the river route. The boat was lined with one hundred shields per side, to be used in battle if needed. There were twenty large crossbows and hundreds of long bows located on both sides. There was another weapon known as the ‘fire breather’. It was for shooting a long stream of

I smiled at the dirty thing smiling back at me. She was pretty. In an uninteresting way. I made up my mind and headed for the docks. Heart on my sleeves. !! !! !! !! !! !! The ship loomed like a leviathan, tall and sharp, sails dark as ravens. The Royal Crest of Vargrheim hung heavy from its mast—black wolf, silver moon. Standing on the dock like he owned the tide was the ship’s quartermaster—broad shoulders, shaved head with a whistle clenched between his teeth.

**Anthony** I squinted behind the LED hands-free magnifying glass as I attached a string around the standing rigging of my latest ship-in-a-bottle project. It wasn’t my most complicated build. I’d say the miniature replica of the USS Constitution was for intermediate builders. I was an advanced builder after decades of practice, but I was too distracted by pain and lack of sleep to tackle a more significant project.

Harold yelled at a group of compass wielding, bearded men with pencils hanging from their ears and parchments along with other tools of their trade hanging precariously from their arms. The shipwrights scurried like scared mice to Harold's beckoning and gathered in front of him. Harold strutted up to meet them and stopped just in front of the noisy rabble. "Shipwrights," Harold barked. "How much time do we have before all the ships are ready for battle?" Some of the shipwrights and builders began running their hands through their hair and rubbing their jaws.

V. Ray swallowed hard. He knew exactly what those letters stood for. They were the initials of Leo Vane—the young master's true identity, even though he was now forced to bear his grandfather's family name. The engraving was exquisitely crafted, framed by delicate wave motifs that adorned the upper half of the ship's hull. After several hours of relentless work, every wooden structure was finally completed to perfection. Following Charlie's instructions, Ray began preparing the automatic spray-paint machine. He coated the magnificent ship in Leo's favorite color combination: a deep ocean blue accented with bold jet black.

“Lady Ever—” “No names.” Becky lifted a hand without slowing. “Not mine. Not yours. Not tonight.” The man bowed his head. “As you wish.” “Is the ship ready?” “Aye.” He jerked his chin toward the vessel moored at the far end of the dock. It was a weather-beaten cargo ship, hull patched, sails rolled, the Eastwind insignia freshly painted over with a darker, unfamiliar crest. “False flag, false registry, false manifests. No one’ll track where she’s goin’.”

Jidana, Kariya and Ophilius packed themselves into Ophilius’s sky ship. Ophilius had to use to metal poles as crutches as he struggled to enter the ship. Jidana and Kariya helped him into the ship and they were ready to set sail and on their way to the Petragram mansion. Ophilius’ s ship was big and red with two large masts each carrying 10 flags. There are two compartments on the sides that house cannons and a compartment inside the ship to store weapons. The ship is powered by wind Furiyu and the wind of the sky.