IC: Chapter Three - Departure
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Detective Hanson is at the Headquarters when Jack calls, so he doesnt have any problem getting to speak with him:
«Hi Jack, from what I can tell Miss Lexingtons people had a friend in the Justice Deparment. Well never prove it, but it looks like she was responsible for your delay. I think Parkers straight just over keen on getting one last big bootlegging bust.»
«Im not sure what this means for my murder investigation, I cant believe that that Lexington woman would go so far as to kill someone, but Id sure like to have a word with her when she gets back.»
«Maybe Starkweather wasnt so nuts after all?»
«Hi Jack, from what I can tell Miss Lexingtons people had a friend in the Justice Deparment. Well never prove it, but it looks like she was responsible for your delay. I think Parkers straight just over keen on getting one last big bootlegging bust.»
«Im not sure what this means for my murder investigation, I cant believe that that Lexington woman would go so far as to kill someone, but Id sure like to have a word with her when she gets back.»
«Maybe Starkweather wasnt so nuts after all?»
Richard Greene smiles, Well guys, as its your last night in New York, Id suggest the Cotton Club. The musics always good there... and the drink.
What do you think Jack?
What do you think Jack?
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"Not really my sort of place, but anyone who hasn't been there should probably see it, I suppose," Jack replies.
The Cotton Club seemed a little out of his league socially--although with the new elan he had as a member of the expedition, he might fit in there better than normal.
He had another reason for not being terribly keen on going. While Jack wasn't the most forward-looking when it came to race relations, he also didn't see a strong reason to discriminate based on color. If a guy treated him fairly, Jack didn't particularly care what his skin color was. He'd been on the wrong end of too much abuse from too many people not to sympathize with the fact that while Negroes got to perform there, they didn't get to go as customers, even though the place was in Harlem. He wasn't going to file a formal protest--those crusading days were behind him--but that didn't mean he had to endorse the place by handing over his money.
The Cotton Club seemed a little out of his league socially--although with the new elan he had as a member of the expedition, he might fit in there better than normal.
He had another reason for not being terribly keen on going. While Jack wasn't the most forward-looking when it came to race relations, he also didn't see a strong reason to discriminate based on color. If a guy treated him fairly, Jack didn't particularly care what his skin color was. He'd been on the wrong end of too much abuse from too many people not to sympathize with the fact that while Negroes got to perform there, they didn't get to go as customers, even though the place was in Harlem. He wasn't going to file a formal protest--those crusading days were behind him--but that didn't mean he had to endorse the place by handing over his money.
Decrepit wrote: "Not really my sort of place, but anyone who hasn't been there should probably see it, I suppose," Jack replies.
"Hey, no problem Jack I like the music, but if it's not your thing maybe you could suggest somewhere else."
"It's a shame so many of the Theatres have had to close, I mean here we are right in the Theatre District and no shows to watch!"
52nd Street, Lower East Side
The Evening, Sunday 10th September 1933
The night out goes well, Greene knows a few smaller, less classy jazz bars that have recently opened on 52nd street in the Lower East side, all within a block or so of each other.
They might be more your thing if you dont like the big clubs, he says to Jack. I never been there, but they say the musics even better than at the Cotton Club, they just arent as well known yet.
As it turns out, the 52nd street jazz bars have nowhere near the same level of racism as the mob run nightclubs of Harlem, so Jack can genuinely enjoy their atmosphere.
Kitt finds the handsome Richard Greene very receptive to both her gushing attention and her body language. She also receives the renewed attention of the ever confident barnstormer pilot Ralph Dewitt.
Radio operator Louis Laroche spends the evening brooding, he smoked his last cigarette a day before the original departure date; the nicotine withdrawal has affect the friendly Canadians mood severely.
Most of the science team elected to spend the evening on board the Gabreille but Samuel Winslow joins the partygoers, a seemingly bottomless well of knowledge on all things, the graduate student Glaciologist spends most of the evening discussing the merits of the Jazz bands with Richard Greene, Kitt and anyone else who happens by.
The Evening, Sunday 10th September 1933
The night out goes well, Greene knows a few smaller, less classy jazz bars that have recently opened on 52nd street in the Lower East side, all within a block or so of each other.
They might be more your thing if you dont like the big clubs, he says to Jack. I never been there, but they say the musics even better than at the Cotton Club, they just arent as well known yet.
As it turns out, the 52nd street jazz bars have nowhere near the same level of racism as the mob run nightclubs of Harlem, so Jack can genuinely enjoy their atmosphere.
Kitt finds the handsome Richard Greene very receptive to both her gushing attention and her body language. She also receives the renewed attention of the ever confident barnstormer pilot Ralph Dewitt.
Radio operator Louis Laroche spends the evening brooding, he smoked his last cigarette a day before the original departure date; the nicotine withdrawal has affect the friendly Canadians mood severely.
Most of the science team elected to spend the evening on board the Gabreille but Samuel Winslow joins the partygoers, a seemingly bottomless well of knowledge on all things, the graduate student Glaciologist spends most of the evening discussing the merits of the Jazz bands with Richard Greene, Kitt and anyone else who happens by.
Olof enjoyed the night out. He had read articles about jazz music in Europe, but this is the first time he experiences this new "sound". The music is unlike anything he has heard before and he has to admit that he is enthralled with the whole thing. Perhaps he will buy some jazz records when they return from Antarctica.
The SS Gabrielle Pier 74, Hudson River Docks, New York
The morning Monday 11th September, 1933
At times it seemed that this day would never arrive, but finally on the evening of the 10th and the morning of the 11th of September 1933, the members of the Starkweather-Moore Expedition to the Antarctic finally found themselves walking up the SS Gabrielles gangplank luggage in hand, heading for their cabins.
Captain Henry Vredenburg greets each explorer as they arrive on board his ship, while First Officer Paul Turlow ensures that the Cabin Assignments are prominently displayed. He takes each explorers offered firearms to stow in the bowsuns stores for the long voyage south. He does not check though anyones bags for contraband though.
Those cabins located in the midships area are cosy, but cramped particularly those shared by three expedition members. Kitt fairs the best, with a cabin all to herself.
The cabins in the aftcastle are a little to cosy for comfort, but at least the ship in clean and well maintained.
The ship'd boilers are already running in preparation for this afternoon's departure. After so many incidents and delays there is finally an air of excitment about both the expedition members and the crew, even James Starkweather is smiling again, his feud with Miss Lexington forgotten for now. Her two day head start will mean little on the two month voyage, especially when the ice pack is reached and a safe path must be found though.
The morning Monday 11th September, 1933
At times it seemed that this day would never arrive, but finally on the evening of the 10th and the morning of the 11th of September 1933, the members of the Starkweather-Moore Expedition to the Antarctic finally found themselves walking up the SS Gabrielles gangplank luggage in hand, heading for their cabins.
Captain Henry Vredenburg greets each explorer as they arrive on board his ship, while First Officer Paul Turlow ensures that the Cabin Assignments are prominently displayed. He takes each explorers offered firearms to stow in the bowsuns stores for the long voyage south. He does not check though anyones bags for contraband though.
Those cabins located in the midships area are cosy, but cramped particularly those shared by three expedition members. Kitt fairs the best, with a cabin all to herself.
The cabins in the aftcastle are a little to cosy for comfort, but at least the ship in clean and well maintained.
The ship'd boilers are already running in preparation for this afternoon's departure. After so many incidents and delays there is finally an air of excitment about both the expedition members and the crew, even James Starkweather is smiling again, his feud with Miss Lexington forgotten for now. Her two day head start will mean little on the two month voyage, especially when the ice pack is reached and a safe path must be found though.
CABIN ASSIGNMENTS - MIDSHIPS
Cabin 11: Cpt. J.Starkweather; Prof W.Moore
Cabin 12: Miss Kitt Knight
Cabin 13: Prof W.Griffith; Prof M.Bryce; Prof C.Myers
Cabin 14: Prof P.Albemarle; Prof C.Graves; James
Seymour
Cabin 15: Peter Sykes; Gunnar & Nils Sorensen
Cabin 16: Dr. R.Greene, Olof Eriksson ;
Jack Wilson
Cabin 17: Dougas Halperin; Ralph Dewitt; William
McRaven
Cabin 18: Isutag Amaruq; Callum McDonald;
Sean McPherson
CABIN ASSIGNMENTS - AFTCASTLE
Berth 4a: Gregor Pulaski, Erik Frodesen, Olav Sørensen
Berth 4b: Tamás Lopez, Hidalgo Cruz, Maurice Cole
Berth 4c: Charlie Porter, Timothy Cartier, Avery Giles, Douglas Orgelfinger
Berth 4d: Patrick Miles, Alan "Colt" Huston, Samuel Winslow
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Hmm, Kitt thinks as she examines who is in what room while clutching her broad-brimmed hat to her head in the wind. Doctor Greene and Jack Wilson are in the same room. That'll make it easier with visiting.
Is it bad that I listen to this about ten times a day?
Oh, also, check out my new blog on roleplaying and running games: http://stwildonroleplaying.blogspot.com/
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As Jack heads to the ship, his head with a too-familiar throb, he thinks, Lord, I can't imagine we're actually going to leave.
The night before had gone well ... enough. For some reason, he found his eyes continually drawn to see what Dr. Greene and Kitt were up to. He'd credited Kitt with having a bit more sense than to swoon for a fellow like Greene, but, well, she was a woman, after all, and Greene was good-looking, smart, gregarious, monied--a heady mix, Jack had to admit. And the man had decent taste in musical establishments. No matter what was played, though, the notes came out scalding, aching, or at least they seemed so to Jack.
A scowl kept stealing over Jack's face despite his attempts to fight it off, and whenever he found himself feeling morose like that, he also found himself with a urge for a drink. Or a dozen. It looked to Jack like he wasn't the only one having a lousy time--for one, Laroche looked like hell--but, then again, but that just might have been the self-pity talking.
Snapping back to the present, Jack takes a look at the ship. He'd seen it before, of course, but now it was going to be home, and that was different. He'd seen the box he'd be packed into with Olof and--God help him--Greene, and it would be less than ideal. There were others that had it worse than him--always were, Jack told himself--but the funk held onto him.
He'd gotten his final instructions from Patterson, who was understandably anxious to have some good news to report. The Treasury story turned into a mini-crusade by the paper against the depradations of the Feds, but that story lacked much juice to begin with, and Patterson, with characteristic heavy handedness, had wrung it all out a couple days ago.
He'd written a couple more letters to his ex's, one more to his son, and sent them off. None of them would probably get read, making the writing of them a futile gesture--but sometimes gestures were all a man had to offer.
Let's get the hell out of here, Jack thinks, not bothering to take a backward glance.
The night before had gone well ... enough. For some reason, he found his eyes continually drawn to see what Dr. Greene and Kitt were up to. He'd credited Kitt with having a bit more sense than to swoon for a fellow like Greene, but, well, she was a woman, after all, and Greene was good-looking, smart, gregarious, monied--a heady mix, Jack had to admit. And the man had decent taste in musical establishments. No matter what was played, though, the notes came out scalding, aching, or at least they seemed so to Jack.
A scowl kept stealing over Jack's face despite his attempts to fight it off, and whenever he found himself feeling morose like that, he also found himself with a urge for a drink. Or a dozen. It looked to Jack like he wasn't the only one having a lousy time--for one, Laroche looked like hell--but, then again, but that just might have been the self-pity talking.
Snapping back to the present, Jack takes a look at the ship. He'd seen it before, of course, but now it was going to be home, and that was different. He'd seen the box he'd be packed into with Olof and--God help him--Greene, and it would be less than ideal. There were others that had it worse than him--always were, Jack told himself--but the funk held onto him.
He'd gotten his final instructions from Patterson, who was understandably anxious to have some good news to report. The Treasury story turned into a mini-crusade by the paper against the depradations of the Feds, but that story lacked much juice to begin with, and Patterson, with characteristic heavy handedness, had wrung it all out a couple days ago.
He'd written a couple more letters to his ex's, one more to his son, and sent them off. None of them would probably get read, making the writing of them a futile gesture--but sometimes gestures were all a man had to offer.
Let's get the hell out of here, Jack thinks, not bothering to take a backward glance.
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"Hello Jack!" says Kitt as she sees him come up the gang plank, clutching her hat to her head and waving ecstatically with the other hand. "Do you have a camera on you? I want a photograph of me on this ship."
Is it bad that I listen to this about ten times a day?
Oh, also, check out my new blog on roleplaying and running games: http://stwildonroleplaying.blogspot.com/
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"Erm, yes, happy to oblige," Jack stammers out, surprised that someone's noticed him. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he'd assumed he was invisible.
"Um, stand over there ... no, there ... yes, that's fine." Jack takes a few shots. "This'll make a good one for the paper--'Adventuress Sets Out' or some such nonsense--assuming I didn't put my thumb on the lens."
"Um, stand over there ... no, there ... yes, that's fine." Jack takes a few shots. "This'll make a good one for the paper--'Adventuress Sets Out' or some such nonsense--assuming I didn't put my thumb on the lens."
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"Oh, I trust in your skills," Kitt says, after posing obligingly by the railing. She normally loathed such posturing but it felt somewhat all right here. She supposed because she felt the whole thing a game so she could be a fair bit more girlish.
"Why so morose, Mr. Wilson," she says with an exaggerated nod, presuming that he wasn't at all morose and that it was all just a misunderstanding. "Who can feel down on such a wondrous day? I do hope someone remembered to pack playing cards. At the very least, I bought some this very morning. I do so love playing solitaire."
"Why so morose, Mr. Wilson," she says with an exaggerated nod, presuming that he wasn't at all morose and that it was all just a misunderstanding. "Who can feel down on such a wondrous day? I do hope someone remembered to pack playing cards. At the very least, I bought some this very morning. I do so love playing solitaire."
Is it bad that I listen to this about ten times a day?
Oh, also, check out my new blog on roleplaying and running games: http://stwildonroleplaying.blogspot.com/
Oh, also, check out my new blog on roleplaying and running games: http://stwildonroleplaying.blogspot.com/
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Jack's frown grew a little deeper. He held back a retort that formed in his mind about the lack of a need for solitaire with the good doctor around, but held his tongue.
"I suppose it is a decent day and all," he offers finally. "Never really thought it would happen--I mean, that we'd set sail and all. I guess it's just the dark cloud that seems to be hanging over us that's got me thinking." Seeing the trajectory of her mood descend with his, Jack abruptly switches tack. "But that should be behind us now, don't you thinK? There's the ice and cold to worry about, but we're as ready as we can be for that, and I do believe we have a good crew and shipmates.
"And I'm sure someone brought cards," he says, grinning a bit.
"I suppose it is a decent day and all," he offers finally. "Never really thought it would happen--I mean, that we'd set sail and all. I guess it's just the dark cloud that seems to be hanging over us that's got me thinking." Seeing the trajectory of her mood descend with his, Jack abruptly switches tack. "But that should be behind us now, don't you thinK? There's the ice and cold to worry about, but we're as ready as we can be for that, and I do believe we have a good crew and shipmates.
"And I'm sure someone brought cards," he says, grinning a bit.
Olof is satisfied to share cabin with Jack and Dr. Greene. What he has seen of the doctor, he seems to be an agreeable fellow, but Olof suspects that Jack might not be so well disposed against the doctor. If things continue to evolve in a bad way, things can become a bit tense. Olof doesn't know what he would do if the situation would escalate. Perhaps he does not need to worry. There will probably be a lot of things to do during the voyage. If Starkweather is the kind of adventurer he seems to be, he will probably expect that his crew is well prepared for the perils which await them when they reach the southern continent.
As Olof unpacks he happens to spot an old photograph lying in a coat pocket. He hesitates and then pulls it out and stares at it for a while. It depicts a woman sitting under a tree reading a book by a river.
"Sophié" Olof whispers. He has not thought of her for a long time. His first great love, a French girl he once knew, a part of life he thought he had left behind him. The engineer puts the photo back into the coat pocket and continues unpacking.
As Olof unpacks he happens to spot an old photograph lying in a coat pocket. He hesitates and then pulls it out and stares at it for a while. It depicts a woman sitting under a tree reading a book by a river.
"Sophié" Olof whispers. He has not thought of her for a long time. His first great love, a French girl he once knew, a part of life he thought he had left behind him. The engineer puts the photo back into the coat pocket and continues unpacking.
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Callum strides confidently up the gang plank. Its a beautiful morning and he feels like this is the beginning of a new chapter in his, almost too, adventurous career.
Scanning the cabin assignments, he is pleased to see he is sharing with Isugtag. He feel a sort of affinity with the huge Inuit, and though he keeps himself to himself, he should be a good room mate. It'll be good to get to know Sean as well. Haven't had time to talk to him much as yet.
He says his good mornings to crew members, and any of the expedition team that are present, and makes his way down to Cabin 18 to stow his equipment. When he is done, he heads to the Galley to see the most important man on board, the Chef. And get a nice strong coffee.....
Scanning the cabin assignments, he is pleased to see he is sharing with Isugtag. He feel a sort of affinity with the huge Inuit, and though he keeps himself to himself, he should be a good room mate. It'll be good to get to know Sean as well. Haven't had time to talk to him much as yet.
He says his good mornings to crew members, and any of the expedition team that are present, and makes his way down to Cabin 18 to stow his equipment. When he is done, he heads to the Galley to see the most important man on board, the Chef. And get a nice strong coffee.....
McRaven sits in a corner of the galley nursing a coffee, he aches slightly from having stood another watch in case of further sabotage, but nothing had come of it. He simply could not shake the feeling lurking in the pit of his stomach since commander douglas had been killed, a cold writhing knot of anxiety that told him that this was an ill starred voyage.
James is quite excited at the prospect that they will actually now get to set sail. He is a little tired from doing his share of watching the warehouse etc but the tiredness seems to have been overuled by the excitement which he always seems to get when just about to set sail on a voyage.
James waits near the top of the gang plank watching people come aboard & helping with any luggage when necessary. He spots Kitt being photographed which was a suprise as she had seemed quite shy last time he had had any dealings with her but assumes she must be a little excited about the voyage too.
James waits near the top of the gang plank watching people come aboard & helping with any luggage when necessary. He spots Kitt being photographed which was a suprise as she had seemed quite shy last time he had had any dealings with her but assumes she must be a little excited about the voyage too.
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Maurice is abuzz with the prospect of leaving New York City. Bouncing, dancing and smiling more than he had since he left home all those months ago he absolutely couldn't wait to hear the crash of the ocean against the hull of the fast moving ship, the sqwak of playful seagulls and the farewell shouts of those jealous people left behind on the dock.
An adventure! Honest to God, as real and exciting as the one Columbus himself endured. Maurice couldn't wait. Be it untold riches or a voyage off the end of the world it was taking him away from the stink of the habour and on to the biggest, most wonderful moment of his young life.
An adventure! Honest to God, as real and exciting as the one Columbus himself endured. Maurice couldn't wait. Be it untold riches or a voyage off the end of the world it was taking him away from the stink of the habour and on to the biggest, most wonderful moment of his young life.
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