"I'm almost scared to think how Isabela might dress me," he said. Isabela wore little enough that it could get him blushing if he just thought about it too hard. Best to keep his mind away from that line of thought altogether. "I don't think I have the right swagger for a pirate. Put me on a real ship, and you'll see me curl up like a cat under the porch in a rainstorm, hoping to the Maker it all ends soon. That's in good weather."

He did as she said, not continuing their forward motion until she assured him it was well. He built back up to a good pace, steady without being too swift, and kept an eye out for the telltale dark shapes of the rocks. Once they were well out past those, he'd trim the sails again, and it would be much faster going.