WA-2 final draft

Nicholas Hazard
English
10/26/08
WA-2

John could feel the crisp air of the ocean whisk past his face as he stood on the bow of the ship. With his arms spread wide, like a soaring eagle, he could feel himself almost lift off of the deck and fly away with the seagulls. John could see the water rush under him; the boat propelled by sails filled with the rushing wind. He could see the land growing closer and could begin to see what activities were going on in the small, seaside port.
Trunn was a small town, completely dependant on seafaring activities, such as trading and fishing. It was quite typical of a port in the late 1600s, full of activity during the day and even more at night; what with all the pubs and bars and such. There was always a hustle and bustle to Trunn, whether it was ships getting loaded with supplies or performers doing shows for people who gathered around. Kids played in the streets while captains and merchants haggled on prices of fish and other goods. This was the town that John was now arriving at. It had been his dream his whole life to be on the sea and travel from port to port, trading and doing business among other seamen. But for now, John just needed a job, and that’s what he was out to get.

As John took his first step off of the ship he had been traveling on, a wonderful feeling hit him, a feeling of amazement at how he was to choose his own life now and not be held down by his parents. As he walked down the gangplank, he looked up to see a perfectly clear sky, a wonderful weather to start his new career in. His new life.
As always, the streets were alive with people, and John didn’t know where to start. He just decided to take a quick walk around to familiarize himself with the area. Before John could even take a step, he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to see a grimy, greasy hand, weathered by years of hard work and labor. The owner of this hand reflected it perfectly. The man was a typical sailor, stout in stature and with a gruff expression and bristly beard.

“Aye there laddie, what are the likes of you doing in a common seafaring port like this one here?” questioned the man.

“Sir, I am here to find myself a position on one of the many ships docked in this port,” replied John

“There be a good fellow, looking for some real work. Now, I think I missed your name… what was it again?”

“My name is John. And who is it that I am now acquainted with? Sir,” replied John, quite properly.

“Oh, my name is legend ‘round these parts. I be the famed Cap’n Trenton,” said captain Trenton as he puffed out his chest, trying to make himself look important.

“Well, nice to meet you Captain Trenton.”

“Aye, well, I must be off. Got work to do, ya know.” And with that Captain Trenton walked away, or rather limped away, due to the fact that he had a wooden peg-leg.

Wow, John thought to himself as he started walking again, my first encounter with a real Seafaring man… What an experience! His thoughts were interrupted by a smell, not just any smell though, an immensely strong, putrid smell. It came from one of the stalls. As it turned out, the stall was selling bad fish and it was giving off an incredibly disgusting odor.

“Jeez,” John thought out loud, “That’s revolting!” and with a quickened pace he walked past the fowl smelling stall. John then came upon a loud pub, which, disregarding his good sense to pure curiosity, he entered.

Walking up to the door to the pub, John pulled the door handle, opened the door, and walked inside. People were all over the place, John saw two men fighting, some others playing darts and another man who had flicked off a woman, who then continued to smack him so hard he lay motionless on the floor. John also noticed that it was quite dark in the tavern, despite it being afternoon outside. The fact resulted in his eyes adjusting to the new light.

That’s when a man, who looked like he was going to fall over any second, walked up to John and whispered in his ear, “He-ey little b-boy, l-l-let me sho-o-ow you so-om-omethi-ing.” Creeped out and appalled by the random person, John tore himself away from the man and quickly went back outside. “Whew… that’s definitely not my kind of place,” John laughed to himself. Then he set off again, to explore the rest of the town and enjoy his day of freedom.

WA-2

Nicholas Hazard
English
10/9/08

WA-2

John could feel the crisp air of the ocean whisk past his face as he stood on the very front of the ship. With his arms spread wide, like a soaring eagle, he could feel himself almost lift off of the deck and fly away with the seagulls. John could see the water rush under him; the boat propelled by sails filled with rushing wind. He could see the land growing closer and could begin to see what activities were going on in the small, seaside port.
Trunn was a small town, completely dependant on seafaring activities, such as trading and fishing. It was quite typical of a port in the late 1600s, full of activity during the day and even more at night, what with all the pubs and bars and such. There was always a hustle and bustle to Trunn, whether it was ships getting loaded with supplies or performers doing shows for people who gathered around them, there was always something going on. Kids played in the streets while captains and merchants haggled on prices of fish and other goods. This was the town that John was now arriving at. It had been his dream his whole life to be on the sea and travel from port to port trading and doing business among other seamen. But for now, John just needed a job, and that’s what he was out to get.

As John took his first step off of the ship he had been traveling on, a wonderful feeling hit him, a feeling of amazement at how he was to choose his own life now and not be held down by his parents, who he had left behind when John left his hometown. As he walked down the gangplank, he looked up to see a perfectly clear sky, a wonderful weather to start his new life in.
As always, the streets were alive with people, and John didn’t where to start. He just decided to take a quick walk around to familiarize himself with the area. Before John could even take a step, he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to see a grimy, greasy hand, weathered by years of hard work and labor. The owner of this hand reflected it perfectly. The man was a typical sailor, stout in stature and with a gruff expression and bristly beard.

“Aye there laddie, what are the likes of you doing in a common seafaring port like this one here?” asked the man.

“Sir, I am here to find myself a position on one of the many ships docked in this port.” Replied John

“There be a good fellow, looking for some real work. Now, I think I missed your name… what was it again?”

“My name is John. And who is it that I am now acquainted with? Sir.” Replied John, quite properly.

“Oh, my name is legend ‘round these parts. I be there famed Cap’n Trenton.” Said captain Trenton as he puffed out his chest, trying to make himself look important.

“Well, nice to meet you Captain Trenton.”

“Aye, well, I must be off. Got work to do, ya know.” And with that Captain Trenton was walking away, or rather limping, due to the fact that he had a wooden peg leg.

Wow, John thought to himself as he started walking again, my first encounter with a real Seafaring man… What an experience! His thoughts were interrupted by a smell, not just any smell though, an immensely strong, putrid smell. It can from one of the stalls. As it turned out, the stall was selling bad fish and it was giving off an incredibly disgusting smell.

“Jeez,” John thought out loud, “That’s revolting!” and with a quickened pace he walked past the fowl smelling stall. John then came upon a loud pub, which, disregarding his good sense to pure curiosity, he entered.

Walking up to the door to the pub, he pulled the door handle, opened the door, and walked inside. People were all over the place, John saw two men fighting, some others playing darts and another man who had flicked off a woman, who then continued to smack him so hard he lay motionless on the floor. John also noticed that it was quite dark in the tavern, despite it being afternoon outside and that his eyes had to adjust to the new light.

That’s when a man, who looked like he was going to fall over any second, walked up to John and whispered in his ear, “He-ey little b-boy, l-l-let me sho-o-ow you so-om-omethi-ing.” Creeped out and appalled by the random person, John tore himself away from the man and quickly went back outside. “Whew… that’s definitely not my kind of place,” John laughed to himself. Then he set off again, to explore the rest of the town and enjoy his day of freedom.