The hum of wind in the rigging set Jacoby to singing, softly at first, “She’s a dandy lass, a dandy lass, I’ll kiss ’er cheek and smack her…”

Across their makeshift table Sykes rolled his eyes, “Who’s ration o’ rum you done pilfered?”

Jacoby only smiled, slid the pebble designated as one of his black checkers one space over, and sang all the louder, “Oh her eyes dance with silvery light, to mock and mock my woe, they say forever her answer cruel, like the moon says no…” He hummed while his mate grumbled and moved his own pebble, then echoed, “…like the moon says no, like the moon says no.”

“You done singin’, ya nancy-boy?” huffed Sykes.

“Is the moon done hangin’ in the sky, ya uncultured roughian?”

“You ain’t just half mad, ye know?”

“Aye, that I do.” Jacoby mulled his next move, “Cap’n seems restless tonight.”

Sykes didn’t answer.

“Ye know what that’ll mean on the morrow.”

Sykes didn’t answer.

Jacoby only hummed and repeated, “Like the moon says no, like that ol’ moon says no.”