By morning, Drake had found three ways for the voyage to lose money before leaving the quay.
The forward stores had been loaded too far to starboard. The weather ribbon above the neighboring warehouse was caught on a nail, displaying a firm southerly wind while smoke drifted east. And the porter beside his gangway was about to lift a crate with a sling whose lower strand had gone pale.
“Stop that.”
The porter looked around. “It’s within the weight.”
“Set it down.”
Drake released the lower catch onto the sound support while the man was still arguing. Weight settled against timber. He took the slack strand and pulled.
It parted in his hand.
The porter stared at the separated ends.
