The mast received a cheer before the first crate reached the landing.
Drake heard the crowd from the Gull’s Luck and enjoyed it for an entirely unprofessional moment.
They had seen his colors and supplied the missing battle. Somewhere beyond the turn, he had apparently frightened a central fleet into retreating. The full tale would probably include guns the crew had spent the morning keeping properly secured.
At the final turn, Merrit gave the landing’s ordinary receiving signal and waited for its answer.
The route had improved after the withdrawal. It still had other vessels, a controlled approach, and people whose safe arrival depended on the same space Drake wanted to use for his own.
He kept the Gull’s Luck inside its current clearance.
Ruth confirmed the secured load. The strap flagged on the old convoy leg had been replaced at its scheduled stop, its paid entry in the maintenance book. Today she reported sound work instead of producing another problem to make the arrival heroic.
At the ramp, a dockworker checked the receiving feet against the actual surface. Drake waited while the man shifted one support to sound ground.
