Skip Navigation

Grantville Gazette Podcast Demo Website

Featured Article » Fiction

Sailing Upwind

Written by Kevin and Karen Evans

Sailing Upwind

The content of articles is available only to logged in members.

You can either Log In or subscribe.

In the mean time, a preview of this story is shown below. It's about the first half.

Late September 1633

"Sally, did Mr. Pridmore say where he was going?" Reva leaned toward the young receptionist, to keep the conversation a little more private. Reva worried about Marlon. He hadn't been eating or sleeping well for the last week. Just like he had last September, he'd gotten moody and irritated. And today, instead of finishing work, he just stood up and walked out of his office.

"No, Miz Pridmore. When he didn't see you, he told me to tell you he was feeling poorly, and then got his coat and left."

"Yeah. I guess he's got the flu, just like last year." Reva went back to her station behind the teller window. No use going after him. I might as well finish work.

****

"You sitting here moping again?" Reva came into the living room to hang her coat in the closet. While lights were on in other parts of the house, he was sitting alone in the dark. "I swear, you're gonna wear me out with your sour moods this time of year."

Marlon grumbled, "Tomorrow is October first. This weekend would be the beginning of the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta. And I let Hilde down again."

"I know. I heard it all last year. Same old story. You were gonna help him get the money for an airship, and then you weren't there to hand it over. Nothing new. I thought you were over this."

She waited for him to respond, and when he didn't she continued. "I've worked at that bank with you for more than twenty years, and put up with your moods here at home. But you don't have an excuse to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You don't need to be in here moping like this, Marlon Pridmore. Life goes on."

He glared at her. It was an old argument. "Reva, you just don't understand. I gave them my word and I failed. I've been adjusting, but when it starts to get to fall weather like this rain, it makes me long for the things we used to do. You enjoyed that balloon fiesta as much as I did, and you know it."

"Now, don't pull me into this mess, old man. Yes, I liked going to Albuquerque just fine. But that was then, this is now. We can't go back, and that's that."

He stood up and started walking toward the kitchen. "I'm going out to the barn. Don't wait up." He walked out the back door, hands shoved into his pockets.

****

Marlon sat out in the dark barn, drinking kirshwasser in memory of Hilde, mourning the loss of his friend once again. Marlon and Reva had both grown up in Grantville and most of their family still lived in the area. They had never had children, so there were no grandchildren left up-time. Now all that Marlon missed from West Virginia, besides getting a new computer once in a while, was Hilde and balloons.

Hilde and Marlon had planned to get some investors, including a loan from Marlon's bank, and buy the envelope and basket for a thermal airship. This wasn't just any balloon; it was a hot air blimp that could be steered against the wind. It was going to be their entry in the Gatineau Challenge, a thermal airship race with the prize of half a million dollars.

Reva found him in the barn later that night. She stepped under the single bare light bulb and put her hands on her hips. "Okay, I've had it!"

"You just don't understand! I gave my word I'd be there, and there's no way I can get there now."

"Listen here, Marlon Pridmore. You need to stop this pity party of yours, and go build yourself a balloon. You can do it. There ain't anyone here down-time that knows more about it than you do. But it ain't gonna happen with you out here drinking brandy, and feeling sorry . . . "

Marlon interrupted. "What did you say?"

"I said you need to stop this pity party . . ."

"No. The part about the balloon."

Reva stopped glaring, and laughed. "Swordfish, you're an idiot. What you miss isn't that silly airship project you set up in Leipzig. You miss spending time with balloonists. You miss flying. I just think that if you want a balloon so bad, there isn't anyone around here that knows more about building one than you, now is there?"

Marlon thought for a moment. He'd never considered building his own airship. Up-time, it was much easier and safer to have a professional company sew the envelope out of high tech materials, and just gather the money together to buy it. He took another sip of the brandy, then looked at his glass. He couldn't seem to remember why he was sitting out in this damp barn drinking in the first place.

Reva shook her head, then hurried back into the house. He sat for a moment more, then stood and ambled over to an old dresser at the back of the barn. He had always used it for plans and notes and such. Maybe there was still some of that graph paper in one of the drawers.

****

"Herr Pridmore, have you been out here all night?"

"Hmm? Is that you Bernard? What time is it?"

"It is just before dawn, time for me to milk the cows. Can't you hear them calling me?"

"Oh, yes, so I can. Well, don't let me stop you." Marlon was busily drawing diagrams, figuring volume, referring to old ballooning magazines that had been stashed in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

Bernard Brenner, with his wife Agnes and his fifteen year old daughter, Helga, had come to town as refugees in 1631. Bernard had been a distiller of cherry wine before the war destroyed his village. Now the Brenner family was woven in as part of the Pridmore family. By now, Bernard was accustomed to Marlon's eccentricities, like becoming obsessed with an idea, and forgetting to eat or sleep.

Marlon looked up from the paper. "Bernard, what do you know about cloth? I think I have a new project that you can help me with."

****

It was late in the day when Marlon and Bernard came back from the barn. Agnes had peeked at them several times that day, and even taken lunch out when they didn't show any sign of stopping to eat.

"Reva, I think we can do it. Sure, Bernard and I have to do some more research, and it's anyone's guess what it's going to cost, but I think we can get the cloth we need and somehow make it hold hot air.

"Well, I kind of thought there would be a way. I'm sure that you can find someone either here in town or up in Magdeburg that can give you price estimates and such."

"That's what I'm thinking, hon. Look at these here figures, and tell me, do you think we can afford to do this? You know what we have, and what we need to keep going. What do you think?"

Reva sat down at the kitchen table and spread out the papers that Marlon handed her. Together they looked over the figures and diagrams. "Well, Marlon. I guess it depends on what you're willing to give up. You're probably going to have to sell some things. And it isn't going to happen all at once. We're going to have to take some time to raise some money. But I can see us doing this over the next couple of years. That is, if you're willing to give up some of your other toys and projects."

Marlon grinned like a ten-year-old boy who had caught his first fish. He pulled Reva to her feet and swept her into a big hug. "Sweetpea, we can sell whatever you say to get this done."

April, 1635

It took almost two years, but finally it was coming together. The gondola, woven from wicker, was complete, and the last shipment of Indian muslin had been delivered. So this morning, Marlon and Bernard were busily working on their toy. Marlon was in the yard stirring a huge vat of brown smelly stuff.

"What is in that stuff?" asked Bernard.

"This, Bernard, is a modern miracle. It is a conglomeration of lacquer, gum Arabic, turpentine, and resin. It's gonna keep the hot air where it belongs."

"So you say, Herr Pridmore. But how do we get it on the envelope?"

"I'm glad you asked that, Bernard. We're going to soak each and every piece of cloth in this stuff and let it dry. Local weather wizards say we have about a week of clear weather, so we've got to jump on this."

"Oh, I see. Hmm. I think I've something to do in town . . ."

"No, you don't. You're my helper, and this is what you're helping with. Reva already bailed out on me, said she'd rather boil soap. Can you imagine that?"

Bernard looked as though he, too, would rather stir stinking soap over a hot fire than drag fifty foot lengths of cloth through the vat and lay them out to dry. But there was no escape.

"Don't worry. I got more help coming. You remember them boy scouts over at the Methodist church? One of the boys won't let me alone with questions about hot air balloons. The Council has agreed to allow him to work on a hot air balloon merit badge, and named me as the local expert. He and about ten of his friends are headed over to learn how to build a balloon. With all those hands, and youthful enthusiasm, we should be able to get through this today."

The boy scouts arrived in good time, and all set to work with a will. The weather was fine and warm, and while it was uncomfortable standing by the fire, the breeze helped. By the end of the day, the muslin was coated, and drying on every bush and clothes line in sight. Marlon, Bernard, and eleven boy scouts were coated with gummy brown stuff from head to toe.

September, 1635

Ulrich Schwarz frequently felt like he wasn't a good choice for leadership of a scout troop. He had never been a boy scout, and wasn't always comfortable with all the customs of the troop. The boys knew much more about the requirements and the confusing paperwork for these merit badges. He had been methodically working through his first-class qualification, sharing one of the books they had for the group of new scouts.

He liked the idea of Boy Scouts. It really was a good idea to have training for young boys, and the uniforms and mottos were certainly uplifting. But he still didn't feel comfortable as the authority.

"Herr Schwarz, have you ever read Tom Sawyer?" The question brought Ulrich back to reality.

"No, I do not read English so good, yet. Do you like it?"

Fritz Metzger and J. D. Cunningham were bent over a book, trying to read it together. "Yeah. I think it's great," said J.D. He was an up-timer, and seemed inseparable from his friend Fritz. "See, there is this boy named Tom, and he's got a friend called Huck. And they go on adventures, and get into a lot of trouble."

Ulrich wasn't sure how advisable it was to give these boys a book about more trouble. They were well capable of finding their own.

"Boys, it is time to put the book aside. We must start our troop meeting." Ulrich watched as almost twenty boys ranging from ages eleven to fifteen settled into chairs. The meeting was held in a classroom at the Methodist church, and it was the first time that Ulrich had to run the meeting. Between the colds and flu that were going around, he was the only adult available today.

After the opening flag ceremony, and recitation of the motto, Ulrich nodded to Levi Carstairs, the oldest boy. Levi stood and walked to the front, carrying a small pocket notebook.

"Before we get to today's activities, I want to remind you about the Orienteering Hike we've got this weekend. We have permission to set up the course in the hunting preserve of the dukes of Saxe-Weimar on the northeast of town. It's only a couple of miles away. How many of you need this for first class qualifications?"

Only the two youngest raised their hands. Levi nodded, and then looked at Ulrich. "Herr Schwarz is going with the Tenderfoots, so you two make sure you take good care of him. Mrs. Moss wouldn't take it too well if you let her handy-man get lost."

"No, and neither would my platoon sergeant." Ulrich had been sworn into the army when he turned eighteen and was very proud of his rank of Private First Class. If only it was as easy to get a promotion in the scouts.

Levi looked sternly at the boys. "Now for the rest of you. We will meet here at the church on Saturday morning. Remember to be on time!"

****

Everything for the balloon was ready. Reva and Agnes had worked hard to get the enormous envelope sewn together. It was a good thing that Reva owned one very good sewing machine, and the other older one she had kept after upgrading.

Bernard and Marlon were in the barn, gathering bits and pieces. Marlon grinned and asked his friend, "Where is Helga today? She was up so early."

"She went with some of the girls from school. I don't know exactly what their plans are, but they have chaperones along. Agnes is with her. That soldier, Ulrich Schwarz, has been showing a little too much interest in her lately, and Agnes decided to put a stop to 'accidental meetings.'"

Marlon straightened from where he was laying out all his brand new instrumentation. "I think I've met that young man. He stays over there with Geneva Moss, doesn't he? I heard he was helping supervise a boy scout troop. Those boys get a mite rambunctious now and again. Ulrich seems to have a steady hand with them, without losing his temper. Good practice for him, I'd say."

"Ah, Marlon. You just don't understand. You don't have a daughter who is approaching womanhood. When I see all the young men in town follow her with their eyes, I just want to knock their heads together."

Marlon smiled, and crouched to the ground. Along with the instruments he had built for the airship, he laid out the hand-held radio that he and Reva had used on chase crews over the years. And Reva insisted that he add in the first-aid kit he had carried in his car for a couple of years.

"Herr Pridmore, those instruments are amazing. Do you think they will work?"

Marlon smiled, and nodded. "Yes, I think they will. I've done all the tests on them that I can think of. Now we just need the field test.

****

Saturday morning arrived with clearing skies, which calmed one of Ulrich's fears. He had done maneuvers with the army in the rain, but he really didn't relish the thought of dealing with the boys in that weather.

Levi whistled for quiet, and stood on a stump that was there just for that purpose. "Okay, everybody. This hike today is for Orienteering. I want everyone to remember that as scouts, we leave a site better than we found it. We don't disturb the trees or animals, and only pick up deadwood if we need it. We want the duke to be glad he let us use his preserve again. And make sure that everyone stays with their group. Safety first, you know.

"Now, who has a compass?" Five of them held up their hands. Ulrich did also. "Right. There are seventeen of us here this morning. Let's break up into three- or four-man groups, and share the compasses. And we have a small prize for the first team that finishes the course and returns with the flag. Here are your instructions."

The boys sorted themselves into groups, and Ulrich found himself with Fritz and J.D. Fritz said, "Herr Scoutmeister, I have your compass, and a canteen. J.D. can carry lunch for us, and we will let you be in charge of the instructions. Is that okay?"

"Ja. That is good. We can trade later, so J.D. learns to use the compass also."

Levi held up his whistle and shouted to be heard over the tumult. "Everybody ready? On your marks! Get set! Go!" He blew a mighty blast on the whistle.

Like racehorses responding to the trumpet, the boys took off at a run. It had begun.

****

Marlon and Bernard spread the envelope out flat on the grass. Flattened, the envelope was more than one hundred fifty feet long, and sixty feet wide, and weighed four hundred fifty pounds. This airship was a monster! It had a gondola that would seat three and mounted two forty-horsepower ducted fan engines (robbed from two defunct dirt bikes). The frame had an inverted "V" tail. Lift was provided from a set of internal burners that blew hot air inside the sealed envelope. The gondola was hung from curtain catenaries.

"Bernard, the difference between this beast and a regular hot air balloon is the engines. If we didn't have them and the vector fans, we would be subject to the whim of the wind."

Bernard nodded as he listened to Marlon, but truly it didn't make much sense to him. He hadn't seen a "regular hot air balloon" to compare to this one. It would just have to wait until they got it up in the air.

****

Ulrich shook his head as he tried to make sense of the directions. They had been walking for two hours, and had not found point M, which was the second to last mark on the map before the flag. It had not been as long between any of the other locations, and he was sure that they were lost. It also didn't help that none of them had been here for other scout activities.

"J.D., hand me the map again." Ulrich had already examined it not five minutes before, and this time didn't change anything. They were still lost. He didn't recognize any of the landmarks.

Fritz held up the compass once again. "I think we have come too far north and not far enough east. What should we do?"

"Well, a scout should always be prepared. What did you bring for emergencies?"

"I brought a blanket in my pack, in case it rained again," J.D. said.

Fritz's eyes lit up. "I have some extra crackers and cheese."

"Good. You're both learning to be prepared. If we do not find our way home tonight, someone will come and find us. And I think we have enough to be okay tonight." Ulrich could tell that the boys tried hard to keep fear from their faces. It would not do to act like babies.

Ulrich looked around, and pointed to a hill southwest of them that seemed taller than the others around. "We will go to that hill, climb to the top, and see if we can spot something familiar from there. I think the sun has only two more hours before it sets, and we may have to be out here after dark."

****

Getting everything laid out, strapped on the gondola, and prepared for inflation took the men most of the daylight, with a short break for sandwiches and beer.

"Well, look at you two, smug as a cat with a mouse between his paws," said Reva.

"Darlin', I think this thing is really gonna run. You shoulda seen the fire-up on the burners before we set them in the envelope. Bernard just about burned off his left eyebrow." Marlon elbowed the tall, thin German in the ribs, and laughed.

Bernard grinned sheepishly. "One would think that I would remember to keep mein head away from it."

"I think you were mistrusting me about whether or not this thing would really burn."

Bernard frowned. "I've never seen something like this. How was I to know?"

Agnes hurried over to examine Bernard. Marlon stretched, and looked at the horizon west of his place. The sun had already passed behind them, and the sky was darkening. He shook his head. "I think it's too late to try this today. Don't want to be fiddling in the dark."

Reva put her hand on her hip, and got that same old belligerent look. "Course not. Just get your tarps and whatnot, and cover it up till morning, and we can go in and have a nice supper."

She walked back into the house, shaking her head, and muttering to herself. Reva didn't always need others around to have a conversation, especially when she was irritated with Marlon.

Her husband grinned at her back, then turned to Helga. "So, girl, you gonna be around in the morning to help with liftoff?"

Helga's eyes glowed. "Yes, I think I will. But it doesn't look like it will fly. It looks like an auto with a very large cloth cover."

"Oh, it'll fly, all right. You just be here at five a.m. and see for yourself."

****

Ulrich and the boys neared the top of the ridge. There weren't too many trees, and bare rock jutted from the side of the trail they followed. At the crest, both boys sat on a large boulder to catch their breath. The walk uphill had been a little longer than Ulrich thought it would be.

He looked out over the landscape, and didn't see one thing that he could identify on the map. They were well and truly lost.

"All right. I cannot see a way to go, and it is almost dark. Right here by this rock will be a good place to shelter. J.D., you start gathering some wood. And remember to only pick up dead branches. We don't want to disturb this forest any more than we already have."

****

Ulrich and the two boys huddled together under J.D.'s blanket. They were burrowed into dead leaves between the roots of an oak tree.

It had gotten cold. Ulrich slipped out of the blanket to put more wood on the little fire, and then stepped out from under the branches of the tree. The night was very dark. No starlight, or even the moon, was visible through the clouds. At least it wasn't raining.

He turned at a small rustling sound behind him. "Who is there?" he whispered.

"It's me, Fritz. I've to go."

"Okay. Over there by that hazel bush. Be careful in the dark."

As Fritz scampered off toward the area they had decided was their privy, Ulrich sat back down by the fire. The crackers and cheese they had eaten at dusk now seemed ages away. He was saving Frau Moss' oatmeal cookies for breakfast. Now he wished he had thought to carry more food. They had enough water, but not much else.

"Fritz, where are you? You have been gone so long. Are you all right?"

There was no answer. Ulrich checked the fire, and on J.D., snoring away in the pile of old leaves. Both could be alone for a few minutes. He stood for a moment outside the circle of firelight to let his eyes adjust, and then walked toward the bush.

"Fritz?" Ulrich listened for a moment, and then heard leaves rustling and the soft crack of a twig. It was coming off to his left. "Fritz, are you there? Fritz?"

Still he could hear nothing except rustling leaves. And he couldn't tell if it was Fritz, or a slight wind in the treetops.

Then a terrified scream split the night. It was ahead of him, and a little more to the left. "Fritz, answer me!"

"Ulrich? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Fritz. Where are you?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"Just keep talking, and I will find you." Ulrich thought that Fritz's voice sounded strained and frightened.

"Ulrich, my leg really hurts. I thought I saw a light over here, but when I came toward it, the ground suddenly disappeared."

Ulrich was inching forward with his hands feeling the dark ground in front of him. "Keep talking, Fritz. I am close. I will help."

"I thought it was a lantern or something through the trees, and I thought I could find someone to help us. I guess it was a witch light, like in Tom Sawyer."

Ulrich felt bare rock, then nothing. He laid down on his belly, and inched forward until his head was hanging out over a chasm. In the darkness, it was difficult to tell how large it was. Fritz had fallen into a sinkhole. "Fritz, where are you hurt?"

"I don't know, Herr Scoutmeister. My arm isn't moving too well, and my leg really hurts." Ulrich could hear suppressed tears in the boy's voice.

"Don't move! I will get a light."

****

Marlon rolled out of bed promptly at 4:30 a.m., as he had done every morning at any balloon rally he had attended. Balloonists know that in the hour right at dawn, the air is at it's coolest—which aids in hot-air inflation—and the wind was usually still. He didn't want to inflate this monster in anything more than a one- to two-knot ground breeze.

"I'm going to go start breakfast," Reva said, a bit drowsily.

"Woman, don't bother with food right now. I got too much on my mind for that."

"I got something special planned for you, you old goat. I don't want no backtalk, either. You hear me?" The last was delivered with a stern expression, but the twinkling gray eyes and wry smile let Marlon know she was teasing him.

He grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

****

Bernard and Helga were pulling on coats and work gloves. Marlon pulled his old leather gloves from his back pocket and did the same. "I'm kind of glad we don't have everyone in the neighborhood underfoot when we try to launch today."

Bernard nodded. "Ja, it is better to fail without an audience."

"What do you mean, fail? Don't you think we'll get it off the ground?" Marlon turned his grin on Helga. "Maybe I shoulda had you get that young man to help us today. We've still got a lot of work ahead to get this beast off the ground." Marlon's eyes twinkled as he teased her. "What was his name? Oh, yeah, Ulrich. Maybe he could come over and help out. We could use another strong back."

"I think he does not like me now," Helga said. "He said he would call last night when he got back from the hike. But he didn't."

"That's too bad. He'd have been a great help."

Bernard frowned. "I think we can do this without that man."

Marlon laughed out loud. "Well, Bernard, we're gonna have to, I guess."

They proceeded out to the meadow. The morning was crisp and cold, just like the weather guessers said it would be. In the pre-dawn, the wind still hadn't risen and that argued for little or no wind at dawn.

"We need to christen this ship before we launch," Marlon said. "And I think I know what to name her. Helga, go ask Reva for something fizzy to launch this with."

Moments later, she returned carrying a beer bottle, and a strange paper contraption, followed by Reva and Agnes.

Laughing, Marlon took the items. "Looks like Reva anticipated what I'd want again."

They stood in a half-circle around the bow of the ship. Marlon didn't want to break a good bottle or leave glass in the meadow. So he opened the flip lid and said, "I hereby christen thee Upwind." He splashed about half the beer on the nose of the gondola, and then they shared sips of the rest of the brew.

"Okay, time to get this show on the road. I need to know wind speeds in the upper levels of atmosphere."

While Reva and Agnes went back to the house, Helga picked up the paper construction she had carried from the kitchen. It was a small handmade balloon with a cup on the bottom that held a candle stub. She held the paper form from a string in the top.

Marlon went into the meadow to get a good clear view. From forty feet away, he shouted, "Light it up." Soon the paper balloon was filled with hot air, trying to escape sky ward. The balloon had a white ribbon hanging from the cup.

"Let her go!" Marlon couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice.

The balloon rose gracefully upward. drifting a little away from town. At about two thousand feet, the candle guttered out. Even the ribbon wasn't visible.

"Almost no wind. It'll be a good flight," Marlon said. "Now be careful when we take up the tarps. The dew has settled, and we don't want the envelope wet. Pick the tarp up, and let the water pour off the side. And for heaven's sake, don't step on the envelope."

Bernard and Helga lifted the tarps and poured the little rivulets of water to the side. Marlon stood for a moment, admiring the ship.

Reva came out of the house with a tray. Agnes followed behind her with a steaming pot of tea and four cups. "Marlon, before you go too far, it's time to eat."

"Woman, I don't have time for that. We need to get this thing off the ground!"

"Now, none of that, Swordfish." She motioned to Bernard, who took the small TV table from under her elbow and set it up. She set the tray on the table, whisked off the towel, and there, steaming invitingly, was a collection of bundles wrapped in napkins.

"What is it?" Marlon stepped closer, and got a whiff of beans and chili. "My favorite. When did you make breakfast burritos?"

"I put them together this morning. Went over to Monica's yesterday, and we made up a batch of refried beans and some of her carne adovada. What do you think I was doing all day, lollygagging?"

****

The envelope was inflated, and the engines were running. Helga and Bernard had taken their seats in the gondola, and ...

That ends the preview. Probably in the middle of a sentence. Sorry.

The content of articles is available only to logged in members.

You can either Log In or subscribe.

In the mean time, a preview of this story is shown above. It's about the first half.