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Pindari was not a man to be a burden, even when that was his only job. It was a little unfortunate for the crew of the small schooner, his large stature had been a hinderance working with the smaller equipment. And though he had been more of an obstacle than a help, no one had gathered up the courage to stop him. He was not a passenger. He never had been, and as long as he could walk on his own, he never would be.

But as the island came into view, he was dumbstruck by the beauty of it. The trees alone amazed him, even more so than the water rushing the beach. As they neared the dock and the man came into view, he let go of the rope he had been holding, going to the bow to get a better look. Behind him, one of the crew caught hold of the rope with difficulty, swearing under his breath for the "bloody bushman" to watch what he was doing.

Pindari didn't notice the comment, and if he had he simply hadn't acknowledged it. "Milil-ma lagiban," he told himself, then added in crude English, "Changes quick as thunder." Stay strong, stay a dreamer, stay Pindari. Just like his father had told him so long ago.

After some time of ushering the boat to land and guiding the captain with a few waves so the reef could be avoided, she roughly brushed up against the wood of the docks with a loud creak. The resultant noise made Alphonse wince, and he begun work on helping tying the small ship down as soon as it got close enough for him to do so.

The creak of wood is heard as the ramp began to go down almost directly on top of Alphonse, but the man skittered away from it before it could do any real damage. "You a**!" Moreau cried, shaking his fist at the deckhand who lowered the ramp. "Make sure I'm not right there before doing that!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry, sir!" blurted the young deckhand, a wiry boy who didn't seem very experienced or careful with what he did. "Y-you're alright, aren't you?"

"I am," Moreau said harshly, smoothing down his cream-colored hair with a hand. "I shall be docking your pay for that, though. Do be more careful next time."

The grin faded momentarily at the swearing from below the boat. But the floating timber was no longer rocking violently, and he'd finally escape the nasty stench of wet cat. Gleefully he tossed his umbrella into the air and made to catch it. By a combination of drunken dexterity and poor depth perception (for he only had one eye) it clattered to the deck. He stooped and groped for it.

The sunlight made his headache slightly worse, but it wasn't as bad as that one time after he'd been drinking with the very loose lady in the bar... Weaving, he stumbled his way to the top of the plank, unconsciously shying away from the towering dark-skinned man. He flung out an arm, clinging desperately to the side of the ship. If he let go, surely he'd fall into the sky.

"'Hoy there, sir! Ah tell ya, land's never looked so-" He hiccuped again. "So wunnerful!"

Pindari started to follow the boy back to the cargo hold, he would probably need help after all, but stopped when he realized the "sirs" comment had pertained to him as well as someone else. Turning back, he waved a calloused hand, "Maman! Maman no-dew-ma mamin!" It didn't take him but a few long strides to get to the ramp, and with practiced balance a few more to come down it onto the dock. He looked back up at the ship to see who of his company on the ship was getting off here, genuinely interested in who else the pale man was calling "Sir" if he himself fell under the category.

The ghastly sound of the ship scraping against the dock, followed shortly by the clunk of the ramp was all too startling a noise to be ignored by one final passenger of the small schooner. With a very unlady-like snort, a delicate lady sat bolt upright on her 'bed.' More like lumpy obtrusion from the wall. Dazed, she looked about her surroundings and remembered her reason for being on such a grotty little boat.

Wishing to look her most impressionable, even in front of foreigners and beastly crewmen, Emily quickly threw on her undercoats and petticoat, followed by her lovely blue embroided bodice and deep blue skirt. Nice white shirt, which could have been more crisp to Emily's usual tastes, finished off the look nicely.

The flurry of activity of deckhands and crewmen confirmed Emily's thoughts - they had docked and were unloading. Although, she hoped the ship would be docked long enough for her to gather some exotic plants and then join them for the trip back to England. She couldn't imagine the thought of being marooned.

Lightly locking her fingers in a very dainty way, she appeared on deck, looking around feverishly for any sign of a civilised gentleman, or the captain at the very least. She had spied some of her belongings being unloaded. That was when she saw a tall, and strangely dignified, pale faced and pale haired gentlemen, conversing with a foreigner and an inebriated fellow. Oh dear, a complete scoundrel and a foreigner...she took a breath and gracefully descended the ramp.

Pindari didn't seem too bothered by the noises from the ship, he had helped tend to the cargo for much of the trip after all. Instead, the wife comment got his attention. "Eh?" He questioned, following the man's gaze up onto the ship. Definitely not his wife, she was far too pale, "Not mine."

He had chosen not to say anything to the apparently drunk man, but he realized that leaving him in the dark about who was around might not be the best idea. "Right there," he said surely, pointing toward where the pale man still stood, "He mamin."

Emily approached the little gathering, her eyes fixed on the polite if somewhat cold gentleman, and was about to reply when she was rudely interrupted by the drunken man. As comical as his antics were, he was annoying and made Emily wrinkle her nose. Cupping her hands once more in a refined manner, she ignored Michael's comment.

"No, I'm certainly not anybody's wife. At least not here, not yet," she replied with a pleasant smile.

"I do apologise for my late embarkment, one does get quite carried away when studying plants."