The man’s fingers were surprisingly nimble as he guided the needle back and forth through the fabric. Although Alice had done her own fair share of needlework at home, her skill paled in comparison to Sam’s.

He was a strange looking man, just a bit taller than her. His dark complexion matched his coffee eyes, and his bushy eyebrows were scrunched together, focusing on fixing the tear in the sail. Alice worked on her own portion, stitching back and forth with the sturdy white thread.

“Hey, carful, you’re gonna stich the fabric underneath if you don't focus!” he pointed out.

Alice smoothed out the fabric that had gathered under the layer she was sewing. She was surprised by how much life at sea resembled her chores at home.

“I’m finished,” she said, bringing the material up to his face. “Now how do I tie the thread in the end?” She asked, needle in hand.

He looked at her like she was some kind of novelty, as if she’d asked him if tigers had stripes. “You don’t know how to finish the last stich?” he asked, bewildered. “Did no one teach you how to sew at home?”

Alice blushed. “My nannies always insisted that I do needlework, but I never really developed a liking for it,” she explained. “To be completely truthful, I don't think I’ve ever finished a piece in my life.”

“Really?” he said, taking the needle from her hand. “Well then you better pay close attention, cause I’m only gonna show you once.”

“You go under your last stick,” he said, guiding the needle, “then over the top here.”

Alice nodded.

“After that you put it through this gap,” he said, sticking his tongue out in focus. “Finally you tie a knot here, and you’re done!” he clipped the thread and stretch the fabric to show how secure it was.

“Now don’t you go forgetting this, ok?” he said.

“Don't worry, I won’t,” she replied. “This is much more interesting than the needlework at home.” And she truly meant it.