"Arr, ye be a good man, Mister Godfrey," Ciaran said as he took a mug of the hot coffee fer himself and handed one to John. "Gramercy, mate".
"Quite a view ye got up here," Patrick replied.
"Aye, indeed. Tis the best view on the ship."
The rain did its best to soak the mates up in the riggin'. Ciaran was used to it. It be one's tendency to fight it at first, tryin' against common sense to stay dry. But after awhile, ye let go of that thought and jes let yerself get immersed. Once ye become one with it, the rain don't much bother ye. And this rain was warm, so it actually felt good after the sun's hot rays.
John McGuinty was tryin' to keep his spyglass dry and was constantly wipin' the ends with his wet shirt.
"Jes put it away, lad," the older lookout said. "It will do ye little good anyway, as the visibility be cut down by these clouds. Jes rely on yer eyes now, boy."
John did as Ciaran said and put his eyepiece away. Ciaran was right. Jes yer naked eye was better in this grey weather. John watched as the men aboard the Cutter continued their explorations. Soon ye figured they'd be headin' back to The Watch Dog, if the storm increased.