As the rest of the crew finally emerged onto the deck, the captain gave a few orders but otherwise left them to do their work. Willis cast one last glance down to the busy docks before heaving himself upright and crossing the deck himself. He helped a few of the men with what they were doing to get the ship ready on his way below once again.<br/><br/>As his eyes adjusted to the change from sunlight to the much dimmer lights below deck, Willis didn't stop in his path. Having memorized the route easily he could traverse it blindfolded if he had to. Everything was as it should be, and things were stocked and ready to go.<br/><br/>"All's ready and waitin'." One of the other stokers commented as Willis checked.<br/><br/>"Good to hear." He answered back. He wasn't happy about this trip, crossing the Atlantic. It would be a lot of work, heck, even if they had a full crew it would be hard. Leaning against the wall, Willis sighed and closed his eyes.<br/><br/>"Ready for hell." He muttered.<br/><br/>"In a hand basket." The other stoker laughed, earning a smirk from Willis.<br/><br/>"You can say that again."