The sentry sees your group approach and surveys you with a skeptical gaze, conveniently resting his hands along his belt within easy reach of the hilt of his sword while his stance became ready but without portraying overt hostility.  His expression eased slightly at the question, though his body language never changed.  “ ‘Fraid yer talkin’ to the wrong bloke, lass; I jus get paid to watch da boat.  You ought to ask the ‘arbourmaster or ca’in bout such tings.  Might be able to find da ca’in either drinkin’ or wenchin’, if not bof.  No idea where da ‘arbormastor can be found.”<br/>