It is still morning, and the weather continues to be unchanged ... clear skies, cool temperatures, moderate breeze. Altogether fairly pleasant, particularly as you are still not that far from many slashing cold days at sea in the Adriatic. It's almost as if you can smell Spring.
As you land aboard the island, with a few crewmembers - four you don't know well, Evard, Henning, Roald and Vilfred - who have been told to find fresh water for the boat and to report back. The Captain is seeing to it that the boat is secured in the harbour, and that the main balance of her crew is attending to the damage in the Petrel's side that has now been shown to be leaking. There's some five inches of water in the sub-hold, and that will need some attention. Therefore these four can be let off; Henning and Roald are sail-trimmers and mostly handle the ropes, Evard is the storebin's overseer and Vilfred is typically one of the two men in the crow's nest. Of them all, you know Evard best, since he is often around the horses.
The balance of the boat is filled with Detweiller and four of his men (Matthais, Marco, Gabriel and Konstantin). He will not take no for an answer, and assures the party that his purpose is to be on hand to ensure there's no trouble with the townspeople or the crew on the island. "I won't have you killed in a brawl," he says to Andrej. "So we will have a presence ashore."
The Magistrate Poppazoukalou has managed to return before the party, and now he greets the longboat as it makes its way upon the stony beach. There is no dock, no services of any kind that you can see; only a great deal of dusty rock, a few very white houses and a patch of greenery two hundred yards up the one low hill that's visible. The island is to the right is flat and stretches three quarters of a mile in sight, while the island on the right is a low ridge (showing a flat cliff of layered rock) pushing out into the sea, about fifty feet in height.
Poppazoukalou is sweating and mopping his brow as the party beaches.