Just around the forested berth, it loomed into view–a black ship.
She was slim like a leaf and painted in a dark stain, highlighted by white-grained wood underneath. The lateen sails were cleanly secured, and her prow dipped gently over each pull of the tide. She was small for a voyaging vessel, but Cyprus recognized the build—a caravel, the kind his father praised for its swiftness. On her weathered flag flapped the white outline of a skull, a magpie perched atop it to pluck a coin from its eye socket.
–Elyan White, “Lost and Found”
Caravels are the best kind of ship. Change my mind.