Swamped

"Someone seems to be planning mutiny," he says. "Has anyone tried to get you involved in it?"

You ring the bell twice. You don't like where this is going, though.

"Captain, I have to object," Donnie says. "It's your prerogative to look into a possible mutiny, of course, but Chip here isn't in any shape to contribute to it."

"I'm trying to gauge how serious it is. Sometimes sailors make empty bluster about mutiny just to blow off steam. But the ship's not getting very far in these waters without a navigator." He looks directly at you. "Which means any mutiny worth worrying about would start by seeing if you'd be on board. If they don't, then either it's just talk or they don't have a clue what they're doing."

You don't know if you should respond. All you've got is a bell, after all.

"Well, Captain, I assure you that no one other than you will be coming in to see Chip without my approval," Donnie says. "So you'd probably find it more productive to go sniffing around in other corners for the next six hours rather than poking the poor navigator."

"My apologies, to both of you. I meant it to be a quick question so I could take note of the answer, didn't think about how I might need to explain myself. I'm mainly here because I have to talk about an important matter relating to your charts, Chip."

Whatever could that be?