He could not stay away. Tonight, as on prior visits, Dr. Warren crossed Griffin’s Wharf to where dockworkers had moored Dartmouth, the first tea ship to arrive in Boston. Twice each day, in the morning and twelve hours later in the evening, she slid imperceptibly fourteen feet down the wharf side on the ebbing tide and rose six hours later on the flood. He briefly scanned the ship’s deck before he nodded to the twenty or so armed volunteer guards posted about the ship and the wharf to deter unloading of the tea. Through the darkness, he glimpsed Eleanor, the second tea ship, swinging at anchor, some thirty yards off the wharf. Although not in view, he knew Beaver, the third tea ship, lay at anchor in the outer harbor. She could not come up to Griffin’s until her smallpox quarantine ended on the fifteenth. Earlier today, a rider brought him word concerning William, the overdue fourth tea ship. She was aground on Cape Cod near Provincetown. Warren sent back a message, ‘William’s tea must not come to Boston.’

Satisfied all was well, Warren withdrew into the dark shadow cast by the warehouse overhang at the end of the wharf. He recalled the night in November his involvement with the tea began with a summons from Samuel Adams, his political mentor.

Sam was his usual blunt self. “A dilemma faces each tea ship captain once they reach Boston. On one hand, they’ll face incessant demands by the citizens to return the tea to London immediately. On the other, Governor Hutchinson will apply provincial law to prevent the ships from leaving until someone pays the duty. The impasse continues until the day after the twentieth day from Dartmouth’s arrival at which time the customs officials seize the cargo, offload it to their customs warehouse, and wait for the consignees, two of which are the governor’s sons, to pay the duty and take possession of the tea.

“To prevent the landing, we must publically support the citizens demands while we apply consistent pressure on the governor and the captains. Our true objective, however, remains the same: destroy the tea on or before the twentieth day. Joseph, fashion me a plan for the tea’s destruction without harm to the ships or their crews. Do it quickly. Time flies before us.”

Warren threw himself into what at first seemed to be an overwhelming task. He had never before conceived of anything so complex. Friendly mariners and dockworkers taught him techniques for moving cargo about a ship. At a tea merchant, he viewed the actual weights and dimensions of the expected full, half, and quarter lead-lined tea chests. Full chests were brutes with weights of almost five hundred pounds. Hoisting them out of the cargo holds would require strength and time.

After weeks, he sketched out a plan. Men would drag heavy chests onto cargo nets secured to block-and-tackles. Others on deck would hoist the chests and swing them over to the rail.

He could not stay away. Tonight, as on prior visits, Dr. Warren crossed Griffin’s Wharf to where dockworkers had moored Dartmouth, the first tea ship to arrive in Boston. Twice each day, in the morning and twelve hours later in the evening, she slid imperceptibly fourteen feet down the wharf side on the ebbing tide and rose six hours later on the flood. He briefly scanned the ship’s deck before he nodded to the twenty or so armed volunteer guards posted about the ship and the wharf to deter unloading of the tea. Through the darkness, he glimpsed Eleanor, the second tea ship, swinging at anchor, some thirty yards off the wharf. < The bits marked in orange are the only sections of the entire opening that are happening in the moment.  Focusing on the past, what the character already knows, has already done, etc. does not draw readers into the story, which is primarily where this opening is suffering. Although not in view, he knew Beaver, the third tea ship, lay at anchor in the outer harbor. She could not come up to Griffin’s until her smallpox quarantine ended on the fifteenth. Earlier today, a rider brought him word concerning William, the overdue fourth tea ship. She was aground on Cape Cod near Provincetown. Warren sent back a message, ‘William’s tea must not come to Boston.’

Satisfied all was well, Warren withdrew into the dark shadow cast by the warehouse overhang at the end of the wharf. He recalled < You never want to have a character remembering (flashing back) to something within the first few pages. It gives the impression you’re not starting the book at the right point. You’re also asking the reader to hold tight while you pause the book’s action for an info dump before you’ve even established any action or any reason for the reader to care. the night in November his involvement with the tea began with a summons from Samuel Adams, his political mentor.

Sam was his usual blunt self. “A dilemma faces each tea ship captain once they reach Boston. On one hand, they’ll face incessant demands by the citizens to return the tea to London immediately. On the other, Governor Hutchinson will apply provincial law to prevent the ships from leaving until someone pays the duty. The impasse continues until the day after the twentieth day from Dartmouth’s arrival at which time the customs officials seize the cargo, offload it to their customs warehouse, and wait for the consignees, two of which are the governor’s sons, to pay the duty and take possession of the tea.

“To prevent the landing, we must publically support the citizens demands while we apply consistent pressure on the governor and the captains. Our true objective, however, remains the same: destroy the tea on or before the twentieth day. Joseph, fashion me a plan for the tea’s destruction without harm to the ships or their crews. Do it quickly. Time flies before us.” < This dialogue feels like an info dump – a way to sneak in a bunch of information without doing the heavy lifting of showing instead of telling. Unfortunately, it doesn’t give the reader anything interesting to latch onto.

Warren threw himself into what at first seemed to be an overwhelming task. He had never before conceived of anything so complex. Friendly mariners and dockworkers taught him techniques for moving cargo about a ship. At a tea merchant, he viewed the actual weights and dimensions of the expected full, half, and quarter lead-lined tea chests. Full chests were brutes with weights of almost five hundred pounds. Hoisting them out of the cargo holds would require strength and time.

After weeks, he sketched out a plan. Men would drag heavy chests onto cargo nets secured to block-and-tackles. Others on deck would hoist the chests and swing them over to the rail. < You’re still not focusing on the moment. Paint a picture of what’s happening right now and let your character live the moment. Focus on what he’s seeing, hearing, feeling, etc. Make it vivid and interesting.