The lad sat watching his ship lie stagnant at anchor in the lagoon. She was a hardy vessel, he had been handed command with her in bad shape, rigging in tatters, worm infested planking and most of her canon rusted solid
His former ship had been a small lass but up for any fight she had sailed into, done him proud she had but when he was washed overboard amid a battle when a storm struck he had watched her shot to pieces by the rest of the pirate fleet to save her falling into enemy hands, he had wept to watch her go but as his cap’n had told him, such was life on the sea
As his boots hit the deck of his next charge he knew it would take pure hard toil to get her in shape, many a midnights passing found him working on the canon, measuring the shot, weighing the powder and after many a week on ‘t hard once again her hull was solid, her canvas stitched and the paint glistening
He had sailed her into many a skirmish only to watch the opposing ships take the canon fire heavy and the sailors abandon into the sea. Then the unspeakable had happened to the fleet ‘o mercenary and buccaneers, ships were lost without a trace, the cap’ns ship found without a helmsman and soon they were at each others throats
Another fleet ‘o bloodthirsty heathen was found but it was discovered comrades over pints ‘o rum not necessarily be comfortable comrades when the canon be roaring and so the band sailed into a battle of their own making shipmates at each others throats, promises made and broken until finally all the ships had set their sails high and gone where the winds took them
Some had found new flags to fly over their ships as they went about their bloody trade, some sailed off to places as yet undiscovered and some simply turned the canon to blow holes through their own hulls to shake hands wiv Davy Jones, the lad had found himself in the company of some true shipmates however all was not as it seemed and many a cap’n was found wanting when a firm hand was needed at the helm, preferring the soft targets rather than a proper challenge and now the devious methods of such and the persistence of the pursuers had seen yet another fleet dispersed and now he found himself sitting on this sand looking at what he had built and wondering what the future may hold for the both of them
But as any true sailor finds himself doing, his eyes also ran to the horizon, sweeping the line that divides ocean and sky seeking some ship to sail into view, either friend or foe no matter to him but some sign of what his destiny may hold for him was what he seeked
Lo and behold at that very moment there be a cry from the masthead, the boy Nato had long since departed but the new charge hollered at the top of his lungs
“There be a cluster of sails and if my eyes not deceive me Skipper it be flying the Jolly Roger above the laundry !”
The lad jolted to his feet and strained his sight to see what the boy be declaring to be so but it was many a minute before the skeleton of a rig became apparent to him, the wind blew in his face and so it carried the mystery ship quickly into view and there was no doubt a black flag flew at the head of the mast, there be only one insignia emblazoned on that to be sure and it made his heart sing to know what it would indeed be
Soon it hove into view proper and he recognised it from days gone past, the ship of a true shipmate long since departed into Davy Jones’ clutches and he winced at the thought. It be the enemy with a new stead attacking him again ? But the outline of the figure behind the wheel was vaguely familiar, it be someone he knew, the matter was just who that be...
