I'll warn ye now; this is no heroic tale of adventure, no sonnet of treasures won and foes vanquished. T'is is simple tale, from me days as a merchant, a tale of me one true love, the Sea. Ah, but the Sea is fickle and cruel, like no other. Listen, and I'll tell ye...
So I accept a commission from a Mr Andrews, 4 hogs he wants, delivered to Plunder Outpost before the week is out. No doubt for some fancy gathering of the nobility, the sort of soiree that the likes of you and me would never be invited to. Hah! But we're good enough to fetch the main course for 'em, aren't we? For the right price, of course.
Anyway, I stock up the Lass with plenty of 'nanas - ye know how hungry those pigs get at sea...what? Oh that's the name of me Sloop, the Naughty Lass.
A fine vessel, the Lass, most weatherly with her bluff lines and stiff sheets. She's nimble too, and fast; just perfect for meself and any crew I may be lucky enough to voyage with...now, where was I?
Oh yes, so fully stocked, the Lass and I head out to Devil's Ridge; always plenty of pork to be found there! I pull in along the eastern beach just as the beginnings of a storm begin to gather far to the west. No problem, thinks I, donning me sea jacket and hat, before gathering the pig cages and heading ashore.
As luck would have it, all four of the pigs Mr Andrews wants are there for the taking, and take them I do, stowing them safely below deck. I feed and water 'em - and ye Gods, the stink! I had to scrub the Lass from bow to stern to rid her of it! -and then I plot course for the Outpost. That was when I realised the storm lay square in me way. It was a boat-killer of a storm too, not one I'd risk the Lass in, not for Mr Andrews I wouldn't.
I decide to head south-west, charting a path around the edge of the storm. The wind was backing westerly, so progress was not as quick as it might have been. Still, I stay well clear of the heart of the storm, making sure me porcine passengers are kept well fed. Once past the worst of it, I head nor'east, skirting Thieve's Haven on me way to the outpost.
There's Skellies on that island, sure I don't need to tell ye that. And one of the Damned decides to fire upon the Lass, sending canon balls arcing into the air. No, I don't panic any more then ye would - those Skellies have worse aim then a drunken sailor trying to use the head! Sure, the wind had changed quarter again, so that the Lass was beating upwind, but I wasn't concerned. I glide past the canon emplacement, already deciding what to spend Mr Andrew's coin on.
It isn't till I'm past the island that I hear the sound of wood splintering and realise one of those Skellies got lucky, and the Lass has been hit! I run below deck to check on me cargo - the four little pigs be fine. So I grab some wood and scour the hull for damage, but there is none to be found. And there's barely any water aboard, just a buckets-worth deposited by the storm. P'raps the shot landed elsewhere?
Before I can search, the thought is driven from me mind by the sound all sailors in these waters fear - the sound of something immense powering through the water with evil intent. Me mouth goes dry and I rush back to the helm, eyes scanning the waves frantically. I look port side and it breaches, a thing out of nightmare, the Megalodon.
The Naughty Lass is a fine vessel, but she's a Sloop, nonetheless. Her hull can't take a pounding like a Brig, or a Gally. One bite from that monster could be enough to sink her, especially with me crewing alone on this voyage. I cast about, seeking inspiration p'raps, and there I see redemption - dead ahead, the Outpost lies no more than a league distant! If I can just hold the beast at bay till I hit those shallow waters around the island, I'll be safe!
So I man the cannons, pounding the beast again and again as she circles the Lass, preparing to strike. Onward we sail, ever closer to shore and safety. The Meg pulls away, then turns and speeds towards the Lass, preparing to ram her and send me and all me dreams and desires to a watery grave...and then it stops! Looking across the bow I see we've made it - we've reached the Outpost! With a final roar of disgust, the beast disappears back beneath the waves, heading out to deeper waters.
I whoop for joy, sending the meg off with an impromptu jig of delight. "Not today, Meggy! Today, ye go hungry!" I crow, before sailing in gently to the pier and anchoring up. Time to deliver me cargo and collect me reward.
As I head down, I notice a hole behind the map desk, just above the water-line, and I realise, that's where the Skellie's shot connected. As I watch, a large wave forces some water through the hole, not enough to sink me, but...
Rushing below deck, me fears are realised. There's p'raps 2 feet of water on the deck, and four dead pigs - drowned! All me efforts, all that toil, for nothing!
So that's me tale. I warned ye there was nothing heroic or noble about it...but p'raps there's a lesson t'be learned. Never mock the Sea, it don't take kindly to pridefulness.
Now I intend to do the only sane thing a sailor can do in these circumstance; get right royally drunk. Here's to the Sea, in all its cruel beauty!
