I were born in Portsmouth, England--the youngest child in a family of six children. One of me sisters died of the pox when I was but a babe. Another died giving birth to her third child, but I were well grown by then. Me father were a navigator in His Majesty�s Navy. He died of the scurvy on a voyage to the East Indies aboard the HMS Greenwich when I were only ten years of age. He left behind just enough money to send my elder brother to school.
I look a lot like me father. Most people mistake me fer a Spaniard, but I assure you that I be an Englishman. Me dark complexion comes from working in the rigging, but me dark hair and eyes come from me father. He in turn inherited them from his Welsh mother; who got them from her mother; who took after her Irish grandfather. Family legend has it that his mother were a Selkie. But if ye will recall your nautical history, that were not too long after Sir Francis Drake gave the Spanish Armada a sound thrashing in the Channel. They fled to the North only to be caught by the wrath of the Almighty in a storm off North Ireland. I be not surprised that an Irishman would rather claim that his mother were a seal than admit that his grandfather were a Dego.
Anyway, I were at loose ends �till me 14th year when me mother married a burly wagoneer by the name of Murdock. A single trip to Birmingham convinced me that no matter how bad the weather, life at sea could not be rougher than life on the road. It were a good decision too, fer me step-father met a tragic end. He were neither a prudent nor industrious man, and to make ends meet he fell in with smugglers. He paid fer that with his life. A smuggler who thought he had been cheated shot him dead. Me poor mother was so ashamed of the scandal that she resumed livin� under me father�s good name. I were already at sea by then, but luckily my brother, who is now a doctor, could afford to support our Mum.
My first ships were small coastal traders. I served in the Fallingbrook fer 4 years, the Palomides and the St. Mark for one each, the St. Judith fer two, and the Tory�s Folly fer another. My first full-rigger was the Devonshire, whose home port were Boston in Massachusetts colony. I crewed her fer a year and I have volunteered on ships of one colony or another ever since. After the Devonshire, I sailed in the Augustus out of Eleuthra for three years. But I missed the camaraderie of a small ship, so I signed on a pinnace out of Annapolis called the Dove.
When the Dove put-in at home port, a shipmate introduced me to young lady by the name of Erin Evans. The Dove wintered over in Havre-de-Grace on the upper end of the Chesapeake, fer the freshwater kills ship-worm and extends the life of a vessel. I courted Miss Evans until the winter storms gave way to a spring breeze and it was time fer the Dove to sail. When I returned that summer, I took Miss Evans down to Londontown Public House to become Mrs. Green.
I soon larned that keeping a wife is an expensive enterprise, and so I signed on fer a two year voyage to the East Indies aboard the Lord Humphries. God blessed me not only with a safe return, but shortly thereafter with a healthy son. We named him James after both his grandfathers.
After such a long absence I were ready fer something closer to home so I signed on another coastal trader�the Ensign Ronald. We traded at every port from Newport, Virginia colony, to New York and made a profit at each, and I were home often enough that we had a daughter. Katharine be her name�my pritty kitty. But nothing too good lasts in this world. I should have known something were bad when the First mate resigned and left the ship after a dispute with the Captain. Later that year, we struck a rock off the Virginia Capes due to sloppy navigation. We manned the pumps all night, but it was clear that we were still takin� on water. Night turned to morning, yet neither the order to beach the ship, nor to man the boats were given. In the dawn light, I could see land. I figger that I had waited long enough, so I dove over the side and swam to shore. I hear that the Ensign Ron went down that day with the loss of several hands, yet somehow Captain Lay made it home without so much as a damp shoe.
That ship did sour me on coastal traders, so despite how much my good wife hates long separations, I signed on a full-rigger�the Lincoln. Unfortunately, bad luck has followed me fer during my second voyage on her we were boarded by the HMS King George and I were pressed into military service. 'Tis where I be today, wondering when I might see my sweet wife and little powder monkeys again. I pray this tale has a happy ending.
