Arrr, that remind's me o' tha' time I were sailin' the straits o'
Darkness on midwinter's day. Arrr. It were on me second ship, the
Spluttering Goat's-nap. A fine craft she were to. Arrr.
We set forth from Portsmouth in early October, hopin to' get to the
straits in time for the midwinters day. Many o' the other Cap'ns believed
we were mad to try. An' they were nah too far from the truth, if'n all
be told. All o' us were coked up to the eyeballs an heavily addict'd
t' Opium at the time, so meself an' the crew weren't thinkin' too clear.
It took us 'til late November to realise the first mate were actually
a small tree stump that beared a curious resemblence to Queen Betsy...
Anyho', we sobered up completely in time for Christmas (as close as we
could figure it), and realised the error o' our ways. Unfortunately by
then we were so lost that we had no idea o' how to get back to old
Blighty in any case. I tried retracin' our path through the rutters, but
many o' me markings resembled mermaids with extraodinarily large
endowments, and many o' tha other pages had been used to make rollies.
Takin' me best guess, we sailed on. After several months o' travellin'
in circles (I managed to find a small stash o' the good spice in the
cabin boy's cod piece), we finally came upon the straits o' Darkness.
Seemed funny enough a name for 'em though, they more resembled an
acapelligo than a strait. Fearlessly, I decided we should brave the
terrible seas on the day we had boasted, midwinters.
We 'ad stopped at one o' the larger islands to resupply an' take on
water, where we also traded with the local inhabitants for ham and pineapples,
an' I found meself a private stock o' strange death head mushrooms I
stumbled across on one o' me walks o' the island, in the hopes o' stavin'
off scurvy. Resupplied an' invigorated by the mild tropical
temperatures and accomodatin' locals, we set forth again on our bold venture on the morn o' midwinter's day.
We sailed up the coast for a few miles until the straits came into
view. I could see from a distance it were to be no easy ride. The gap
between the cliff faces were barely 3 miles wide at the openin', and
narrowed down to a mile an' a 'alf towards the centre. It would take all me
skill to make it through these treacherous currents.
I ordered extra crew aloft an' set a man with a line to call the depths
from the bowsprit. Holdin' the wheel dead straight, I aimed us dead on
to the western side o' the passage, readin' the currents that swirled
in the crystal clear waters. Everyone were silent with fear as we
closed on the strait, until one o' the crew called out
"Cap'n, your stearin' us straight into the island, hard a'port, hard
a'port!" an' started wavin' me over.
I drew me trusty pistol and shot the scurvy dog dead. Obviously overcome with fear, his unhinged mind was a distraction me ship could ne' suffer under such tryin' conditions.
The rest o' the crew buckled down then, me expert leadership brakin' the hold fear had o' their hearts, and they all set to work with a passion. They were workin' so fast that some o' them actually flung themselves over board while tryin to perform the tasks o' the ship. As we dove further into the passage, more an' more o' me crew were forced overboard as they raced to their positions. The turbulence o' the waves must have been something shockin' the way they were being flung off, but I stood firm, my muscles so focussed to the task at hand that I did ne' notice the movement o' the ocean beneath us.
Eventually, all o' the crew were overboard except first mate stump an'
midshipman Clee. Stump were as solid as a rock in the storm o' waves that surrounded us, an' Clee were strollin' around the deck with such grace
that it looked like it took no more effort than to walk the deck on the calmest o' seas.
"Buck up men!" I screamed, hopin' to raise their flaggin' spirits.
Clee raised a salute to me and yelled back
"I'm with you Cap'n, I'll not abandon ship like the others!"
"Saints be praised!" I called back, "Ye be a hardy sea dog Mr Clee!"
Unfortunately I knew that there were no way we could survive the
straits with a crew of 2 men an' a tree. Realising that I must save this
proud sailor from the horrors of drowning at sea, I waited until his back
were turned and shot him twice.
"God rest ye soul." I said quitely while Clee tried to claw his way to
the railin'.
All o' a sudden there were a mighty crash, an' I were thrown forward
into the wheel. I realised the currents had changed on me, an' the ship
were now bein' ground away on those rocky beaches. I leapt to me feet an' rushed to the jolly boat, sendin' it tumblin' into the water,
"Follow me Mr Stump" I called, and dived over the side into the boat.
Holdin' the boat still as best I could, I waited as long as I dared for
first mate Stump, eventually havin' to leave him on the sinkin' ship. Oh,
how I felt the pain o' leavin' Stump behind! You could always rely on
'im to be on deck, night or day, keepin' an eye on his fellow sailor. Not a talkative fellow ye understand, but ye could tell that he cared about the ship.
Breakin' out the oars, I put me back into it, pullin' away from those
desolate sandy shores. I could see most o' me crew still in the water,
desperately tryin' to make it to shore. But I knew it were too much for
the poor blighters, and there would be no survival for them on those veridant shores in any case. Decidin' to do me best to save them from sufferin', I started out rowin' over to the crew and slammin' them unconscious with the oar until they sank peacefully onto the sandy ocean bed.
I were exhausted by the time I had finished, the current's making it seem
that the sailors were almost trying to swim away from me. I fell back into the jolly boat and closed me eyes.
It must 'av been several day's later that I awokened, surprised that I
were still alive, an' not suffering from dehydration. I sat up an
looked around, an' to me surprise, I were in the middle o' a tropical
paradise! I must o' drifted a long way to get this far south so quickly, but
I could see that the waves had done the same to me crew an ship as well.
"Oh, me poor boys" I cried out, weepin' for me dead crew.
Carefully I made me way back to the ship an' boarded her, to find her in
surprisin' good condition. In fact there were almost no damage to her at all.
Sayin' a quick prayer, I searched the ship over.
Then came the second o' me surprises, first mate Stump were still aboard.
I shouted with glee, and rushed over to greet him, an' then a thought struck me. How did he manage to survive? It weren't possible. There were no way that a single tree stump could pilot a ship through the straits o' Darkness.
He must 'ave made a deal with the devil 'imself to survive!
"Stump!" I cried, "Did ye make a deal with the devil?", an' received no answer.
"Answer me boy, or I'll take ye silence to say that ye delt with the Prince o' lies to save ye self an' me ship!"
But still there were no answer from 'im.
"By God, it's true, ye be touched by the dark one now!"
I pulled me trusty cutlass, an' started hackin into his demon strengthened body, but to no avail. There were only one course o' action left.
I leapt back from demon Stump before he could lay his cursed hands on
me, an' ran over to one o' the barrel's o' powder that had miraculously survived the straits. Settin' alight to it, I kicked it amidships an'
dived overboard. I struggled to shore as the keg exploded, firin' the
sails and sending the demon Stump flyin' from the poop deck an' into the
hold o' the ship. The rest o' the ship caught quickly, and were soon a
blazin' inferno. I ran from the ship, eager to escape the destruction o'
me ship an the beast that used to be me first mate.
3 months I spent in that forest, never darin' to return to that dreaded
spot. Eventually I made contact with the natives and found passage on a
ship back to old Blighty. I had crossed the straits o' Darkness on
midwinters day, and bested the spawn o' the devil 'im self, but me
spirits were too low to share me tale o' darin' do for many a long day.
Arrrrr...