Where the Sea Ends

The sea clashes against the hull of the ship, sails whip violently in the gale-force crosswind, the crew takes cover from the wooden shrapnel as the barrage of cannon fire rips their vessel to splinters.

It wasn’t but a day earlier when the men were singing together with silver mugs of ale held high. A celebration of a recently pillaged ship with cargo only the most imaginative man of the sea could have mustered. The crew hung the stolen lot of fine jewelry from their necks and swung their new steins in the air to drunken shanties, jeweled rings glisten in the light as the men swayed from side to side. They laugh, bearing broken teeth and howl of the Red Coat cowards who gave up their riches so easily. Although the celebration felt like it would last forever, it wasn’t but a few hours later their laughter was swiftly cut short by cannon fire in the distance. Unprepared and whiskey-lipped, the men in the bowels of the ship drop silent, waiting for the call from the crow’s nest.

“Ships on the horizon!” Garvey from the crow’s nest calls out. “Ships on the horizon!”

The men did not wait for the second callout before dropping their pristine tankards and jewels to the ground and rushing to the upper deck. The ship was a naval ship, albeit ex-naval ship, with the name “Queen Mary’s Bounty” scratched out on the ship’s placard and “Draggle Tail” scrawled in above it.

“All hands on deck!” Chief mate Owens calls out on the captains’ behalf. “Captain! Orders!” He calls out.

Captain Greywacke, standing tall with a fine blue coat and freshly shined boots, stood off to the side of the deck, waiting and watching through a telescope. He was motionless as if his feet were affixed to the ship.

“Captain. Orders?” Owens asked.

“Mr. Owens.” The captain said dropping the telescope from his eye and collapsing it between calloused hands.

“Yes. Captain?”

“It seems we have caught the interest of the Queen’s Navy.” The captain said loud enough for the crew to hear.

“Possibly upset over their lost silverware, sir.” Owen Jokes. The crew chuckled with salt choked throats.

“What say you, boy?” The captain calls out to the new recruit.

Charles, a young man no older than fourteen years old, held a powder keg between his arms, stood with the other bastards of the Draggle Tail awaiting the captain to give his orders.

“Me, sir?” Charles asked, repositioning the powder keg in his arms.

“Yes. What say you? Fight or flee?” The captain reiterated.

To Charles, the captain’s eyes did not just see Charles, but saw through him. “Sir, if t’were my ship, sir, I would drop sails and let them give chase. They likely have twice the canons and three times the crew.” Charles said with a slight quiver to his voice as he shoved his fear deep within.

Captain Greywacke stepped closer to the boy. “Are you a coward, Charles?”

“No sir. We fight like men and die like kings. We don’t fight the dogs of the queen over riches stolen from the poor.” 

The captain smirked at the boy before shouting to the crew, “You heard him, men. Tonight, we let them give chase. Let’s see how fast the dogs can run.”

The men howled and barked at each other, but everyone moved at once like a ballet of salt and sweat, grabbing ropes, and lowering the sails. Nobody questioned the captain, nobody complained. This is the life of a pirate, and everyone knew their place.

“If the wind holds true, we should outpace them by nightfall. We head East with the wind to our backs” Captain Graywacke explains to Chief mate Owens

“Yes, sir. If I may be blunt, sir?” Chief mate Owens asked.

“Speak as you are.”

“You are a fine captain, sir…” 

“Flattery is echoed on the tongues of the dead… Speak.” The captain interrupts.

“I am not questioning you, sir. Never will. As heading North would surely slow us, but East, sir?” Owens treaded lightly.

Captain Graywacke knew what Owens was hinting at. The captain’s gut knotted when Owens spoke, but a small sense of pride overcame him knowing his first mate’s intuition mirrored his own.

The naval ships were merely a silhouette in the west, but to the east, the skies were shrouded in darkness.

“West, North and South, we fight, but I do not like our odds. If I were a gambling man, Owens, I would never bet against a man’s greed or against the sea. As of now, it seems this is the only two hands we have. Where are you placing your bets, Owens?”

“With you, sir, as always.” Owens sounded slightly ashamed of himself, but trust was earned, and Owens knew this.

“We make our way East.” Owens barks out orders to the crew. “Wind at our backs and the sea under foot. We don’t stop until they give up! Do you hear me?” The crew replies in one loud, unison yell.

“Boy.” Captain Graywacke grabs Charles’ attention, still holding the powder keg in his arms.

“Yes, Captain?” Charles stood upright in attention. The weight of the powder keg made his arms start to shake, but he dared not show his weakness on this ship.

“You’ll make a fine captain one day.” The captain said.

 Charles could not contain his smile as it neared toothy. “Thank you, sir.” Charles said, and without hesitation, knew what he needed to do, running into the bowels of the ship with powder keg in arms and a renewed strength.

Captain Greywacke looked back at the approaching ships, then to the skies in the East. The captain knew that tonight, one way or the other, they would all be kings.

This is the intro to the novella that’s currently underway. “Where the Sea Ends” is a small collection of stories with pirates, greed, and their realization of where the sea ends…

…at the bottom