LJ Idol Season 8, Week 24: "In Your Wheelhouse"
"The Battle"
The Rock of Gibraltar loomed on the horizon as the wind kicked into our sails. Almost home, I thought to myself. It's been a long journey.
"Captain!" came the shrill cry from above. I looked up to the crow's nest and young Davies, spyglass to his eye as he pointed just off the starboard bow. "Ship ahoy!"
Grumbling to myself, I pulled out my own spyglass and homed in. The small boat was obviously moving to intercept us. Just as unmistakeable was the black flag it flew. So close, and yet... "Alright, men," I shouted. "To your battle stations!"
As the bells rang and the crew scampered into position, I walked up to the top deck and looked at my best men, including my first mate at the wheel. "You know the drill," I said to them. "Whatever happens, hold this point with your lives."
"Aye aye, sir," they said in unison.
I exited the room and looked toward the boat, the Jolly Roger now visible without visual aid. "Alright, you scalawags," I muttered under my breath as I drew my sword. "Come and get it."
***
Despite our experience in battle, we were unprepared for these pirates. Their captain was aggressive and shrewd, and their cannons were deathly precise. Soon, they had pulled aside and forced their way aboard.
My men fought valiantly, but in vain; we were soon overrun. The captain, who looked just like the caricatures in the newspapers, had me at swordpoint on the prow. "If it's plunder you seek," I said, "you'll not find much; we've already delivered our goods."
"Aargh, it's not yer plunder I'm after, though we'll take what we can find," he said in a sinister voice. "No, we're after something far more valuable."
I looked into his steely eyes. "I am of no great repute as a captain. Killing me won't send shockwaves through the Empire."
"Yer right on both counts," he said, and I cursed him under my breath for agreeing with me. "One man's death barely causes a ripple. But a British ship wrecked on the cliffs of Gibraltar? That's another story."
I looked past the captain, toward the sheltered deck above. Several pirates looked back at me, one of them deftly guiding the wheel. Taking a peek over my shoulder, all that was visible was a wall of rock.
As the captain's men left with the plunder, what little crew I had left looked at me expectantly. The words of my mentor, Old Captain Stevens, rang in my ears. If someone else is in your wheelhouse, he used to say, it's no longer your boat. Knowing that I would rather cast my fate to Mother Nature than these brutes, I gave the order that no captain wants to give, and no sailor wants to hear.
"Abandon ship!" I hollered. Delivering a swift kick to the captain's stomach, I raced for the port side and hurled myself into Poseidon's lair, praying for escape.
The Rock of Gibraltar loomed on the horizon as the wind kicked into our sails. Almost home, I thought to myself. It's been a long journey.
"Captain!" came the shrill cry from above. I looked up to the crow's nest and young Davies, spyglass to his eye as he pointed just off the starboard bow. "Ship ahoy!"
Grumbling to myself, I pulled out my own spyglass and homed in. The small boat was obviously moving to intercept us. Just as unmistakeable was the black flag it flew. So close, and yet... "Alright, men," I shouted. "To your battle stations!"
As the bells rang and the crew scampered into position, I walked up to the top deck and looked at my best men, including my first mate at the wheel. "You know the drill," I said to them. "Whatever happens, hold this point with your lives."
"Aye aye, sir," they said in unison.
I exited the room and looked toward the boat, the Jolly Roger now visible without visual aid. "Alright, you scalawags," I muttered under my breath as I drew my sword. "Come and get it."
***
Despite our experience in battle, we were unprepared for these pirates. Their captain was aggressive and shrewd, and their cannons were deathly precise. Soon, they had pulled aside and forced their way aboard.
My men fought valiantly, but in vain; we were soon overrun. The captain, who looked just like the caricatures in the newspapers, had me at swordpoint on the prow. "If it's plunder you seek," I said, "you'll not find much; we've already delivered our goods."
"Aargh, it's not yer plunder I'm after, though we'll take what we can find," he said in a sinister voice. "No, we're after something far more valuable."
I looked into his steely eyes. "I am of no great repute as a captain. Killing me won't send shockwaves through the Empire."
"Yer right on both counts," he said, and I cursed him under my breath for agreeing with me. "One man's death barely causes a ripple. But a British ship wrecked on the cliffs of Gibraltar? That's another story."
I looked past the captain, toward the sheltered deck above. Several pirates looked back at me, one of them deftly guiding the wheel. Taking a peek over my shoulder, all that was visible was a wall of rock.
As the captain's men left with the plunder, what little crew I had left looked at me expectantly. The words of my mentor, Old Captain Stevens, rang in my ears. If someone else is in your wheelhouse, he used to say, it's no longer your boat. Knowing that I would rather cast my fate to Mother Nature than these brutes, I gave the order that no captain wants to give, and no sailor wants to hear.
"Abandon ship!" I hollered. Delivering a swift kick to the captain's stomach, I raced for the port side and hurled myself into Poseidon's lair, praying for escape.