Ocean Ink
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By day she was black and white, as far as the eye could see; by night she took on the colors of the sky. The sun shone upon her deckhead and painted her mast and spars with a yellow light that made them look like a flock of birds in flight.
Her sails caught the wind at dawn, and by the time it had passed over them, they were tinged in reds and purples from the setting sun. She seemed to fly across the sea and land on a new continent every day, for the captain’s course changed more often than the weather changes.
They sailed up along the western coast, then down towards the south and up again towards the east—the captain would change his mind after breakfast each morning whether to go north or south, depending on how he felt when he awoke and who he happened to share the bed with, or what the weather looked like when he woke up. Sometimes there wasn’t much difference between the north and south anyway, so why worry about it?
The men didn’t complain. They all knew their place aboard this ship—and none of them thought it a bad one. It wasn’t hard work, even when they weren’t sailing. There was always some job to be done: cleaning, repairs, painting, carving, or making something out of nothing.
Some men carved figures from wood that were sold at the ports they visited, most just made things to keep themselves busy while others slept. Most had a family somewhere else, but they stayed with this ship for years because there wasn’t much choice.
If you wanted to stay with your own kind, you had to take whatever ship came around the corner, and if you stayed too long, someone might notice that you hadn’t got anywhere. This ship was different.
She was an island unto herself, with the captain at its heart and the crew surrounding him like a flock of sheep. It might not have been a very nice place, but the captain’s ways were fair enough, and it certainly beats being a slave.
It wasn’t all good news, however. The ship did get attacked quite often. The pirates usually gave up when they saw how big she was—they couldn’t risk attacking her, for fear of being taken on by a bigger ship.
“What do we do if we’re boarded?” asked one of the men. “We can’t fight them off, right?”
“You know that, don’t you?” said another man. “And anyway, they’ve only got spears and swords, so they’ll run away before anything else.”
“So what’s to be done?” said the first man again. He had already heard this answer many times before, but no one ever answered his question.
“Just wait here,” said a third voice. Everyone turned to look at a small man whose arms were covered in tattoos from head to toe. “If anyone comes, I’ll come out, shout a warning and kill them before they get near. Don’t worry, we won’t let anybody board us now. That’s my job—to protect the ship.”
Nobody liked the way these words sounded, though nobody dared say as much. The small man had always seemed to be the captain’s favorite—he never had any real duties to do except guard the ship, which he did very well indeed. And since everyone liked him better than anyone else, they didn’t dare to suggest anything against him. Besides, he never spoke above a whisper anyway.
When night fell, the captain would give his orders to all the men, then disappear below decks with the cook and drink his fill of wine and brandy until the wee small hours of the morning.
The nights were always the same. They started with a great feast in the mess area; there’d always be plenty left over from lunch, and it was served up alongside the dinner menu for those who fancied eating in the evening.
After this feast, the men were allowed to sleep as long as they liked—it was part of the deal; they could wake whenever they liked the following morning, but if they slept past dawn, there was hell to pay. Then they had to clean the galley and the mess area while the captain was busy with other matters.
When he’d finished doing whatever it was, he’d come up for a few minutes to see how they were getting along, make sure they weren’t slacking off or causing trouble, then he’d go back down below decks with the cook and get himself drunk again. All in all, these were good nights—not a dull moment to be had, and everyone got a decent amount of sleep afterward.
On the fourth day out, the pirate ship spotted them from a distance and changed course toward them.
“He wants to play,” said the first mate without even looking up from his work.
The rest of the crew stood still. A few of them looked at the first mate; they hadn’t seen him smile in many months. Others stared at the approaching vessel—they knew that they didn’t stand a chance if they tried to fight off the pirates. They’d never managed to take on this ship, and they wouldn’t even think of trying today.
“All right,” said the first mate at last. “I’ll be there.”
No one paid any attention to him; all eyes were fixed on the pirate ship, which loomed larger and larger in the afternoon sun.
As the two vessels drew closer and closer together, it became clear that their pursuers were heading straight for the big ship’s stern—the prow was hidden from view behind a thick line of tall reeds that grew there. The crew gathered around the first mate and waited patiently as he went to speak to the captain about it. When he returned, he gave an order:
“Get a crew ready—we’re going to take on this pirate ship! It doesn’t matter if we have to sink the other ship—just get rid of her!”
At his command, some of the crew began shouting out orders. Others ran around preparing things, while the others took a place in the bow of the ship. Soon enough a gangplank had been set up and the captain came out onto it. The rest of the crew followed him, and the pirate ship drew alongside him.
There was no time to waste; the pirate ship had been following them for too long. The captain jumped off his ship and grabbed hold of the pirate ship’s railing as he swung across to his opponent. He landed on deck, then made straight for the man who was steering the other vessel.
“Give me back my ship!” shouted the captain. “I want my ship back.”
“Why should I?” the man said in a voice that sounded like a growl.
The pirate captain was a huge man dressed in black clothes and a black hat with a wide-brimmed design. His face was covered in dark stubble, and his hair was long and tied into a ponytail.
“You must know that you can’t beat me,” said the first mate. “My ship is bigger and stronger than yours; our crew is more experienced sailors—and your crew will never agree to join us! You know perfectly well what’ll happen if you try to attack my ship!”
“Then why don’t you surrender? I could kill every one of you if I wanted to.”
The first mate laughed at him.
“What good would that do? The ship belongs to me—I’ll just take it back, and then we can sail away together!”
The pirate captain grinned cruelly.
“Do what you like—I won’t stop you!”
With that, he turned and walked back towards his ship. He climbed up the ladder and disappeared into his cabin without another word being said. As soon as he did, the first mate shouted out:
“Let’s go!”
Everyone aboard the pirate ship stopped what they were doing and hurried forward. They pushed past each other as they headed for the main mast. A rope was thrown down and they climbed up until they reached the top.
At this point, most of them held tightly onto the rope—but some simply let go and fell to their deaths. Their bodies smashed against the side of the pirate ship, then slid off into the water.
The first mate, however, was standing by the rigging above them. He had pulled himself up there using a grappling hook and was waiting for those who couldn’t use the rope. He watched as they all clambered over the top of the railing and dropped down to land on the deck below.
They scattered themselves across the deck and began looking for weapons, but most of them had nothing more than their bare hands. Some of them looked at their leader, but he just shook his head.
“We need something a bit more powerful to fight with,” he muttered. “Something that can pierce through metal armor, or at least cut flesh.”
His crew looked at him, unsure of what he meant. One of them suggested that he might find a knife that could help, so he sent a group of men to search the ship’s stores for weapons. After a while, they came back carrying a great number of swords.
“Here they are!” cried one of the men as he handed them out. The first mate nodded and put his own sword down. He took the nearest sword and started swinging it, testing its weight as he searched for its weakness. But it seemed sturdy enough.
Then a second sword landed at his feet; he picked it up and continued to examine it, trying to work out how it differed from the first sword he’d been given. Eventually, he gave up, tossed it aside, and took the one he was holding instead.
There was a sudden loud bang and a cloud of dust billowed up into the air where it hung in thick grey wisps. The pirates looked at each other uneasily as they tried to see what was happening—then their leader yelled out:
“That’s enough! That’s not the sort of noise we’re after!”
He stood up and pointed at the man who had made the noise.
“You! Come here!”
The man walked over to him, fear showing on his face.
“Don’t you dare make a sound again, or I’ll have you flogged!”
“But sir—”
“Silence!” roared the captain, cutting him off mid-sentence.
He took a step towards his prisoner, then paused and glanced at the weapon in his hand. It wasn’t quite the kind of thing he had been hoping for. Still, it would do. He swung it downwards with full force, aiming for the man’s throat—but he suddenly stopped dead when he realized that the man was standing right next to a barrel full of nails.
The first mate watched in amazement as the man’s neck was split open and blood spurted out. The man fell to his knees, then collapsed onto his back, his body writhing around as it tried to stop the pain.
All of a sudden, another barrel appeared behind the captain. This time it contained a large quantity of gunpowder, which he flung straight at him. The explosion blew him backward—the first mate saw him fall flat onto the deck and heard a sickening crunch as his skull cracked against the wood.
He lay there for a moment, before rolling over slowly as he felt the life draining from his body. His eyes stared lifelessly upwards at the sky, his tongue hanging out and his mouth gaping wide as he gasped for breath.
A short distance away, the pirates had formed a circle. The first mate watched as they raised their weapons high and prepared themselves to attack. There were shouts of glee as they prepared to kill the remaining crewmen.
Then he turned and ran as fast as he could, back towards his own ship. Once there, he quickly climbed onto the rigging and jumped to the deck, where he grabbed his sword and started running toward the front of the ship.
There was chaos everywhere; all of the crew had been killed by now. Most of them had managed to escape back to their vessel—but many of them had died along the way. Those who hadn’t were either fighting for their lives or lying wounded on the ground.
The first mate ran through the ship, slashing down with his sword. The few men he encountered were no match for him. He was like a beast possessed; every blow dealt left a trail of blood behind him as he cut through his enemies.
The men fled in terror and hid in any corner they could find, even if it meant hiding inside barrels. A man ran past him and disappeared from sight. The first mate looked up, confused, but he didn’t have time to worry about it as he continued his relentless pursuit.
Finally, he reached the stern of the ship. As he did so, he noticed that the last surviving pirate ship was now moving rapidly towards his vessel. He looked at the men still on board, ready to attack once he’d dealt with the enemy. They seemed to be having difficulty getting their bearings since they were all pointing in different directions.
The first mate grinned. It wouldn’t matter if they attacked from the rear or the front—he would simply cut them to pieces anyway. He took one more glance across at the other ship and realized that it was already too late. Its sails had been taken down and it was slowing down as its crew prepared to surrender.
He smiled as the pirates boarded their ship. They stood in stunned silence for a moment—then one of them started yelling:
“Kill ’em all!”
The men cheered as they started stabbing their blades into anyone they met—the only sound that could be heard anywhere on the deck was that of people dying horribly.
The first mate ran to the side of the ship as the pirates rushed forwards, intent on killing everyone. He pulled a knife from his boot and waited patiently until the first wave of pirates came within reach. Without giving them a chance to react, he ran up to one of them and plunged the knife deep into his chest.
The man collapsed instantly, blood spraying out of his chest as he fell to his knees. He stared at the man’s body, unable to comprehend how he had just lost his life.
The first mate then moved towards another man and repeated the same process. Another man fell, this time gasping for breath as blood leaked from his wounds. Then, suddenly, one of the pirates turned away. He couldn’t see anything; his vision was obscured by smoke and flames. His heart froze as he realized what was happening—the ship was sinking.
He ran to the nearest hatch and opened it, looking down at the raging fire below. All of a sudden, one of his comrades began screaming for help, trying to climb up onto the deck as he held his leg in agony. Before long, he fell to the floor as the ship tilted further and further downwards.
A second later, two more of his men were screaming and falling to the floor next to him, one clutching his throat while the other tried desperately to hold onto the railing above.
With a heavy heart, the first mate looked around one last time. His eyes filled with tears when he spotted Captain Bligh—a look of surprise spread across his face when he recognized him as a fellow officer. He called out for him to come forward and save himself, but the captain ignored him.
Then his men were engulfed by the flames; one by one, their bodies melted before his eyes as they plummeted to the deck below. The first mate stared in horror as Bligh’s head was severed from his body as he fell down onto the wooden planks. The body hit the floor with a loud thud; the captain’s head bounced several times before it finally lay still and silent.
The End