Johnathan K

Pirate of the first age

Log 24

Storm. Boat with holes. Water flooding in. Have to get buckets. Sinking. Can’t breathe. And then… orange sand? My eyes open to a dim light. My head is pounding like a thunderstorm and my wrist is bent weirdly beneath me. Wood. Why am I on wood? Is this heaven? Did I die? My eyes slowly start to take in my surroundings. My ship. I’m on my ship! But… where am I? Suddenly I see bodies stirring around me. Someone I know came over and lifted me up. Then I recognized who it was. “Nate!” I tried to shout but all that came out was a croak. He patted my back as I began to hack and cough. This went on for a while as sea water and sand do not feel good in the lungs. When I finally recovered, I looked around. Most of my crew had gotten up, but a few were missing. I didn’t know how my hat was still on my head, but I took it off in a moment of silence for the ones we had lost. But being a pirate, that moment did not last long. “No honor among thieves,” I thought solemnly. The fog that seemed to cover my head disappeared slowly. With that, the dull ache in my wrist came pounding back in a throb. Nate helped me set it the best he could, but that wouldn’t stop the pain. I grumbled to myself, frustrated with my horrible luck. My ship suddenly became a swarming ant hill as my men collected everything of value. I stood on the very precipitous of my ship, my spy glass roving over the rough sand dunes. I put it down sighing. With no sense of direction and most of my provisions lost, I had no idea how we would survive in this waist land. My boots clacked over the wooden planks, my hands ran over the seaworn wood. How I would hate to leave her here. To rot. The very thought made me cringe. But I knew someday I would see her again. Her sail would raise on the ocean breeze. Her prow would push mightily forward, spraying foam all around…

Yes, someday.