Entry 8: 1670

by D S S Atkinson

both through his hands then beyond us towards Roselyn.

  “Bastards,” he whispered. “Is that your vessel?”

  “Aye.” The captain nodded.

  “She be a beauty.”

  “‘ow did you come to be like this, matey?” I asked the male, still stricken by what he had done to my oar.

  “Mi crew mutinied against me. I know these seas as good as any man alive though I know not ‘ow many days I been floatin’ nor where I be.”

  “‘ow ‘ave you not frozen to death, lad? Floatin’ in seas cold as this?” The captain seemed genuinely concerned for the young man’s health, though it was in his nature to be so.

  “I know not.” The young man stared at us, his face barely visible in the darkness, a sorry look it was until the captain made a decision.

  “Come aboard with us for the moment, lad, we’ll get you to some dry land, do you ‘ave a name?”

  “Aye, ‘tis Cap’n Lupino, owner of She, though as I’ve been sayin’, I were turned ‘pon by mi own.” My captain glared at the male, I doubted myself that such a young man would be a captain of a vessel of any worth, however the stranger was in no position to gain anything from lying so we allowed the matter rest whilst we learned more about him.

  “Come, we shall get you some food and cover, floatin’ ‘bout alone in the midst o’ the sea ‘aint no place for a man.” Lupino nodded and I helped him aboard, he smelt terrible, the odour was like nothing I had ever smelt, his grip too nearly crushed my hand as he hauled himself up from the wreckage, I assumed it at the time to be merely the cold of the sea. “So where do you come from, cap’n?” Rike sounded so uninterested in his own question I recall being surprised the man actually answered.

  “It be, a small place in the Caribbean,” he said with hesitance, “I know little of it, for I never knew mi parents, and was away from it long before I can recall much.”

  Day light was coming along quickly, the air was still warm and the seas remained calm. Returning to the upper deck of Roselyn, the pulleys raised our small boat level with her gangway. As it came level Achilles came rushing at us, with ferocity he lunged at the stranger barking and snarling. ‘Twas only due to Captain Rike’s restraint that the beast did not rip the man apart, I had never in all my time seen the animal behave in such a manner.

  “Down with you!” The captain yelled out before laughing lightly, “welcome aboard.” Rike struggled with Achilles for some time dragging him away to his chamber for the safety of our guest, the dog was rabid, ferociously gnarling and lunging at the male as though it was desperate to end his life. The crew helped us in coming aboard and as Lupino stepped out from the small boat I noticed something most irregular about how he stood and walked. He stood hunched over and kept his arms held at the same angles as he moved, ‘twas almost as though he was not comfortable simply walking.

  “Are you alright, matey?” I queried the man, feeling somewhat disturbed by how strangely he held his posture.

  “Aye,” he replied, again with hesitance, “the cold of the sea ‘as gotten to me.” He looked wearily about the crew as we returned the small boat to the centre of the vessel’s gangways, upon securing it Rike returned from his quarters.

  The light was slowly coming about the Caribbean and pirates would soon begin coming up from beneath the orlop to begin their patrols allowing the night watchers to rest. Rike appeared excited by the discovery of the stray sea captain and was quick to familiarise him with his ship.

  “Sollertis, will you show our guest ‘bout the vessel, get ‘im some food and be sure ‘e be welcome. ‘is name be Lupino, ‘e be a cap’n so treat ‘im as one.” Rike nodded at Sollertis and the two went towards the orlop hatch.

  “What of questionin’ ‘im ‘bout the galleons, cap’n?” I spoke quietly.

  “‘is voice be none at all like that o’ their kind, lad. But worry not, I’ll be keepin’ a keen eye upon ‘im.” The captain winked at me reassuringly, so, with little else required of me and with the crew awakening from slumber I made my way down beneath the orlop to get some rest.

  It had been a bleak few days and my mind was troubled with miserable thoughts and memories, ‘twas with great pleasure I took to deep sleep in hopes I would not be disturbed by any more melancholy.

  ‘Twas the midst of the day by the time I came too, the heat and sweat of the lower decks never allowed you a long rest. As I made my way up towards the orlop it seemed awfully quiet, there were few pirates around. Forcing my way up onto Roselyn’s gangways the heat of the day and light breeze of the sea rushed all upon me, ‘twas indeed fine. A large group of the crew were gathered near the captain’s quarters on the starboard of the ship. I quickly realised they were surrounding Lupino who sat now dry in a loose white shirt and black breeches. I recall the crew’s amazement as the stray captain stimulated excitement in them, though as I approached they were broken up by Rike who ordered the men to their posts. In his hand was the sea map he had attained in Port Royal.

  “Lupino, come lad.” The man stood. He was of no significant physical stature, so too was it clear just how young he appeared, as a result I had my suspicions of the man’s words. The stray captain nodded at me, his facial hair and hair upon his head were most unusual, for they were the same length and appeared completely similar, as though it were the fur of an animal. I immediately noticed one of his eyes was a deep brown, whilst the other was a pale blue, almost as capturing as the eyes of Achilles, he too held a constantly relaxed facial expression, as though it were forcefully put upon his face. I had only once in his time amongst my crew’s company seen him appear shaken, and ‘twas in reflection for a most unusual reason. He was indeed a unique individual and the events that would go on to surround him put my mind in a state of complete confusion and wonder.

  I walked with the men along Roselyn’s gangways. Rike showed the stranger his map. “You say you know the North as good as any who ‘as ever lived, Lupino. Do you know o’ this isle?” The stranger took the map and looked over it, with a glance of amazement he focused on Rike’s island, he hesitated then slumped down upon a barrel.

  “That be the cursed isle o’ Jones ‘imself, cap’n.” Rike released a burst of husky laughter, heard often amongst the crew of Roselyn when something of a ridiculous nature amused him.

  “Your words o’ superstition shall be pullin’ no man’s leg upon this ship, lad. Come, ‘ave you seen sight o’ such a thing before?”

  “I kid you not, cap’n. I ‘ave ‘eard stories o’ this isle, ‘tis said that there be things upon it that no man could make up. ‘Tis said that the dead walk the isle, lost souls who ‘ave escaped the locker o’ Davey Jones. Where did you get this map, cap’n?” Lupino stared at Rike with a grave look upon his unmarked face.

  “‘Twas from a beggar in Port Royal lad.” Lupino appeared to think to himself briefly.

  “Did ‘e appear to ‘ave any odd features?” Rike looked at me before nodding.

  “Aye ‘is fingers ‘ad been chopped ‘alf off.”

  “And ‘e ‘ad no teeth.” I butted in. Lupino stared at the map for some time, then rested his head in his hand before he spoke up.

  “‘Tis by no chance that you should come across me upon the ocean with this map, cap’n. This isle be the land o’ mi birth. I thought I would never find a map o’ it for all the stories I ‘ave been told.”

  “You said you knew not o’ your birth ‘ome, lad.”

  “Aye,” The hesitance that the man frequently fell into put further suspicions in my mind about the reliability of his words. “Indeed I ‘ave never been amongst it. Though many a story of it I ‘ave ‘eard. An isle in the midst o’ the North Sea. A place where the shadow o’ death lingers, but can’t engulf. Where Davey Jones can’t reach. A place where lost souls walk, and beasts that you couldn’t dream o’ lurk in the fogs o’ decay.” Rike quietly laughed once more however Lupino was not amused.

  “Sounds like a fine story, one that I hope you shall be sharin’ with mi men, but this be no
laughin’ matter, mi bos’n insists that no such isle exists.”

  “‘Tis said that only the cursed and their company may come across the isle, cap’n. I ‘ave ‘eard stories o’ great treasure upon the isle, gold more valuable than any man could fathom, treasures that can keep the curse o’ Davey Jones from corruptin’ ‘im for all o’ time.” I could see that even Captain Rike was becoming enticed by stories such as these. He had never been one to believe in fables of the sea, but these mentions of such relics were clearly blinding him.

  “Come,” Lupino went on, “show me where you ‘ave come thus far, I will try to bear you in the necessary direction.”

  I accompanied Rike and Lupino to the captain’s quarters, he had Sollertis take Achilles below deck for the dog would not let up its hostility towards the stranger. The stray captain had since my nap washed himself down of the foul odour which he perspired yet still smelt most peculiar, ‘twas not the smell of a normal man.

  As the day grew on we remained in Rike’s chamber continually studying both the captain’s treasure map and the one he used for navigating the Caribbean Sea, ‘twas for many hours we made efforts to pin point our direct position upon the treasure map though to little avail. Later in the day both Sollertis and Arnold May joined us in the effort as we came to a rough conclusion upon a serious guess at