“My… what?” you ask, dumbly.
A grin parts Billy’s muttonchops. “Hammock’s whatcha sleep’n, slops whatcha wear, and the fo’c’sle—the fore-ca-stle—be where ye do it all.” He exaggerates the syllables of “forecastle,” which he had originally truncated like “folk-soul.” You nod and he adds, “Just follow the other recruits. Monkey see, monkey do.”
He shoves a stack of cloth against your chest, pushing you away. Billy has other preparations to get the ship ready to sail, and you can’t be looked after like a lost child the duration of the voyage, so you follow his advice and join the seamen down in the fo’c’sle.
It’s dark, crowded, and dank—a cellar, meant to store men. Those you’ve followed set their hammocks (which are simply a sheet of canvas big enough to lie in) mere inches from one another, for space here is at a premium. There are other sailors about, those who truly did volunteer, and they have chests set below their hammocks to store belongings. Hopefully you’ll acquire one of those soon.
You stow your hammock in the same way as the other men, then change into your “slops”—loose-fitting breeches and a jacket meant for mobility and protection at sea.
While sorting his own meager belongings, the seaman in the red skullcap who called himself Rediker gives a sing-song chant, “Oh, the times’re hard, and the wages low. Leave ’er, Johnny, leave ’er. I’ll pack my kit and go below; it’s time that we did leave ’er.”
Many of the other sailors chuckle, but it’s his companion, Barlow, who explains, saying, “We ain’t even set sail yet and your singin’ ’bout desertion?”
“I see ya met Cap’n Bullock!” one of the hired sailors cries out to a reception of guffaws.
Yet you fail to see the humor. Desertion is a serious crime, with serious consequences. Still, these men just woke up to find themselves consigned aboard a ship against their will; maybe a little humor is the best way to process this new reality?
• Idle talk will occur whether I hear it or not. I’ll stay and listen to the way the common sailors speak.
• I’m keeping my nose clean and staying out of it! Time to head back up top for some fresh air.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Meet the Press
The next morning, you’re marched out before the local magistrate and the High Court of Admiralty. It’s an open-air public event, with a small crowd gathered to spectate. You watch as several young seamen types are brought out to join you; shocked by what you see in the face of the final man. Sure enough, it’s your cousin James!
Mouth agape, you simply stare. You’re too far away to speak to him, and he must not notice you, because he only looks ahead to the magistrate. This man wears a powdered wig and, now that all have arrived, begins his remarks.
“You all stand accused of various crimes against the crown. Vagrancy. Inciting a riot. Petty theft. Assault and battery. Property damage. Each of which is a blight upon this fine city that shall not be tolerated. Though, I am inclined to leniency. This is a time of war, as you should well know, and there is a mutually beneficial course set before us. His Majesty needs good hands to sail his ships, and you lot need discipline instilled into you. Defending the realm is a matter of duty! And so, by the authority of a wartime hot press, I hereby order your sentences commuted to the HMS Hornblower, under direct supervision of Captain Charles Longwick.”
The crowd cheers and your head swims, unable to accept this new reality. You’ve just been pressed into the service of the Royal Navy! The magistrate continues his speech, but it’s hard to concentrate on the man’s words, truth be told, because it’s all you can do not to call out to your cousin. James looks more distraught than ever.
Finally, the ceremony is over and you’re led away from the court. Where are they taking you? Will you head directly to the ship? Just what is going on here?!
• Find your way to James. He’ll know what’s going on.
• Stay silent, stay in line.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Merciful
Crack! You fire the pistol and Rediker falls to the beach, dead.
The promise you made to yourself by carrying the flintlock all these weeks, finally fulfilled. Was Rediker the one responsible for Bullock’s death and—by extension—your exile on this island? One thing is certain: as a pirate captain, he’s certainly the most culpable now.
Barlow drops to Rediker’s side, blubbering with emotion and cradling the dead man in his arms. This sudden outburst after weeks in isolation is more than you can handle, and you use the other pistol to put the man out of his misery, as much for his sake as for your own.
All is silent. It’s over. A splash pulls your attention to the shore, where Dudderidge the cook and a few others launch the jolly boats out for escape. They must have seen the island aflame and decided to flee.
Watching them leave, watching the island burn, you remove the rum and uncork the fifth.
“To revenge,” you say.
Click to continue…
Monkey Business
“You shouldn’t have asked that question, Landsman,” Captain Longwick says, gravely. Then he turns playful and shouts, “Because now you’re to be the first monkey!”
“Sling the Monkey!!!” Magnus bellows.
The ship’s crew gives three hurrahs! in response, leaving you to wonder what you just got yourself into. The drunken sailors gather a good deal of rope, and two of them scramble up to the top mast and thread it through the crosstrees. The other end is tied into a bowline loop, which you get to wear about your waist. There’s no slack in the rope, but you’re not lifted off the ground, either.
Lieutenant Dalton finds a piece of chalk, and draws a circle about your feet. Then he hands you the chalk. The men tie their handkerchiefs into knots, then wet them.
“Your goal, monkey, is to mark someone with that chalk!” Lieutenant Dalton cries out. “Once you do, they’re the next monkey. And in the meantime, the men will try to baste you! You’re safe in this circle, but you must emerge to mark an opponent. Good luck!”
The officers watch from the quarterdeck, while the other seamen swing their handkerchiefs about, ready to hit you with them. You lunge forward, striking out with the piece of chalk, but the men scramble away. The rope tightens, lifts you off the deck in a swing, and brings you back to your circle. Several seamen give a wet kiss of their handkerchiefs as you fall back.
Now you’re getting it!
You run forward at an angle and launch yourself against the rope, swinging in a wide, fast arc. The seamen try to get you with their handkerchiefs, but drunkenly misjudge your speed and you manage to mark the carpenter’s mate before swinging back into the circle.
“Well done, Landsman! We’ve got a new monkey!” Midshipman Magnus yells.
So goes the game of Sling the Monkey, and you make your own handkerchief ready for basting. Round after round, hours go by in laughter and fun. Drinks are taken between games, played on into the night, which ultimately turns to song and poetry, the men jovially celebrating the night. It’s a cool evening, which feels good after working up a sweat from the games.
• I think I’ll sleep out under the stars tonight. No sign of clouds, and what a great night it was!
• After a night full of drink, I think I’ll hit my hammock. The ship appears to be spinning…
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Mouth Breather
Ummm, what are you doing? Walking around with your mouth open and flexing your tongue? Okay… that succeeds in drying your mouth out even further. Having your mouth open exposes your membranes to the air, which dries them out. Breathing through your mouth (as opposed to nasal breathing) also dries out your mouth. And by flexing and moving your tongue about, you succeed in increasing the surface area exposed to the air, thus compounding the problem.
So, basically, you do everything in your power to dry your mouth further. Maybe stop doing that? Back to finding water, yeah? The birds on this island may have taken the fish from the tidepools be
fore you arrived this morning, but if you pay attention, they can lead you to water. Mouth closed, eyes up.
What you see, when you stop to observe, are a group of birds circling inland and other large groups leaving the circle in a more-or-less direct path to some unseen destination. What does this tell you?
• The circling birds are probably just looking for dead/helpless animals. Head to their destination instead.
• Go to where the birds are circling. That’s most likely where a reserve of fresh water will be found.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Moving On
Captain Longwick shakes his head and says, “Alive, of course. Putting a pirate to the gallows is the only deterrent we have. But if it’s to be you or him, don’t go down on your sword for a bloody pirate, Ward.”
“Aye, sir,” you say, before saluting.
Rushing below decks, you find your cousin in the ship’s magazine, as expected. Word of the impending pirate battle has already flooded through the ship, and the Hornblower’s crew surges forth to action stations.
“Me old shipmates, pirates?” James says after you tell him the news.
“That’s unclear. They’ve taken the ship, that much is true. As for the crew…”
“Bullock were a right bastard, I’ll say at risk of speaking ill-o’-the dead. But Billy? Robin? Joe and Chips? Marlowe and Dudderidge… These were good men. If you’re leading the attack, coz—count me in!”
“I’m sorry, James. Captain Longwick needs you here.”
“That’s right,” Monks adds. “Call came for action stations. Get a move on, lad!”
“What can you tell me of the ship? Anything that might give a tactical advantage?”
He shakes his head in despair. “She always were a fast ship. Not prone to leak like this sieve. But the Cooper’s Pride is no match for a warship; even a frigate such as this ought to overpower her.”
Leaving Cousin James to prepare the ship’s munitions, you head up to fight. He watches you go, clearly conflicted about the battle to come.
* * *
The drums beat for war as the Hornblower sails towards the pirate ship. The plan, insofar as you’ve been made aware of it, is to pin the Cooper’s Pride up against the coast, without letting them slip through an inlet and escape into the shallows. Once they realize the only way to flee is over the open seas, you’ll cut off the smaller ship, board her, and take the pirates with flintlocks and steel.
The cannons boom, making what could be considered a warning shot—but more likely is meant to shape the fleeing ship’s course. It works, and the Cooper’s Pride alters its course to flee further along the coast.
The Hornblower follows the pirate ship along the convex bend of the coast, until another ship is revealed from around the curve. A Spanish Man-o’-War, not too different from the last you’ve seen. She’s moored in this hidden inlet, and the pirate ship dares not sail into her. This is an unexpected tactical wildcard—neither ship is allied with the Dons.
“Maintain course,” Captain Longwick orders, belying nothing.
“Ready muskets,” you say.
The boarding party does just that, preparing for a fight. The pirates, realizing they’re caught between two enemies, turn to the open sea just as Longwick had planned. Did he know the Spanish were taking roost here, or was this an unexpected boon?
Knowing they’ve been caught, the Cooper’s Pride lets out a broadside, peppering the Hornblower with cannon fire and resultant splinters. Then the order comes to attack at will.
“FIRE!!!” you order, and the muskets discharge in unison. Not waiting for a reload, you draw your saber and shout, “Charge!”
The boarding party drops muskets and instead launches grappling hooks and walkways across the open sea, bridging the two ships. It’s a ferocious and bloody battle from the start. The pirates are brutal fighters, but numbers are on your side. The sailors rush against the gilded barbarians, taking the others by sheer overwhelming force.
It’s not as noble a pursuit as you might’ve imagined. No one is offering clever barbs and retorts while clashing cutlasses. Rather, men stab each other between the ribs and down along the spine when the opponents least expect it. The idea is to inflict as much damage as possible until the pirate captain surrenders.
That’s when you spot him. He has a red skullcap, a pierced eyebrow, and fire in his eyes. He’s not distinguishable from the rest of the crew, but you recognize a fellow leader of men when you see one. They fight in a circle radiating out from this man, keeping their trust in his leadership, ready for whatever orders he may give.
“Cap’n Rediker, look out!” a mustachioed man shouts as you approach.
“Surrender now, or your men all perish!” you call back.
The pirate captain, rather than turning to cross swords with you, simply removes one of his four flintlock pistols with his other hand, draws back the hammer and dispatches you with all the attention he would give to putting down a rabid dog.
“No!” comes the fateful cry, just as cousin James leaps and takes the bullet for you. It was your voice shouting out, for your cousin wasn’t even supposed to be in the boarding party. Damnable fool!
Captain Rediker doesn’t give you a second look as you rush to James’s side. It’s another pirate, in fact, the man who warned the captain, who comes to finish you off. Battering the man’s sword away with renewed vigor, you run him through with the very next swipe of your own blade.
“Barlow!” the pirate captain cries out.
Now he’s ready to face you. Or, so you thought. Instead, Captain Rediker dashes back and lights a fuse—the long tendril of which ignites and runs down below decks. Without another thought, you dash over, leap and slam your cutlass down upon the fuse; cutting the head off this fiery serpent just before it would retreat below decks.
Rolling to your side, you barely evade the cleave Rediker meant to stove your skull in with. His blade sinks into the wooden planks of the ship, and you offer a savage kick at the man while he tries to yank it back.
Rediker reclaims his saber, but stumbles back, allowing you time to regain your footing.
“Surrender!” you growl, sword pointed with menace.
The man takes a swing at you, and you parry the attack, returning with a slice across his forearm. He grunts in pain and backs away.
“Surrender!” you call again.
Now Rediker goes for a second pistol and you leap into action, bringing down the blade upon his wrist with an overhead strike. The man is disarmed—literally.
“Surrender!” you say for the third time.
“I yield!” the pirate whimpers.
Click to continue…
Murderous Pirate
“It’s true! I killed Bullock! One slain to save many! The captain would’ve gotten us all killed before we ever saw English soil again—who among you hadn’t wished him dead? Only you lacked the courage of your convictions!” The words flow out theatrically, as if playing a role, like you’d do with your cousins each summer—Odysseus or Julius Caesar or Macbeth—only now, actor and role become one.
“That weren’t the plan,” Barlow mutters before Rediker elbows him into silence.
“Why you’re… you’re…” Chips stammers. “You’re nothing more’n a bloody pirate!”
“So be it!” Rediker cries, taking up a role of his own. “This is an act-o’-true piracy, a mutiny for the greater good-o’-all aboard.”
Robin takes an aggressive step towards you, but Billy puts a hand on the hulking man’s shoulder to keep him back. Rediker comes to stand next to you, his mate Barlow follows, and the older seaman Marlowe joins the pair at your side.
“Now what, Saltboots?” Billy asks. “Ye killed Bullock, what of the rest-o’-us? Are the four-o’-ye t’force us into a life-o’-piracy? I’ve had me a lifetime before the mast as a good, honest sailor.”
“Honest sailor? Just look at ya, man! ’Tis clear ye eat that which would befit two men,” Rediker chuffs.
“Billy should be the new cap’n, by law,” Joe speaks up.
“That’s right, by law!” Chips agrees.
“By law—ha! Only another tyrant like Bullock invokes such a defense; these merchants rob the poor under the protection of law. The merchant vilifies the freebooter, for a pirate is truly his better, as he plunders only under the protection of his own courage! Chips, these timbers upon which we stand, ya said they hail from Sherwood, did ye not? We could be a band-o’-merry men! Take from the rich t’give to the poor, and there ain’t no poorer than a poor ’ole seaman!”
“Heed not this silver tongue, men,” Billy says. “He’d seek to jaw us down, when we know what’s right!”
The crew begins yelling in a great confabulation, ready to come to blows. It’s clear the sailors are divided, and they split themselves in the literal sense. Butch, the surgeon, comes to stand by Rediker while Dudderidge, the cook, folds his arms behind Billy.
Despite this, you can’t help but notice, of the fifteen men before you—most look your way for guidance. You’ve taken credit for this mutiny, after all. It’s likely you could sway the vote either way.
• Publicly endorse Rediker as captain. He has the right of it. This isn’t admiralty law, this is natural law. The law of the jungle. Divine right, proving that all men are equal. Rediker is my man.
• Publicly endorse Billy as captain. By law, Billy should be captain. He knows the score now—how we deal with captains who betray the trust of their crew—and should be a fair leader accordingly.
• Put yourself forward as captain. If you’ve taken credit for the mutiny already, then why not lead the ship? With the hands looking your way for guidance, you could diffuse this tension and rise to the top.
MAROONED: Will YOU Endure Treachery and Survival on the High Seas? (Click Your Poison) Page 22
