Lost at Sea
Captain's Log
Captain’s Log,
My name is Hall. I am twenty-six.
My first day as Captain is over and I’ve retired to my quarters to officially write my first log. Two days ago, former Captain Rochand was killed in a spat with the East India Trading Co. They’re bastards, but in the end, they really did help me out. Thanks to them, I’m now the captain of the fastest ship roaming the Caribbean not a part of the East India Trading Co. or the King’s Royal Navy. Pardon the Black Pearl, if you will.
After Rochand’s death, and his traditional funeral at sea; I, as his first mate, took over as Captain. But it was a bloody battle. As you may or may not know, pirate ships are run by a democracy, with just a dash of tyranny. And as we gathered to vote, the men were growing more and more restless with the idea of me as Captain.
I have proven myself in battle countless times, I am a better swordsman than any man I know, I’m cunning, I’m intelligent, I have a sharp wit, I love the sea more than anything else, and I’m a tad bit mad.
I am the perfect ideal of a pirate Captain.
And yet they doubt me, because I’m a woman.
Anan was the worst. Anan is a frighteningly tall and strong African who was brought to the Americas by slave trade. We held a mutual hatred for each other, but while he constantly bashed me, I never retorted. I’ve seen what he can do. It’s horrible, even for a pirate.
Anyway, he went on about how I was unfit to lead, how I shouldn’t be on the ship in the first place. I held my tongue as he blatantly insulted me, wanting to scream what we all were thinking: he was as dumb as a brick. All brawn, no brain.
It took two days of voting before I took action. It was a split tie between me and Anan. I knew I would be a better captain and I knew everyone wanted to vote for me, but some were too intimidated to vote against Anan.
That night, I snuck out of the hold and left behind the combined smell of body odor and whiskey I’ve grown so accustomed to.
My bare feet padded across the wooden deck. I couldn’t make any noise, but at the same time – I loved walking on a ship with no shoes.
I spotted him, hardly looking for danger. I held back a snort. No one did their jobs on pirate ships. I slowly pulled the dagger from my belt and immediately missed the feel of cool metal on my skin.
I wrapped one arm around his waist and the other went up to quickly slit his throat. No screams. No pleads for help. The way I like it.
His heavy body sagged and I dragged him to the rail. I wiped the blade of my knife on his clothes and shoved it back into my belt. Then I rolled the body overboard.
I went back to the hold and climbed into my hammock. I would be captain by morning.
And I was. When we all arrived to vote, Anan was confused. I innocently explained that poor Mr. John must have been too drunk and fallen into Davy Jones’s Locker while on watch duty.
We voted, and with Anan one man down, I became what I am now.
Hall, Captain of The Widower.
Isn’t it brilliant?
My name is Hall. I am twenty-six.
My first day as Captain is over and I’ve retired to my quarters to officially write my first log. Two days ago, former Captain Rochand was killed in a spat with the East India Trading Co. They’re bastards, but in the end, they really did help me out. Thanks to them, I’m now the captain of the fastest ship roaming the Caribbean not a part of the East India Trading Co. or the King’s Royal Navy. Pardon the Black Pearl, if you will.
After Rochand’s death, and his traditional funeral at sea; I, as his first mate, took over as Captain. But it was a bloody battle. As you may or may not know, pirate ships are run by a democracy, with just a dash of tyranny. And as we gathered to vote, the men were growing more and more restless with the idea of me as Captain.
I have proven myself in battle countless times, I am a better swordsman than any man I know, I’m cunning, I’m intelligent, I have a sharp wit, I love the sea more than anything else, and I’m a tad bit mad.
I am the perfect ideal of a pirate Captain.
And yet they doubt me, because I’m a woman.
Anan was the worst. Anan is a frighteningly tall and strong African who was brought to the Americas by slave trade. We held a mutual hatred for each other, but while he constantly bashed me, I never retorted. I’ve seen what he can do. It’s horrible, even for a pirate.
Anyway, he went on about how I was unfit to lead, how I shouldn’t be on the ship in the first place. I held my tongue as he blatantly insulted me, wanting to scream what we all were thinking: he was as dumb as a brick. All brawn, no brain.
It took two days of voting before I took action. It was a split tie between me and Anan. I knew I would be a better captain and I knew everyone wanted to vote for me, but some were too intimidated to vote against Anan.
That night, I snuck out of the hold and left behind the combined smell of body odor and whiskey I’ve grown so accustomed to.
My bare feet padded across the wooden deck. I couldn’t make any noise, but at the same time – I loved walking on a ship with no shoes.
I spotted him, hardly looking for danger. I held back a snort. No one did their jobs on pirate ships. I slowly pulled the dagger from my belt and immediately missed the feel of cool metal on my skin.
I wrapped one arm around his waist and the other went up to quickly slit his throat. No screams. No pleads for help. The way I like it.
His heavy body sagged and I dragged him to the rail. I wiped the blade of my knife on his clothes and shoved it back into my belt. Then I rolled the body overboard.
I went back to the hold and climbed into my hammock. I would be captain by morning.
And I was. When we all arrived to vote, Anan was confused. I innocently explained that poor Mr. John must have been too drunk and fallen into Davy Jones’s Locker while on watch duty.
We voted, and with Anan one man down, I became what I am now.
Hall, Captain of The Widower.
Isn’t it brilliant?
♠ ♠ ♠
Hello all. You all have midlipsters to thank for this update. I had decided not to, I really needed to focus on updating some other stories that are way overdue, but that wonderful comment made me so unimaginably happy.I changed her name to Camille, if anyone noticed that. I just liked it better.
If anyone is confused, Hall is Camille. -hal is the ancient greek prefix for sea and salt, so I felt it appropriate. You'll find out later why she calls herself Hall instead of Camille.
I changed the ships name to The Widower. I think it sounds super bad ass.
I am blown away. I have two chapters and ten subscribers??? That makes me happy. Thank you all. But because of the large amount of people following, I require at least one comment. Just one. I don't ask for much (though I'd still appreciate if you gave me more than one comment).
I'm starting a Fred Weasley FanFic. It's called And When The Dust Settles. Look for it if you're interested (I haven't posted it yet).
I need to stop making new stories. You know how some women keep having kids even though they can't take care of them? That's me. I keep making stories but I can't update them all.
Anyway, if you've read all this, you're a saint. I think the Author's note is as long as the chapter.