Originally Posted by
GM Thandiwe
Pulling his eyes from the pier behind him, the Captain looked to the open waters and watched as the mists slipped past. Moonlight, stars, and the occasional cry from the crow’s nest were soon his companions on the three-masted vessel. He couldn’t help looking back, his eyes always finding the receding island. It was always just there, just at the edge of his vision. Soon, he knew, it would fade from even his keen eyesight. But it would be there when he returned, it would be waiting.
Drumming his fingers upon the brass railing that encircled this section of the deck, he listened as one of the nightshifts began to whistle one of his favorite sea shanties. A smile rippled through his manicured, red beard, and parting his lips, he answered the tune.
Over cloud, Borthuum sailed west,
West, Lad-ees, westward, ho!
Leave the winter, in heat we are best.
Westward, lad-ees, west we go!
Borthuum, you jackjaw, you sparrow, you lark.
Ease up, Lad-ees, ease up land lo!
Pull on the trowels, the land has a spark.
Ease up, Lad-ees, landward we go!
Tend the yardarms, keep the ropes in tow.
Mind the lines, Lad-ees, heave ho!
Ash in the air, there’s a volcano below.
Heave, lad-ees, heave downward ho!
Borthum, you jackjaw, it’s storms near and far!
Lash away, Lad-ees, lash and stow!
Refit her with purpose, that ole Glaesen star!
Sail away Lad-ees, now seaward go!
With a broad grin and a final thump on the railing, the Captain retired to the forecastle of his beloved ship. In his mind, the historians were already writing his own shanty and he enjoyed the enticing thoughts of finally obtaining that fame.
~~ Thandiwe ~~