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[January 22, 1723 Lower Deck of the Frigate Silverton, Captain’s chartroom]
The captain sat at the long table in the center of the chartroom. His eyes were transfixed upon the crumpled message which Boy Tipper had just brought in from the messenger pigeon 'Groober'.
“It’s serious aint it Keptin?” Tipper asked as he held the bird tightly.
“Aye Laddie…it’s serioos.” The captain answered sternly as he packed his pipe full of ‘Mac Baron’*, tamped it down and lit it. Taking several short drags, the bowl lit-up in a red glow. Finally, he turned to the boy, “Ye rin up an' git Warrant Officer Kerrislravenhill, Cockpit Officer Ssg-community an' Standin' Officer Handofzara. Ahh wants aw thee doon haur in fife minutes, understuid?”
“Aye Sairrr! Five minutes!” Tipper responded quickly with a short salute as he dashed off out of the room with Groober under one arm.
[Main Deck…]
“Sairrrs! Sairrrs!” Tipper yelled as he ran up from the galley stairs, tripping on a rope coil and falling face first on the planks, Groober fluttering off high up into the rigging!
“Tipper?! Are you alright?!” Kerrislravenhill asked as she hurried down from the bridge and knelt beside him, “What’s got you all riled-up so boy?”
“I’m alright!” Tipper said as he sat up, dusting off his jacket, “It’s the Keptin Sairrr! He wants to see you and Officers Ssg-community and Handofzara in the chartroom right away!”
“Right away?”
“Aye, in five minutes he said!”
Kerrislravenhill stood up and cupped her hands towards the forecastle, “Officers Ssg and Handofzara! Main deck! Now!”
[Down below…chartroom…]
The three officers sat silently on the opposite side of the table from the captain, their bodies tense. The captain took a long drag on his pipe, letting out a huge plume of blue smoke in the shape of a ship that floated across the table and dissipated into the dimly lit room.
In front of him was a large colorful chart and a half-crumpled message spread out on top of it. Looking at each of them one by one he finally spoke…
“Ahh’ve jist received an urgent message froms Admiral Stoic…” He said as he smoothed out the chart with his free hand, “We’re in th' wey o’ hoistin’ anchur fur th' Tasman Brine.”
“The Tasman Sea?! Why that’s on the others side of Africa!” Kerrislravenhill exclaimed in surprise.
“Aye it is, an' a most radge place!”
Handofzara glanced at Ssg-community a moment in surprise before looking down at the chart.
“An’ ‘att’s nae aw…a Scottish Brig* has rin agroond oan a rocky reef alang th' western coest o’ th' islain o’ Tansania. She was aff froms th' port o' Perth, carryin' thirty thoosain oonces o’ silver coin in 'er belly an' twenty-six men…” The captain continued in a sober tone, “Some may awreddy be deid. Hostiles froms th' islain hav tried twice tae board 'er, an' hav bin forced back. There’s bluid in th' water muckers, an' th' Admiral wants those men rescued an' th' silvers retrieved!”
The eyes of all three officers widened quickly…
“But Sairrr, with all due respect, we’re sitting two hundred miles off the coast of Namibia as we speak!” Kerrislravenhill replied with a worried look.
“Ahh knows it, an' th' Admiral knows it tay...”
“Sairrr, are there no ships closer to Tansania that could respond?” Handofzara asked anxiously as he leaned forward slightly.
“Nane. An' thaur's thes...”
Officer Ssg swallowed hard as she glanced at Kerrislravenhill…
“Th' fockin' Franks hav heard th' bark an' there’s a frigate sailin' west, oot o’ French Polynesia as we spick!” The captain said flatly, “We’ve got tae git thaur afair those blokes dae ur those men…ain th' silvers… ur tint!”
“Bloody hell…” Kerrislravenhill exclaimed under her breath.
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References: - Pictures from: www.freeimages.com, www.pexels.com, pixabay.com, Hive.blog, Google maps an' Wikipedia. Data also sometimes finely crafted reit from th' author's extensiff personal experience an' such.
*Mac Baron - pipe tobacco
*Brig - two-masted, square-rigged ship with an additional gaff sail on the mainmast