The wind was expressive. It swivelled the Black Maria like a weightless wood log across the dark seas. Lightning sunk its claws through the gloomy clouds, like vanishing white veins on black skin. The erupting cry of thunder was definitely a sound of warning. Captain Tomas and his crew were in unfriendly waters. The tides danced ferociously to the tune of the wind.
The sky must be mourning their imminent demise with overwhelming tears of rain, the Captain thought while he wrestled with his ship's wheel. His hands were firmly on its handles, turning the vessel through the tides. The breeze captured his long dark hair; he was soaked from his beard down to his boots. His blue eyes stared into the endless waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The resolute look on his face stressed his wrinkles.
The storm appeared out of nowhere, and his crew had no time to prepare for it. His dragon pendant shored up his faith in their survival, and it had seen him through one too many difficult times. He grabbed it with one hand for a brief moment as though he was praying for a miracle. It was his lucky charm, a relic from his adventures across the China Sea.
"Bring down the sails!" the Captain yelled at his first mate, Afonso Martim, who battled with the wind on deck. The sailors grabbed onto anything they saw fit to keep them from being tossed overboard by the ferocious storm. Afonso gathered courage in the face of imminent destruction. Their Captain was fighting the storm without hesitation at the helm. He was the first mate of the ship. The least he could do was match his leader's conviction with relentless efforts of his own. Water flushed down the barren scalps of his head without hindrance. His sight was riddled with endless drops of water and the darkness beyond them. He held onto the ship's railings on his left, waiting for the right time to sprint towards the sails. The foresail was the closest to him.
The ship tilted to the side as a tide threatened to turn it over; at that moment, Afonso let go of the ship's railing with his knife in his right hand. He used the ship's movement to propel himself onto the fore boom and grabbed it with one hand. He cut off the foresheet with his knife in one swoop. The foresail broke loose. The ship steadied for a moment. Afonso released his grip on the fore boom. The deck floor was slippery, but he barely kept his footing as he landed. He turned his gaze towards the main sail.
"Duarte, cut the top sail!" yelled the Captain from the helm, but Duarte could barely hear a thing. His heart was in his mouth while he hugged the main mast in the crow's nest. It was just his luck being in the most dangerous place on the ship for a storm which appeared from nowhere. He was as wet as a fish in deep waters. He looked down at the helm for a moment; the Captain was waiving relentlessly at him with one hand. He couldn't hear a thing, but he read the situation fittingly.
Duarte stared at the top sail. His doubts were strangling him, but he knew he had his part to play in their survival. He reached for his knife and pulled it out of its sheath attached to his belt. The tides hit the ship again, and the wind refused to let up. It knocked Duarte out of the crow's nest, which was high above the deck. A fall from that high would be crushing.
Luckily for him, the shrouds were within his reach. He grabbed onto the ropes with one hand and quick reflexes. It was a bonus that he kept his knife firmly in his other hand. He placed his feet on the shrouds to find his balance. For a moment, he thought he heard voices in the wind.
The same tide threw Afonso at the main mast. It ripped a swing gun off the side of the deck, which headed for the first mate. Afonso's back crashed into the bottom of the main mast. He let out a sound of pain. The swing gun pinned down his leg. His knife dropped from his hand and slid towards the door leading to the crew quarters. "Ahh! Damn me!" he yelled. The expression on his face showed how much pain he was in, and it was quite a lot of pain.
Duarte shut his eyes for a minute. The view from his position was deadly. He had survived many ordeals at sea and wouldn't bow out that easily. He opened his eyes with a newfound resolve amidst his woes. The top sail was still within his aim. He held the tip of his blade and swung it at the top sail, which ripped in the middle. The wind expanded the hole he created in the middle of the top sail and tore it into two. Only the main mast remained.
Frederick crouched behind the door which led to the crew's quarter. He opened it slightly and peeped through the space between the door and its frame. It was scary out there. He had not seen the crew this shaken since he stole away on their ship three years ago. He was just a child separated from his parents at Lothal Port in India; it was his home since birth. His untimely departure from India was spurred by one of the many battles fought by the Tarun-Bin-Sultan, Bahlul Khan Lodi, against the Sharqi dynasty. After much debate, the Captain decided to keep him on his crew; it had something to do with his cheerful and fearless nature. Besides, he was pretty handy for his age.
Frederick never knew what became of his parents; his last memory of his father was his heartfelt plea urging him to run for safety. He couldn't refuse his demands at the time. Maybe someday, he will see them again. He had grown so much since then that he considered himself a fierce man of the sea despite the mockery he endured from his crew mates. In his defence, there weren't many twelve-year-olds who had as much adventure as him. The loud sound of Rupert's bark startled him. "Stay back, boy", he said to the troubled dog behind the door whose barks turned to whines at the eruption of thunder that ensued.
Afonso was in trouble; Frederick could see that. He read the situation aptly as Afonso's knife slid towards the crew quarter's door. Most of his crewmates were incapacitated. He took a deep breath and rushed out of the small corridor leading to the crew's quarters. The door shut behind him, and he grabbed Afonso's knife.
The ship continued to rock across the sea. The wind blew Frederick into the door behind him. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his body. His sight was blurry. He couldn't afford to pass out on the deck. He was one tide away from getting lost at sea. He managed to hold onto the knife. The rain continued to wet his face. His sight began to clear. He could see Afonso waiving him away, but he couldn't hear a word he was saying.
The wind was a solid barrier to his tiny frame, but he showed courage and wisdom beyond his years. He grabbed the knife with two hands and stretched them forward as though piercing the wind. Slowly he moved forward on the deck towards Afonso, who was amazed by his prowess. He made it to the first mate at a steady pace defying the wind in the process. His stretched hands were within Alonso's reach. The ship tilted to the side again suddenly. The swing gun rolled away from Alonso's legs and threw Frederick into the air, but Afonso grabbed his hands just in time. "You crazy kid", the first mate said to him.
Afonso's leg was hurt, but he couldn't let it stop him now. He held onto Frederick with his strong arm and swung his knife at the mainsheet with the other hand. The main sail loosened, and the wind lost its grip on it. Only the jib sail remained. Afonso grabbed the main mast tightly with Frederick in his arm. The wind threatened to throw them overboard, and their bodies floated midair, but the first mate was not letting go.
The Captain turned his sight to the jib sail as he wrestled with his wheel at the helm. His crew had acted admirably; he couldn't ask for more in such a dire situation. Still, he had to think of a way to knock off the jib sail. His matchlock pistol was soaked, and it was as useless as an umbrella in a hurricane. He averted his mind to his crossbow, which hung on the left side of his belt. It was worth a try. He had nothing to lose. With one hand on the wheel, he grabbed an arrow from the little quiver beside his crossbow.
The ship was steadier now, which played to his advantage. He expertly loaded his crossbow with one hand and aimed at the jib sail. The wind wasn't letting up, and rain clouded his sight, but his eyes remained locked on his target. He released a shot that tore through the centre of the jib sail, and the wind ripped the sail apart.
All the sails were down. The chances of the ship tumbling had reduced, but they were not out of danger yet. The tides kept slapping the vessel. Afonso's grip on Frederick loosened; he was slipping away from him. Frederick fell out of his hands, but he could grab his hand before he was blown away. Their hands were locked. "Damn it! Hold on, boy. Hold on!" Afonso said emphatically.
Frederick was scared out of his wits. It was only a matter of time before their wet hands parted, and they did. "No!" Afonso yelled. Frederick screamed as the wind got hold of him. He stretched his hand towards Afonso with his palm wide open as if begging to be caught. The storm disappeared suddenly. Frederick's back hit the deck. The ship was steady. The Captain looked around to assure himself that his mind was not playing tricks on him. The storm was truly gone. He rested on his wheel in relief.
Duarte tightly held the cross around his neck and mumbled prayers into it with his eyes tightly closed. He thought he was a goner. Afonso got up gingerly and limped towards Frederick. He grabbed his shirt with one hand and lifted him up. Afonso's knees fell to the deck before him, and he hugged him. "You crazy brat, you could have died", he said to him. He pulled him out of his grip with his hands on his shoulder.
Frederick felt awkward. It almost felt like Afonso cared about him, and the ship's first mate noticed it. It was out of his character. He got off his knees immediately and cleared his throat. There was a sign of embarrassment on his face. "I told you I'm a man of the sea," Frederick said before Afonso could alter a word. Alonso's face softened. As much as he wouldn't admit it, the kid had grown on him in the few years he had been with them. He reminded him of his boy back in Vila Nova De Gaia.
"Let's hear it for the newest man of the sea", Afonso yelled. The crew on the deck followed up with a resounding roar with their fists raised up to the sky. The Captain smiled at the helm. They all had soft spots for Frederick. Even though the show of emotions was perceived as a sign of weakness for many of them, he could see it.
The sky was clear now, and the sun shone. The beauty of the sea was rooted in its unpredictability at times. "Land! Captain! I see land!" Duarte yelled from the shrouds.
The men on the deck rushed to the railings at the ship's edge, and Frederick squeezed himself between them to have a peek. The Captain removed his long telescope from his jacket and looked towards the position Duarte was pointing at. There was land indeed.
Far ahead of them, there was white sand and a clear beach. Harry rushed into the crew's quarter. He met a happy Rupert in the hallway who jumped at him. "Not now, boy", he said to him. He rushed into his cabin and pulled a box out from underneath his bed. He unhooked the box and grabbed his map before rushing back to the deck. He removed his glasses and wiped off the drops of water on the screen with his sleeve. He ran his fingers through his ponytail while he wore his glasses with his map under his arm.
"Where are we?" the Captain yelled at Harry, who almost dropped the map at the sound of the Captain's baritone voice. Everyone turned their attention to him. He was their trusted navigator; he was a bit nerdy, but he knew his way around maps.
Harry straightened his map. He paid keen attention to it before taking a look at his compass. "We are somewhere in West Africa, it seems", Harry responded. "You sure, lad?" Afonso asked with a firm pat on Harry's shoulder. "I am certain", Harry said while trying to keep his balance. "We have done it, scoundrels!" the Captain yelled. "There aren't any places in the world we haven't been to!" he added. "Yeah!" his men yelled. They must have had a lot of adventures together, Frederick thought.
The sails were damaged, but the ship drifted slowly towards the large expanse of land ahead of them. "Connor, get to work on the sails", the Captain said to his Shipwright. "Aiye Aiye, Captain", Connor responded. He was one of the oldest members of the crew, but he was as agile as the young blood. Captain Tomas picked his sailors from his travels across the sea since he left the port of Póvoa de Varzim at a tender age.
"Drop the anchor", the Captain yelled. The ship was just about the proper distance from land. The crew went about their business with a lot of enthusiasm. The Captain went into his cabin to change his wet clothes. His favourite hat hung on the wooden hanger beside his bed. He grabbed it and placed it gently on his head. He was fully loaded with his crossbow and matchlock pistols. His gunpowder hung below the side of his belt just behind his Spanish cup-hilt rapier. He headed back to the deck. His men had readied the boats and were waiting for his return. The Captain took in a deep breath with hands on his waist. The mysteries of a new place always thrilled him. His men were armed to the teeth as well.
"Miguel, guard the ship while Connor makes his repairs with you, you, you, you, you, and you", the Captain said while pointing at six of his men. "Aye, Captain", they said. "The rest of you hop into the boats. We've got some sightseeing to do", the Captain said. "Yeah!!" they yelled.
Frederick yelled out, too, in excitement. "Not you, boy. You stay on the ship as well", Afonso said to him. Frederick was disappointed, to say the least. "Why not? You never let me off the ship", he lamented. "I'm a man now, remember? I have proved it to you", he said. The men on the deck laughed out loud. "He has a point, you know", Duarte said with his arm around Afonso's neck. "Come along, boy, but it's a jungle out there. Try not to wet your pants", the Captain said. "Sure, Captain. I'll be as brave as you like", Frederick responded energetically.
The Captain and his men lowered their boats onto the sea and rolled for the vast shores. Their boats were filled with all sorts of supplies from the ship. They moved for the glittering beaches of the unknown. The Captain stood on his boat with his foot on its wooden tip till it hit the sand. Their boots hit the sand immediately after. They were twenty-one in number.
Santiago took in a deep breath before exhaling it slowly. "Smells like a new adventure", he said with a grin. His eye patch gave him a mean look. He was one of the erratic ones, always rearing for action. Frederick took in the view slowly. The last time his feet were on land was when he separated from his parents. The beach stretched as far as his eyes could see on the right side and bent into a corner on the left. Beyond the clear sands were tall palm trees lined up like a wall that stretched as far as the beach. Beyond the palm trees was a thick forest; it disappeared into darkness the further he looked. He wondered what scary beasts wandered in the scary-looking forest.
Particular objects caught the eyes of the men on the beach. There were two poles slightly slanted towards each other on the beach. The poles faced the Atlantic Ocean. They didn't look like the work of nature. They are handmade, carved, to be precise. "It seems this island is inhabited", Afonso said to his Captain. "Natives, most likely", the Captain responded.
Rupert dashed through the glittering sands, and he was excited as well. "Come here, boy", Frederick called his best friend before he wandered off. Rupert ran into his arm and pushed him into the shallow waters of the shore. The splash of water was met by a burst of cheerful laughter from Frederick, who was trying to get a grip on his slippery dog. Afonso took one look at him and shook his head before leading his men through the beach.
The sun was setting. "We make camp on the beach. Tomorrow, we will scout the area for valuables", the Captain said to his men. "Don't wander off, kid, and you don't want to know what's lurking in the dark", one of the men teased Frederick. "I'm not scared", Frederick said boldly. "Of course, you are not", the men giggled.
The night was upon them in no time. The men picked up wood logs on the beach and started a campfire. Their tents were set up around it. Four stood guard as the rest sat around the fire, drinking and telling stories. "There I was in the middle of the black waters drifting from the wreckage. I was the last survivor of my ship after the attack of gigantic orcas', Joao said with a bottle of rum in his hand and a dramatic posture.
"O boy", Duarte said while rolling his eyes after he downed his drink. The men around them laughed at his remarks. The ludicrous story was entertaining, at least. The small stature of their narrator added more humour to his gestures. Joao's passion wasn't dented by their mockery. He moved around with so much energy. "All hope was lost till I spotted an island masked by a fog", he continued. "I swam for it as fast as I could. My survival instincts kicked in, and I made it with my balls frozen hard", he said.
"I dragged my lifeless body across the island's beach. The sand was black. Everything looked dull till I walked through a thick fog. It led me deeper into the island even though I could not use my sight. Suddenly, I heard sweet melodies not too far away. The pains in my body turned to pleasure as the sweet voices sunk into my ears. It pulled me further and further till I was out of the fog", Joao said.
Surprisingly, the men were more attentive than they were at the beginning of his tale. Joao had told many lies about his adventures, but this one was one of the good ones. "Before my eyes was paradise. The waterfall of my dreams. The melodies came from angels who laid on the edges of a streak beneath the waterfall. I had not seen anything so beautiful", he said.
"Their hair shone, skins were radiant, and tails glowed. They were mermaids, just like in the tales my mama told me when I was a boy. I didn't believe I would see one in my lifetime, not to mention that many. Their eyes gazed at me while they sang on. My body was no longer mine. I moved to their rhythm like a puppet," he said.
"They surrounded me as I got close to them. The closer I got, the more beautiful they looked. I was in heaven, I tell you until they got about five feet from me. Suddenly, their eyes turned red. The beauties that mesmerised me turned into dreadful monsters with scales. They had several layers of sharp teeth, and they glared at me with blood lust", he said.
"Only the sight of your face could turn fair maidens into monsters", Celso said, seated on the sand. The men erupted with laughter. "Aiye, I shagged your mother, though. I made her a real monster under my sheets", Joao replied with a swipe of his own. The outburst got louder. Frederick was paying keen attention to Joao's story. "How did you survive?" he asked with eyes filled with interest. "This should be priceless", Afonso said before taking a big gulp from his bottle of rum.
"As I realised I was in danger, I had to act fast, think fast. Then I remembered the cute straw doll my mama made for me", Joao said. He removed the doll from his pocket and flashed it at his comrades. "O boy", Miguel said as he palmed his face. The other men had similar expressions on their faces. The Captain let out a loud laugh while seated behind his men, who camped around the fire.
"I raised the doll high into their faces as I turned in circles. They screamed. They backed away from my mama's doll. It was filled with love, and love is powerful", Joao said with a lot of enthusiasm and a comical look. Afonso palmed his forehead as if trying to get out the junk he had just heard. Frederick laughed; he was enjoying himself. He hadn't had this much fun in a while.
The calm fire was dimming. "We need more firewood", Afonso said. "We have checked all over the beach, and there is no more wood", Celso said. "How about that wooden statue thing over there," Santiago said while pointing at the poles on the beach. "They look like they mean something to the people around here. We don't want to anger our host without knowing what they are capable of", Captain Tomas said.
"How about in there?" Afonso said while pointing with his blade at the thick forest behind the palm trees. "All the woods we need. Get to work, boys," the Captain said. There was a prolonged silence at the camp. "Well, you heard the Captain," Afonso said. "We need volunteers," he added. All eyes went straight to Joao. It took him a while to grasp his predicament. "Hold on now. You can't be serious," he said. "What's the matter? Surely you can't be scared of the dark forest. You have your mama's straw doll, remember?" Santiago said to him.
"He is not scared. He has faced worse than a dark forest," Frederick said innocently in Joao's defence. "Right?" Frederick said to Joao with so much belief in his eyes. "You really took in all my adventures, eh," Joao told Frederick with a sweaty face. "Of course I did", Frederick replied with a smile and the naivety of a child. "Surely I can't be scared of a dark forest," Joao said. He was getting back into his act and couldn't let the kid down.
"But an ordeal like this is too trivial for my bravery and expertise. I'd rather have someone else do it", Joao said to hide his cowardice. The men erupted in laughter. "He is scared, I tell you," Santiago said. "No, he is not, show them, Joao", Frederick said while he rushed to his feet. Rupert barked in support of him. Joao was in a fix. "Well, show us, Joao," Miguel said mockingly. It appeared his stories had come back to bite him this time around.
Joao lit his torch and grumbled towards the palm trees with his machete. "You had to have a big mouth," he said to himself. "Santiago, go with him," the Captain said. "Aye, Aye, Captain", he replied.
Joao approached the wall of tall palm trees. He stood before them for a few seconds gazing into the darkness beyond them. The soundless forest was a reminiscence of a graveyard. He raised his torch forward, and tall grasses appeared in the light behind the palm trees.
Joao felt a firm grip on his shoulder. His heart skipped. He swung his torch on the turn to free himself from whatever got hold of him. Santiago leaned back to dodge his swing. "Hold your horses. It's me, dimwit," Santiago said to Joao. "Damn it, you startled me," Joao said with his palm on his chest. "Don't be a pussy. Come on, let's get this over with", Santiago said with his torch held up. He walked through the palm trees with little fear. Joao ran after him.