First Night On Board

Wow the sea’s looking set to swell up tonight, I’ll take a good look at the rest of the crew before they check me out. Captain Ebony Wilder, hmm, she looks a strange old bird to be skippering a pirate ship and that’s an even stranger old bird with her! The folk on this boat are an interesting looking bunch of people but why on earth are some of them here? The old lad sitting under the mast looks like he’s been press-ganged - but I suspect he’s deep, very deep. The lasses at the rail are champing at the bit, desperate to set sail into the wild blue yonder in search of adventure… and possibly lurve. Oh no, hang on a sec, is she, is she, and yes…thar she blows, chucking up her egg and sausage over the side;I’m certain I’ve seen one of them before, she’s a blue-blooded aristocrat or my name’s not Jan, Jayjay, Wacam, JanJan - what is my name? - just waiting to sail into the wild blue yonder. Well well, fancy seeing her here, now what’s she doing away from mummy and daddy, and in this company no less. The others are a game looking bunch as well but I’ll leave them be; they’ll show their colours when we’re out at sea.
So a lost civilization is it, she’s got a bee in her bonnet about lost civilizations. If there is a lost civilization out there it’s amazing the bizarre looking Long Jane Wilder hasn’t found it by now. In fact looking at her, the only surprising thing is she wasn’t there at its inception; her skin’s so weather beaten I’ll bet it’s papyrus. She certainly likes laying the law down, how many more times is she going to say cat ‘o’ nine-tails in one sentence? As for the outfit she’s wearing, crashing cutlesses, I reckon she’s pinched it off Captain Hook’s washing line!
Gosh I love doing this, it’s fascinating to be in these shadows and watch - oops, we’re rocking a bit, I’ll have to find my sea legs or there’ll be puke on the poop deck. Some of these people are really scared of the Cap and yet they’re volunteers; why would anyone sign up to be a deck hand for someone who scares them? And the skivvies, what’s all that about? They’re absolutely terrified, she only has to glance their way and they look fit to throw themselves over board. I’ll have to get chatting to a few, see how long they’ve sailed with her and why the heck they’re all still here. What is it with them? How come they don’t scarper as soon as the boat hits dry land. I bet there’s a lot they can tell me when they’re not running round like demented galley slaves at her beck and call.

Stone the crows it’s chilly on deck but I’m a one to judge other people, my own clothes are garish and that’s putting it mildly; what was I thinking of, blue pants and a gold top? On the other hand at least I blend in nicely, I look the part. What will she say, I wonder, if she finds out the real reason for me being here. I’ve spent my life searching out ancient wonders so that historians and archaeologists the world over can understand and preserve our past… that joker thinks I’m looking for gold and untold wealth. Treasure. She won’t recognise real treasure when it slaps her in the face like a wet cod. Listen to her, every other sentence it’s all, ‘ah ah mi hearties n remember who’s the C’pin o’ this boat, shiver mi timbers’, I’ve met more realistic pantomime dames! How corny is this woman?
Thanks be to kindly mermaids she’s finally winding up, what a load of old hogwash. Today seems to have gone on for ever, wonder if I’m sickening for something. I feel really odd these days, not myself at all. I’m off before she thinks of anything else to say, I’ll slip round the outskirts. It must be time to hit the hammock, I’ll keep a low profile for now, best to keep quiet and see…

‘What shall we do with a drunken sailor

What shall weeee….ughh!’

“Are you crazy, shush up, we’ll have the whole ship looking this way you half-witted anchor!”

“Hic,hic, I’ll whisper it, hic…”

“You will not whisper anything you drunken lush! How’d you get into this state?”

“Mmm, thas for me to know an you to find out, lovely drop of rum that….”

“Rum! Rum! I’ll rum you if you don’t quit making a row, now get in that pouch and don’t make a murmur!”

“Hey, you, bossy fancy dress freak, when are you going to stop calling me anchor? I do have a name y’know.”

“A name! You have a name! You’re an anchor, that’s your name, and whisper, whisper…!”

” I am an anchor but thas not my name goldie top, my name is Hank, okay, Hank!”

“Hank! HANK! Who the hell calls an anchor Hank? Now shut up and find your place in the pouch and be quick about it!”

“Ooohh, get you with the old sea dog lingo! Quite the sailor aren’t we…”

“Hush, you stop this right now or…”

“Or what? Go on, or what? Thought so, all puff and no powder. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll be quiet as a little mousy if you’ll use my name? Deal? I feel a song coming on, hic…”

“Okay, fine, anything to stop you singing again! I’ll call you..uh hm, Hank, okay, Hank. Now sleep off that grog and don’t let me hear from you again. Good night…Hank.”

Strewth, there are times when I have to question my own sanity but it looks like no one’s noticed. First thing in the morning I’ll have a nosy, ’til then I’m in kip. Who knows what tomorrow’s going to fetch up, s’pose it’ll bring what it brings, anchors, crazy Captains n’all….”

Jan