“We’re tired!”

            “We want to go home!”

            “Ladies, for the last time, the more you whine, the more likely I’m just going to shoot you with my pistol!”

            These salty wenches were getting on my nerves.

            At first, they were quite and scared. Then they saw my crew getting drunk and stupid on rum every night. Now, these women we’ve kidnapped have got no respect for me.

Who doesn’t respect Captain Jim Bleu? I’m the captain of the fastest pirate ship of the seas, Poseidon’s Blade. I’ve raided navy ships, merchants ships, stolen royal treasure, stolen mythological treasure, held kidnapped girls for ransom, seen the mystical side of the sea, and stole rum at port.

How am I not a respectable pirate?

These wenches better learn that respect or it’s to the plank.

“You’ve got breadcrumbs in your bear!” The redhead one screeched.

I turned to face her, “Not another word.”

“How ru…”

I stopped her, “Not another word!”

            I walked from the brig back to the helm of my ship. We were almost to shore on my island. I say it’s mine because no one knows about it. No navy problems would ever trouble me here.

            The island had only one native, who I have befriended, so it was my playground, with a mountain at the center.

            I steered the helm so as we anchored ourselves behind a large rock that the ship could hide behind.

            “Lower the colours!”

            “LOWER THE COLOURS!”

            “Lower the anchor!”

            “LOWER THE ANCHOR!”

            “Prepare the boats to go ashore!”

            “PREPARE THE BOATS TO GO ASHORE!”

            “Mr. Parker’s mother is a scurvy ridden wench!”

            “MY MOTHER IS A SCURVY RIDDEN WENCH!”

            The crew laughed.

            “Got you Mr. Parker.”

            “Aye, you did captain.”

            We had a good little chuckle.

            “What should we do with the girls?”

            “Leave them in the brig. I don’t need the crew forcefully bedding with them, plus it’s not like these girls could stage a successful rebellion.”

            “Aye, captain.”

            I walked to the rowboat and we began to lower into the sea.

            As I sailed away from Poseidon’s Blade. I couldn’t help but feel this might be the last time I lay eyes on her.

             I’m probably just being paranoid.

            After all, the salty air, blazing sun, and bottles of rum could possibly be the source of this train of thought.

            “What are you doing captain?” Mr. Parker asked as I stared mindlessly at the ship.

            “Just remembering what she looks like.”

            Our torches grew bright as the sun set and the shore grew closer.

            Everything was going accordingly.

            Still, something just doesn’t seem right.

I best see the sea nymph when we get ashore, surely she could ease my worries.