A Pirate's Life for Mei

Here Come the Marines

Williams

Twas a dark and stormy night. For the first time in weeks, the serene warmth and sunshine of the Lesser Antilles had been spoiled by steely clouds and torrents of rain. But only after the makeshift catamaran had set out from Barbados and begun the crossing to St. Vincent.

They'd embarked with good cheer and expectations of this being a relatively easy mission. Those chosen to go would acquire praise for recapturing the now-infamous Mei Ling, the escaped prisoner who had destroyed a brig.

First Officer Dwayne Williams, who had his heart decidedly set on achieving captaincy before the age of thirty, had insisted on leading the mission as yet another step towards that end. He was one of the hottest up-and-coming officers in the English ranks, and that was as much from being aggressively proactive on his own behalf as it was from natural talent. He spent less of his time carousing the way many other guards did and more at training and working his butt off, the way his captain did. He couldn't have asked for a better example to follow than Captain Fowler and was determined to make the most of it—and then surpass him.

The mood on the catamaran had taken a turn for the worse only two hours out to sea when the weather had decided to become uncooperative. And that was putting it politely.

The chilly wind whipped hard. Stinging pellets of rain came at them from one side one moment, then swirled around to come at them from another direction the next, so that it made covering up and hiding from the onslaught next to impossible. All were soaked to the bone and could do absolutely nothing about it. The catamaran was nothing more than a wooden platform constructed above two very large rowboats, called longboats. There were no sides and no housing from which to garner protection from the elements as that had been seen as unnecessary for the short trip and because it would provide wind resistance in an already slow and clumsy craft.

The catamaran had a single, rectangular sail on the mast sprouting from the middle of the platform. A barrel of water and two watertight chests of supplies had been bolted to the deck. Dwayne worried they'd be torn away by one of the large waves that periodically crashed over them. Those waves had washed four marines away to their drowning deaths before the others had used what rope they had to secure themselves to the mast. Even the two sailors brought to handle sail and tiller had lifelines on. Despite being experienced seamen, both had hard, set faces and devoted all their attention to keeping the catamaran afloat in the squall and on course.

Dwayne shivered, his body cold and wrinkled from the wet, wearing his iconic red jacket and white pants, both of which clung to his athletic body. Two muskets hung across his back, their bayonets sheathed at his waist, alongside a grenade. Only the chin strap kept his cylindrical hat in place in the wind. He was miserable and had been for more than a day out here as the squall refused to let up. The crossing was taking much longer than it would have in calmer seas.

The others had mutinous looks on their faces, and when anyone did speak, it was with anger and frustration. When they'd set out, each had been excited for an adventure outside of regular duties, but now they all cursed their ill luck. Sleeping was next to impossible in the rain, especially when waves kept pouring over your face, filling your airways with saltwater. So everyone was not just cold and wet but short on sleep as well.

Spirits lifted as land came in sight at long last, St. Vincent's volcano sticking up over the waves. For the first time in a long time, lips creased into smiles and men began to think less of their suffering and more about the mission ahead again. The exhausted sailors were on their last legs from fighting the sea for so long without reprieve. Now they grinned as the winds lessened, as if it was giving up on the idea of sinking them now that they were within sight of their destination. The rain, however, continued down unabated.