Captain Calamity | Shiver Me Timbers 2023

Island 4: Sail Away

Note: Two cotton balls, bought from the Port Market for the siren's curse, are being used.

After Captain Clarke came to visit, Sam knew he had to leave. Oh, sure, Clarke hadn't actually said anything threatening. But then, he didn't have to. Sam knew that if he valued his hide, he had no choice but to get out of here. And the sooner, the better.

At least Penelope's orange juice seemed to help. In just a few days, he was feeling well enough that he could probably safely slip away unnoticed. So, once it got to be night, he left a few of his diamonds on the nightstand for her, tucked his wand into his scabbard, and snuck down the darkened stairs. They creaked a bit, but he figured most of the other patrons would be too drunk or too unconscious to notice. Everything was going swimmingly, until he opened the front door.

"Who's there?" someone called out shakily from the shadows behind him. Sam recognized it almost immediately as that small cabin boy who'd followed him when most of his crew had happily deserted.

"Kid?" Sam asked, sighing to himself. Why did the cabin boy have to be awake now?

"Captain?"

Sam heard the soft sounds of feet shuffling towards him.

"Where are you going?" the cabin boy asked.

"Well... I..." Sam stumbled. Finally, he said, "I was just going to get a bit of fresh air."

"You're leaving, aren't you?" the cabin boy asked, sounding strangely disappointed.

"...Take a walk with me." Sam said after a minute.

They walked out of the tavern together, Sam guiding them vaguely towards the docks. He might not have a ship anymore, but he could probably manage to board someone else's. At least he had more than enough to pay his fare for once. Then, he'd be free.

It wasn't that Sam wanted to leave, but he couldn't stay here. He was known in Pirates' Cove by a number of nicknames, none of them exactly flattering: Captain Calamity, the Worst Pirate in the West, the Bumbling Buccaneer... Why couldn't he be the Brave Buccaneer? Or the Matchless Marauder? Or even just Sam?

No, there was nothing left for him here but ridicule. The Ridiculous Raider. 

"You ever think that a pirate's life isn't all it's cracked up to be?" Sam found himself asking the kid. It was kind of a rhetorical question, but he unexpectedly found himself wondering how someone so young had gotten into this.

The kid looked at him and shrugged, but didn't say anything.

"I mean, the looting's great when you can pull it off, but doesn't it seem like there should be more than this?"

Sam couldn't believe he was confiding in someone so much younger; what was he thinking? Though he guessed it was because the kid was here, and if all went to plan, he'd be the last person Sam would ever talk to before he left this place. So what did he really care?

"More than scrubbing decks, carrying buckets of slop to the crew, and trimming the sails?" the kid asked. Sam laughed. The kid did have a point; he had one of the worst jobs on the ship.

"Exactly." Sam nodded. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Milo." the kid said.

"Milo, huh?" Sam said absentmindedly, trying to remember if he'd ever known that. It definitely seemed like something he should have known. "What made you want to be a pirate anyway?"

"Adventure." Milo grinned. His face darkened slightly as he looked down at the sand beneath his boots. "Hasn't always worked out that way though."

"It certainly hasn't." Sam agreed.

But maybe that was the problem. Maybe Sam didn't want adventure. At least, not the sea-faring kind. Besides, it wasn't a particularly lucrative life for him. His success rate was so low, there were whispers that he was cursed. And it wasn't as if he needed the money – he'd managed to get plenty of that. It really did figure that his only successful raid had been on a snake. No one even believed him when he told the tale.

Off in the distance, far across the water, he thought he heard singing. Sirens. Sam shuddered; it was an excellent reminder of the type of dangers he faced daily on the sea.

"You'd better be getting back to the tavern." Sam said, looking down at the kid. He was probably too young to be taken in by their allure, but it wasn't worth the risk.

"What about you?" Milo asked.

"Me?" Sam looked out across the sea. "I think I'm going to go on one last adventure."

"You don't mean...?" the kid sounded nervous. He glanced at the waves before whispering something about that song. Sam laughed.

"Oh, don't worry – nothing like that, my boy. No, I think I'm going to see what lies out past the southern shore." There was no way he was going anywhere near the rocks where the mermaids made their home. He attracted enough trouble on his own – why invite more?

Once Sam had convinced Milo he wouldn't be going down to Davy Jones's locker any time soon, he sent the boy off and finished the sandy trek to the docks. The Esperanza was still in the harbor. Sam grinned. He was fairly friendly with their quartermaster; he was sure he could bribe his way across the sea. And if not, there was always the navigator from the Aboat Time. Younger and less reputable, but he'd do in a pinch.

Sam pulled at a rip in his coat that he'd gotten when his exquisite, majestic ship was dashed upon the rocks. He probably should have gotten a new coat before he absconded, but he didn't want to waste the time. And this old coat would have clear advantages tonight.

He pulled a few tufts of cotton insulation out and stuffed them in his ears. Then, he settled down on the sand, watching the waves and waiting.

It wasn't until just before sunset that Jason finally came staggering up the dock. Sam turned to him and grinned. He cautiously pulled the cotton out of his ears, glad that the sirens' song had apparently stopped as the sky started to brighten.

"Jason!" Sam grinned. "I need a ride."