Cutthroats of the Coast

Chapter 5 - Gainful Employment - My Talents Recognized

After several beatings, during which I dutifully groaned and twisted about, fearing that my lack of reaction might provoke a more formidable thrashing, I found myself thrown on to the deck of the head where I struck my head on the foot of the massive bowsprit.  I might not feel pain but I can still be rendered insensible by blows.  

I somehow knew that some time had passed by the time I became aware of harsh voices above me.  I believe that I had soiled myself again but the firey pain in my guts had subsided and was nothing more than a glowing coal.  I opened my eyes and, although much was difficult to percieve, I found that I could see planking and dirty, calloused feet.  I noted that one of the men had an inflamed, suppurating ingrowing toenail.  That'll hurt, I thought absently, blinking furiously, trying to clear my sight.

"Are ye goin' to hit him again, Bill?"

"Christ, how he stinks!"

"I'd not lay hands upon him until Neptune's tears have washed him of his filth"

"Clap a stopper over that talk, Preacher. Just wash that turd down!"  Butcher's voice ordered.

"Pass down that line then."

Line?  There was a short pause while my disordered thoughts straightened.  Line?  Surely there would be buckets, not a rope?  God, were they going to hang me?

"W-wait!" I struggled to say when I felt the coarse, manilla rope circle my ankles.  The words choked in my mouth and all I heard was a strangulated cough.  

"This is disgusting!" I heard the one at my feet say.  "He's all covered in shit!"

The rope was pulled tight and I winced.  I could feel that!  Of all the places on my body that was unaffected by my nerveless skin, it was my feet  and ankles.

"It's not so bad here," another said as he yanked my arms above me and quickly bound my wrists, fastening them with another long line.  The fog clouding my eyes cleared and  I could see this rope disappear up into the maze of the ship's rigging, starkly outlined against the searing blue of the sky. 

"He's fast, Bill!"

"Haul away then!"

I yelped with surprise as the rope pulled my arms almost out of their sockets and I swiftlty ascended.  Hard faces, callous and sneering, leered up at me as spun around like a fish on a hook.

Butcher stepped forward with a look of profound distaste, "Can ye swim, West?"

I shook my head most vigourously, lying  - God forgive me - in the hope that my denial might prompt some clemency, "N - no, Mr Butcher!  Have mercy, please! "

"Oh no, West.  No mercy for you.  Ye'll dance to our tune now whilst we have a little fun with ye!"  Butcher cackled.  "Get this stinking sack of unchristian shit off my ship, lads.  Swing out and down!"

I cried out in fear and my poor guts let out a departing farewell.  Their faces receded and in my bewildered state it took me several heart stopping moments to realise that I had been swung out to the side of the ship.  By some contrivance far up above me, I now hung just beyond the reach of the cathead, the line from my feet snaking back to the men clustered around the bowsprit.  A gust heeled The Betsy farther over and I too swung away from the ship.  I looked down and saw nothing beneath me save the heaving green swell of the ocean.

"Lower away!"  Butcher called. "Time for your bath, Mr West!"

"Oh Christ!" I managed to yowl before I hit the water.

 This was no steady descent.  I dropped like an anvil into the sea and plunged down deep, my body dragging on the line, veering me close into the ship.   Without the use of my hands or legs I was completely at the mercy of whoever was holding the line.   I had held my breath as I hit the sea but this blessed air was smashed from me in a whirlng storm of bubbles as my body struck the barnacle and weed encrusted hull. I bounced along the side of the ship and I could feel my clothes tearing on the sharp shells.  My lungs burned with the need to take a breath and I was convinced that my vision was getting darker, more cloudy.  However, with horror, I realised that the cloudiness was not caused by my need to breath, but by the blood that poured from my shredded flesh.  Panicking, I screamed, which in hindsight was a mistake.  Before I could close my mouth I had sucked in a mass of cold sea water.