New Homeport Island (43 page)

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Authors: Robert Lyon

Tags: #Adult, #War, #Sea

BOOK: New Homeport Island
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doomed!!” Shadow puppet captain cried out, “Land ho!! I done
 it once I know’d I could do it again!!” Shadow puppet
 ambassador cried out, “Another island!!! We be saved by our
 hero Cap’in once again! He knowed to foller the currents south
 instead of north by misreadin’ the chart fer the first two months
 at sea!!”
We must have seen smoke from the distant horizon and
 suspected as much or perhaps it was the log debris we didn’t
 notice before, but as it happens our story was likely a fair
 approximation.
Two years ago on the night of betrayal as it is marked upon
 the sundials almanac circle Artimus and his gang gathered at the
 tree line preparing for a fierce of not fatal capture of the
Woodpeg.
Artimus said to Smity, “You know the ones I want and the
 ones I trust. If there is resistance we will have to kill them, they
 aren’t themselves they have island fever.” Smity stood there in
 the darkness and smiled his face was shaded from the moonlight
 by a tree but none the less his arrogant smile over took his entire
 face and looking like a demented clown he replied with a
 macabre glee, “I hope to get a few myself sir.” Artimus replied,
“Good. Go get our crew I’ll be at the hole in the fence. Come
 quietly.” Smity replied, “As quite as a queef sir.” Artimus
 chuckled and said, “And get that good damn smile off your face
I can’t see it but I can hear it.”  
The Woodpeg was slapping about in the water, the aft
 supporting ‘X’ had sunken into the mud enough for the boat to
 sway but the lines were tight and well secured.
Artimus sat at the hole he had been preparing every night
 for a week. He ensured that he dug at the same time of night
 every night so that the native would be accustomed to sleeping

through the noise. Artimus had a bunkmate when he was an
 ensign that got up to urinate at exactly the same hour every
 night, and when he returned he would masturbate for about
 fifteen minutes Dave had learned to sleep through the noise but
 upon occasion suffer a homosexual erotic dream as a result of
 these activates, he had hoped to cause the same in the natives.
Atrisia was the first to get to Artimus’s position and Smity
 whispered from the rear, “I had her go first sir so that we arrived
 exactly as we agreed.” Artimus replied, “Hey…queef. Tell me I
 didn’t choice wrong when I picked you.” Smity responded, “Just
 don’t fuck me and I won’t cum in your face.” Artimus hushed
 back, “Then we agree.”
As they slipped through the fence Artimus went first to
 swim to the boat and assume the captains station. Atrisia passed
 through second to watch for an interruption as the Eric and Mike
 slipped through and headed to the boat. Atrisia waited for
George Johann to pass through then she followed him to the
 boat. She giggled when he got turned around in a shadow and
 tripped over a rock.
Once all were aboard they untethered the ship and pushed
 away from the forward supporting ‘X’ and swung the crane out
 of the way. As the boat moved out with the forward mast
 partially raised captain Artimus looked back at the native camp
 and said, “Sweet dreams fags”
The lines leading to the crane then over to the ship were the
 nearest thing to a pier that had been made despite the camp fire
 story plan and required some swimming. Those lines now
 wrapped the crane in the current and the crashing surf threatened
 to topple the crane. At a distance of two hundred yards both
 forward and amidships mast were raised pulling two triangular
 sheets into place, thought the amidships masts sail had to be slid

back and adjusted on the mast then the sail took in the wind
 from astern and swung out wide to port.
The Wooden peg had been freed and was making her run
 on open waters with the grace of cat. Mike stumbled forward to
 sit at the bow and Atrisia sat amid ship. Artimus sat at the till
 and tried to figure out the rigging. In the moonlight he yelled
 out, “I’m a Captain again!!!”  
Milson, Smity, and Johann struck below and found Cabin
 boy was already there. He uttered in his sleep, “Daddy?” Smity
 leaned over and whispered in his ear, “What bitch?”
Artimus struck below and asked, “Is he here?” Smity
 replied, “If you mean your cabin boy then yes sir.” Aritmus said,
“Good it’s cold out there, cabin boy take the helm.” Wildly
 woke up and said, “Aye, Captain” Smity blurted out as he head
 out, “Try not to suck a dick on your way out there.” Wildly
 scoffed back, “That’s what you’re here for Smity.”  
As the sun rose they were all asleep and on an unknown
 course. They had left about four hours before sunrise. Captain
Artimus was very enthusiastic about finally being home again.
His crew tried to convince him they still had a long way to go
 before they were home his response was, “That’s life you’re
 talking about and there is a long way to go. But I am a captain
 and this is my home!” his arms were stretched out palms turned
 toward the sky. He looked up with a joyful smile and shook his
 head to and fro as though he were enjoying a warm pleasant
 shower. It was quiet a spectacle; George Johann found it
 reminiscent of nineteen seventies Irish soap commercials.
The captain struck below to start chart making. He had
 found the sextant we had made all the paper for the charts and
 noticed but did not recognize the engraving of the navigational
 circle. That circle was to establish ‘navigational zero’ our

starting point. He instead intended on using the copy he had
 made in the moonlight, when he snuck cabin boy aboard after
 they had stolen and loaded extra provisions.  
Artimus was enjoying a leech from his private reserve and
 since there was a close approximation to yeast on board stored
 in what he considered to be a canopic jar he would attempt to
 ferment a few for a quick buzz.
   After two weeks of Artimus navigating he decided he was
 lost. The stores had run low because they hadn’t rationed food as
 planned, they didn’t ration it at all. There was a storm on the
 horizon and he hoped somehow that would lead to land. In an
 exaggerated gesture he bumped up against George and acted as
 though he had caused him to drop the sextant into the water.
Artimus cried out just as they collided, “You ignorant fucking
 buffoon you knocked the sextant into the water! Shit! Fuck!
Shit! Does anyone see it?” Eric and Atrisia were in exactly the
 right positions to have fallen for the ploy from what they had
 seen.
Atrisia yelled out, “God damn idiot! No, it sank!” Eric
 looked over the side and down into the water and didn’t see
 anything. Eric said, “Captain, you said we had a turn coming up
 and it should be our last…I can hold us on a straight
 course…which way.” Artimus in a fit of false rage asked, “Can
 you! Can you really!?” Eric said, “Yes.” with despite emotion.
Atrisia added, “Yes, sir. Yes, we can” Artimus said, “Well don’t
 let me fuck with your confidence but we have to pass through
 that storm over there or normal winds and tides will work
 against us. And that’s just the low resolution stuff, the dominant
 winds and tides.” Eric and Atrisia were stunned and looked at
 the storm. Wildly had popped his head out from below and also

looked stunned. George cried out rattled with angst, “Well fuck,
 do it now!”  
Atrisia rushed back to the till like a spider on all fours, and
 knocked Eric aside and headed into the storm. Eric released the
 till and looked at the storm in awe. Eric thought to himself,
“This is going to be rough but I can’t believe the captain is this
 good.” Eric knew the captain would only risk it if necessary and
 if it would definitely work, he did however doubt himself but as
 always he would find confidence in his Captain.
Artimus knew there wasn’t a chance those charts and tools
 could help them at all and threw in the towel on their use. He
 made a command decision and executed it in such a way as to
 maintain confidence in the Captain.
Artimus called over to Mills as he sat next to Atrisia
 watching the storm apparently grow, “Haul in the foresail!” Eric
 clung to the deck as he scurried up to the bow then called back
 to Atrisia, “Ready.” Atrisia loosened the line knotted near her to
 the foresail and the sail mast lowered Eric pulled in the sail
 folding it on the deck.
Atrisia called over to the captain, “What about the midship
 sail.” Artimus replied, “The mainsail is fine.” As they were
 blown into the storm Captain Artimus was exhilarated, this is
 what he would brag about in heaven.  
Once they had hit the storm the midship sail tore straight
 down the middle and ripped open. There was twine and thorns
 for repair aboard but this wasn’t the time. The sail was being
 reduced to threads and twine in the wind. Atrisia yelled, “oh
 my…ca..ca..captain, my…captain!” Artimus popped up and
 looked at her then said, “That doesn’t go exactly that way.”
Atrisia looked at him in terror and said, “We lost the mainsail
 sir!” Artimus replied, “Haul in the boom!” Atrisia looked around

thinking, ‘boom, the boom…boom’ then blurted out as she
 started untying lines and pulling one as she fed out there other,
“It’s a diagonal mast that raises with a pulley system and lowers
 the same way…It’s a boom!!” She was over joyed that the
 captain had once again showed his prowess.
In response the captain then called out with a grin in response to
 her excitement, “Secure the till and strike below!!” Atrisia
 yelled back happily, “Aye aye sir!”
They stayed below for three days in the storm before even
 looking outside, and when they did it was only swirls of gray
 upon gray like flying amidst the clouds. They had been bailing
 out water exhaustively for days, but the captain knew where it
 not for the extra ballast the ship would have been capsized.  
The Woodenpeg commissioned by the senate of new homeport
 island had endured the foul weather for days and with the
 exception of the midship sail was undamaged. She braved a
 torrential storm for a week end a half before the storm broke.
Once they ventured above they were hungry, wet, and cold. But
 as the saying goes for the foolish, ‘good fortune is your friend’,
 there on the horizon, “Land ho!!”  
Chapter Fourteen
A less hospitable home
The ship and her crew had survived the storm and as the
 captain had counted on normal weather patterns in that region
 did in fact blow them to land. The midship sail had been reduced
 to knots of twine and feathery fibers. The boats stores were
 empty, even the charcoal had all been used making fresh water

for drinking and a fish consommé. The boat was anchored out
 just off the curling surf. They were still bailing out water and the
 captain decided since they were out of food they would have the
 boat completely bailed out before they risked beaching the boat.
Artimus peered at the shoreline as his crew bailed out the water.
He uttered to himself as he gazed up to the sky, “I think I made
 my point.” George was pissed off that he had to do any menial
 labor so having over heard the Captains comment he said under
 his breath, “What’s that? That there is something you can do in
 your pants, that makes Jesus cry?”  
The captain asked, “Anyone up for a swim?” Atrisia replied,
“This island looks pretty small sir” Smity stood up from his
 bailing and asked with a hint of sarcasm, “I wonder what the
 natives of this island are like?”  
Artimus looked back at the island and said cautiously, “There’s
 a chance it’s a peninsula or maybe it’s just long rather than
 wide. It’s all in your perspective…in any case we need to
 replenish our stores.”
They finished bailing out the boat as Artimus inspected the
 foresail and rigging, he found that they would definitely catch
 enough wind to beach the boat.
Once they had the boat even keel and dewatered, the captain sat
 midship on the portside and yelled, “Hoist the foresail and brace
 for heavy rolls!” Wildly was below and grabbed onto Milsons
 arm and said, “Don’t let me drown big brother.” Eric replied,
“You’ll be alright bitch. The Captain is taking her in.”
The size of the boat was that of a small ship and was
 occasionally referred to as a boat and sometimes a ship, she
 pitched in the surf but her rolls were inconsequential so long as
 they maintained headway. Just beached or keeled over landfall
 was absolutely inevitable. George braced himself against the

hull at the ribs in the cabin, he whimpered out a song about a
 girl named sue, in cold shock and still somewhat wet.
The Woodenpeg pitched hard and dashed right and left, the till
 just managed to maintain steerage and the sails began to flutter.
The sail cracked with wind once it had gotten wet with a blast of
 surf and the Woodenpeg lunged forward toward land.
Once she had dug in under her sails she chopped the surf like a
 coast guard cutter and plowed into the sand beneath the water.
She had run soft aground by the captain’s intent for the benefit
 of her crew and sustained no hull damage. The crew and Captain
 jumped into the surf and ran lines to the nearby by scattering of
 trees and used them like pulleys to by the boat in. With the help
 of the crashing surf the Woodenpeg was successfully beached
 and her lines were tied to a couple of trees.
Atrisia asked, “What now?” Smity said, “I think the question is
 where the hell are we?” The Captain stepped up and said,
“We’re just restocking so start that foraging thing. Oh, and that
 thing we did on the other island…make sure there isn’t a radio
 repeater, weather station or any of that other stuff. Let’s get it
 done.” and the captain clapped his hands together with a big
 smile on his face.
All but the captain and his cabin boy went to forage for food.
The captain put his arm around his cabin boy and looked at him
 with a smile the pointed out at the still raging sea and asked
 cheerfully, “Am I right?” Wildly was a little confused as to the
 question and looked out at the rolling sea. The Captain kissed
 his cheek and smacked his butt and said, “You’ll understand
 when you understand…” and the captain sat down then
 continued, “Go build us a couple of lean-tos”
The captain sat there enamored with the spectacle of low swirls
 of clouds and crashing white caps, rolling waves and shattering

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