The Bosun Banters

March 23, 2014

Ahoy and fine greetings from your humble servant. I may not be a looker, or much of a talker for that, but I am known to me shipmates as Bosun Billy Hook. The "Hook" is on account of the fact that though I still have both me paddles, my left can land a man five times me size, like a porpoise batters an eel! Heh, heh, heh - anyways, enough ‘bout me, I got stuff to tell ye.


From the outset, I must warn ye fair reader, these tales are not for the bland hearted, nor the straight-thinking pedants out there; we dwell and trade in far stranger oceans, as ancient as grand Atlantis herself (oh, and she was a grand city that one, though her people were more than a little odd: fish-cursed seashell fetishists the lot of ‘em! Couldn’t stomach their endless conch-choirs at parties. No rhythm if yer know what I mean.)


The Door - ‘tis a rum old business, and I can’t say as I have the full mind to comprehend its true nature (I blame the rum, or the weirdroot, or some such, though my mother always said I wasn’t the sharpest twig on the bush). All’s I can tell ye, is that the Captain has always said he ‘inherited’ it, but I can also tell ye that there’s them amongst the crew who doubts that somewhat, and can’t say as I blame ‘em too much neither. Most things are seldom as Old Nick describes!


So, as I was sayin’, The Door: it’s an odd contraption, or perhaps it’s a device?


Whatever ‘tis called, ‘tis a most unusual thing. From what little I understand, The Door will open as much as the moon will show, and that can be most unpredictable – ‘cos other places, bein' on the other side, have other moons.


When the moon wanes and becomes but a sliver, the door will open but a crack. At these times all we can do is slip trollies, trays, nets and the like through, and then drag back by blind luck whatever it is that we snag. Who or what waits on the far side of the sliver-cracked Door I do not know - but strange smells and sounds leak out sometimes, fair weird enough to curl your beard!


Right then, me hearties, enough of the tall tales: I’ve a rum ration to dole out, a fool to flog, and some very fine wares to flog too, whilst we are on the subject, and if ye have a mind.


Bosun Billy Hook

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