Sail (Day 9)
Posted September 28th, 2018 by EJChang
September 28th, 2018
Sunday, July 31st, 1892:
8:42am: I woke up early today, at 6:00am, so I decided to head up to the sitting room. Shawn and Scott were already there, and Shawn was trying to sing again, but I had no idea what song he was trying to sing since he sounded like a meowing cat. Scott laughed his head off so much that he fell backwards in his chair and crashed his head into a shelf of pens, causing all of them to fall off and hit the ground. The pens rolled all around the floor, and all three of us started to slip and slide until the pens finally settled down in the corners. “Why did you knock down the pens?!” shrieked Shawn. “Why did you try to sing?!” cried Scott. “That was the worst voice I have ever heard!” Shawn sighed and looked down. Scott and I both started laughing. “Oh, come on, Shawn, a lot of people have a voice worse than that,” I comforted. “You’re nowhere near the worst I’ve heard in my life.” Scott snorted. “I find that hard to believe.” “Boy, shut up!” shouted Shawn, and he grabbed a broom and started chasing Scott around the room. Scott ran out of the room and up to the deck, laughing, while Shawn tailed him, trying to whack him with his broom. I sat down on a chair and started to read a book I had just discovered from the reading room, a fictional story about a prison escapee’s story of how he fled the country. I had been reading for only ten minutes when a voice sounded from the doorway. “Hey.” I looked up. Henry was standing in the entrance to the room, carrying pencils, erasers, and paper. “Hi, Henry,” I replied. Henry stared at me. “What are you doing here? You don’t usually come up here often.” “Just felt like it,” I replied lamely. “It’s nice and quiet up here.” “Oh, yes,” said Henry. “It’s so loud and annoying down in the cabins because of Shawn’s singing.” “You hear that too?” I asked. “I do. I can’t believe how bad it is.” “Oh, Shawn was in here just now,” I informed Henry. “He was?” “He was trying to sing again, and Scott made fun of him, so Shawn chased him onto the deck with a broom.” Henry giggled. “Okay, that’s just weird.” “It is.” Suddenly, two loud screams came from somewhere up on the deck. “What is that?!” Henry screamed, alarmed. “It sounds a like a monster!” I cried. Henry shut the door. “We need to barricade ourselves! Maybe some other sailors got on the ship!” He then started moving the furniture in front of the door. Once Henry and I were on the other side of the room, staring at the door, I felt confident. No one could get through the door with all the furniture blocking the entrance. The screams were getting louder and louder. Suddenly, two loud crashes sounded. It sounded like two people had crashed into the door and failed to open it. Then there was the sound of something smashing someone’s head. “Help!” a voice shouted. “Why won’t this door open? Don! Are you still in there?! Open up!” The voice sounded strangely familiar. “Scott? Is that you?” I asked. “Yes!” cried Scott. “And Shawn’s cracking my skull with the broom! Open up!” Henry and I looked at each other for a second, and then collapsed to the floor, laughing hysterically. “No, this is not funny!” screamed Scott. “Open up! I’m going to die at this rate!” Finally, there came the sound of the door creaking open. “Yes! There we go!” cried Scott. He jumped over the furniture and stormed over to us. “What kind of people are you?!” he screamed. “You realize I could have-” But before he could finish his sentence, Shawn jumped him from behind and wacked him on the head with his broom. Scott collapsed, unconscious. “Don’t you think you’ve taken this a bit too far?” I asked Shawn. “He deserved it,” grumbled Shawn. “He’s just like everyone else. Back in my hometown, everyone always made fun of my singing skills, so I was made unpopular. This brings back bad memories.” Scott suddenly popped up, already conscious. When he saw Shawn and the broom, he screamed and fled. “Such a coward,” muttered Shawn. After that, I was done with the sitting room, so Henry and I went up to the deck and wandered around, talking to people. I didn’t see Scott, so he must have hidden in his cabin. Breakfast was another good meal. It was blueberry pancakes, tomatoes, and milk. Scott was about to take the seat next to Marcus, but when he saw that he would be sitting next to Shawn, he quickly scurried away and jumped in the seat to my left, which left Chris to sit next to Shawn. We eat our meals in the kitchen, which is a very big room. Our table has thirteen chairs, enough for each of us, and although the table is quite large, we usually have so much food that it barely all fits on the table. I sat next to Scott and Chris, who seems to have recovered from his traumatic experience yesterday. All of that seems like such a long time ago. And when I look back in this diary, the same applies for other events. Has it only been a week since we destroyed the Precious and killed most of the crew members? Well, it wasn’t a complete success, as the prisoners all escaped in a lifeboat. And was it only five days ago that we narrowly escaped from Havana and its police force? And was it a week and one day ago that we escaped from Vero Beach? I feel like all that took place years ago. Anyway, it’s after breakfast now, and I’m just sitting in the crow’s nest, but I’m not so much looking out as I’m writing in this diary. Wait a second, what’s that?
1:23pm: It seems as if this crew cannot avoid being involved in one disaster after another. I don’t know if we’re a big magnet for trouble or we’re just unlucky, but every day there’s a new problem. As I was saying, I actually spotted something on the horizon, but I had no idea what it was. My logical conclusion was that it was a ship, as I didn’t know what else would be sailing around out here. Speaking of which, Captain Woods reported that we’re not too far away from New York, and we should be getting there soon. But the news about New York was wiped from my head as I stared out from the crow’s nest, trying to figure out what exactly it was. No one else had seemed to spot it yet. As the ship got a tiny bit closer, I realized it was a ship, very big, bigger than ours. “Hey!” I screamed down to the deck. “Hey! There’s another ship heading our way!” Everyone gasped. Captain Woods took immediate action. “Get to the cannons!” he shouted. “And bring out the guns! Do not fire unless I command you to!” Everyone hopped to their instructions. I chose a cannon right next to Doug and Henry. In a few minutes, everyone was ready and waiting. It seemed as if the other ship had spotted us as well and was preparing their cannons and guns. I started to get worried. Their ship was so much bigger and had a much larger arsenal of firing equipment, if they were hostile, the Brave would easily sink. The other ship finally got close enough to be considered in firing range, but Captain Woods ordered us to hold our fire. The ship’s name was on the side of the ship, it was called the Journey. The captain of the other ship stepped up. “Ahoy there!” he called. “This is Captain Thompson! Who are you?” “I am Captain Woods!” Captain Woods responded. “We will not attack unless provoked, so either state your business or go on!” Captain Thompson chuckled. “Oh, you don’t attack unless you’re provoked?” he laughed. “Well, let me tell you this, buddy boy. We attack everyone in our path, and soon we’ll take over the world.” It was then that I realized how strange everyone looked. They were all wearing black top hats with a white stripe, and everyone was wearing the same black suits and pants. “Are you dressed for a funeral or something?” Richard called out. Captain Thompson chuckled again. “Ah, I see we have a loud mouth right here. What’s your name, young man?” “Richard Smith,” Richard responded. “Well, Richard, it would be such a pleasure to blow an annoying person like you to-” “Fire!” screamed Captain Woods. Seven cannonballs went blasting at the Journey. Scott’s shot was angled too far downward and fell with a splash into the ocean. Cory’s shot was just a few inches high, and it barely missed Captain Thompson’s quarters. Captain Woods had a great shot, however. He blasted away right into the side of the ship, square in the middle. The other crew gasped. Richard must have lost focus somewhere, as his shot went sailing fifty feet high. The crew of the Journey stopped gasping and started laughing and making fun of Richard. “Maybe Shawn should replace you, Richard,” said Captain Woods softly. Richard stomped away. Doug and Henry’s shots both went far to the left. My shot sailed far to the right. Our first round of shots had only had one that even connected, and Captain Thompson was now shouting, “Okay, boys! Let’s show them our firepower!” “Wait!” cried Shawn. “I want to try!” The other crew took one look at Shawn, and then burst out laughing. “What the heck are you supposed to be?! And what is that drawing sticking out of your pocket?!” cried a cook. “I’m a navigator, and this is my own map I drew!” shouted Shawn. “Those are the drawing skills of a preschooler!” screamed the cook, doubling over in laughter. “And how’s a navigator supposed to use a cannon?!” “We’re cooks, and we’ve used them!” cried Marcus, pointing at William as well. “Who are you, anyway?” “I’m Jason,” said Jason. “And you probably did horrible anyway!” “Enough!” shouted Captain Thompson. “Fire away and make them think twice about insulting us!” “Kill the navigator and the cooks first!” Jason cackled. “We’ll see about that!” shouted Shawn, and he fired a cannonball. It seemed to fly across the ocean for an eternity before finally hitting the exact target. The cannonball took off Jason’s head. Everyone except Shawn gasped in horror and disgust. Jason’s head rolled across the deck and fell into the ocean. The crew of the Brave recovered from their shock and turned to amazement at Shawn’s sniping skills. “Nice one, buddy!” cried Richard. “How did you do that?!” shrieked William. “Enough!” screamed Captain Thompson, and everyone was silenced. “So you do have some skills, navigator,” said Captain Thompson. “But that doesn’t matter! Anyone who’s not firing a cannon, come with me across this bridge!” Captain Thompson pulled out a long rope with two pointy-looking ends. He sank one into the deck of the Journey, and then threw the other end to our ship. Marcus dived out of the way as the other pointy end sank into our deck. “Climb across!” cried Captain Thompson. Captain Thompson and six other people started to climb across the rope to our ship. “Cannons, try destroying the cannons on the other side! Gunmen, snipe the invaders off the rope!” Marcus, William, Richard, Theo, Chris, and Murray all fired away with rifles, but the other team must have been trained in doing this, as they swung and jumped out of the way of any bullets. One bullet from Theo missed its original target, but went all the way to the other side and nailed a crewman in the arm. “Ouch!” he screamed. But somehow, he seemed to be fine, and he continued to fire the cannon. I even spent one cannon shot on the men climbing across the rope, as Doug did as well, but both cannonballs missed. Frustrated, I continued to fire cannonballs across the other side. It seemed as if almost no cannonballs were landing for us. Three cannonballs had made contact with the Brave already. One had blown up Captain Woods’ quarters, one blew up the empty room, and one sank itself into the side of the ship and revealed Marcus and William’s cabins. Finally, Cory launched a cannonball that had a high-looking arc, but it fell downwards and landed right in the middle of the deck. A cabin boy dived out of the way just in time. Even after that hit, it seemed to be a lost cause. None of our cannonballs would connect, and the Brave was literally getting wrecked. Multiple times, our ship would give a big jolt, and everyone would slip and slide. Meanwhile, Captain Thompson had decided it would be too dangerous to cross the rope completely, and he had returned to the Journey with his crew, continuing to fire rifles. Suddenly, there was a loud scream. Everyone turned to see Chris lying flat on the deck, blood spilling out of his shoulder. Apparently, he had gotten hit by a rifle. “No!” screamed Theo, who was the first one to get there. “Doug, get him out of shooting range and tend to him! Marcus, take Doug’s place!” ordered Captain Woods. As Doug sprinted to the other side of the ship, carrying Chris, Marcus took Doug’s place. As he took his place, Marcus turned to me, tears in his eyes. “What if we actually die here, Donald? What if our ship goes down, and we drown or get shot to death?” I gulped. To be honest, what Marcus said was what seemed to be about to happen. But to encourage him, I said, “That can’t happen. It just can’t. Chris won’t die, we won’t die, and it’ll be the Journey that sinks, not the Brave. I can tell. It just won’t happen like that.” Marcus nodded and turned back to his cannon. I couldn’t tell if my talk had helped him at all, but there were more pressing matters at the moment. The Brave was actually starting to sink! “It’s no good! Retreat!” shouted Captain Woods. “Get to the lifeboats and get out of here!” Everyone ran for the lifeboats, and Doug joined us midway, carrying a still-unconscious Chris, but with the combined efforts of cannons and rifles, the Journey shot all our lifeboats to bits. Captain Thompson was laughing his head off. “It looks like this is the end for you, Brave! Don’t worry! You had a fine-” His taunt was cut off as a cannonball suddenly soared through the air and took his head off. The crew of the Journey screamed in horror, while the crew of the Brave looked around rapidly for our savior. It soon became clear. Emerging from the distance was the Precious! I nearly fell over in shock. “But they sank!” sputtered Richard. “And don’t they hate us?” cried Shawn. “Forget that! Let’s get out of here!” shouted Captain Woods. Another cannonball fired from the Precious, and this one took off a chunk of the front of the Journey. “How are you all doing today?” shouted a familiar voice. I stared in bewilderment at the front of the Precious. The voice had come from the captain, and I recognized this person. But the last time I had seen him, he had been just a crew member. “Russell?” I called in shock. “The one and only!” he called back. “Good to see you, Don!” Richard pushed to the front of our mini-crowd. “You ran out on me and knocked me out!” he screamed furiously. Russell sighed. “We had to get out. We promised that we would help you one day, and here’s our opportunity! Guys, come to the front and say hello!” The rest of the crew waved at us. Russell continued to talk. “I became the captain! But since we would only have two crew members, we decided that we didn’t need cabin boys, so we had two become crew members, one became the first mate, and one became the navigator!” “That’s all very good and all, but would you mind helping us? Our ship is about to sink!” said Captain Woods gruffly. Russell looked puzzled. “Sinking?” A crew member pushed to the front of the crew. I recognized him as Aiden, the prisoner who had knocked Richard out. “Your ship’s not sinking at all,” he said. “It is damaged a bit,” explained another crew member who I remembered as Gavin. “But it’s not going to sink. However, I don’t think it’ll be able to sail.” Russell’s puzzled look changed back to a pleasant one. “Well then, we’ll just give you a tow!” “Okay, then how about helping us with these-” Captain Woods was interrupted with the firing of several cannonballs and rifles. And while we had been distracted, three crew members had may their way across the rope and onto the ship. “Sink that ship!” cried Russell, and the crew of the Precious continued to fire their cannons. I suddenly wondered how the Precious could have just rebuilt itself, as it had sunk the last time we saw it. Then I realized there were some new features on this ship, and it hit me that they must have gotten a new copy of the Precious. A bullet suddenly flew only a few feet above my head, bringing me back to my senses. Everyone on the Brave had given up on the cannons and grabbed rifles from the barrel, so I did as well. Meanwhile, the Precious opened fire on the Journey with their cannons. On the Brave, most of the bullets were missing badly. One of Shawn’s bullets almost took the head of one of the invaders off, but he ducked and slid just in time. Finally, with our combined power, multiple bullets hit the same target, and we gunned down one of the crew members. Chris, who was lying on the deck in the back, was slowly regaining consciousness. Then suddenly, there was a scream. Captain Woods had gotten hit in the stomach. “Captain!” everyone screamed. “Get him to the back!” shouted Cory, and Doug rushed him to the back with Chris had started to tend to the wound. Everyone was filled with motivation after that, and we easily gunned down the last two crewmen. No one else had crossed the rope, so we took to the cannons again, and along with the Precious, who had much better cannon accuracy than us, we easily sank the ship. When it was over, there was only one crew member and one cabin boy left. They were stuck swimming in the water, and they had lost their rifles. “Please don’t kill us!” screamed the crew member. “I’m too young to die!” cried the cabin boy. He really was quite young, only fifteen, and the crewman was only around twenty-five. “Maybe we should spare them,” I suggested loudly so Russell would hear. “Fine, then. What’s your name?” “I’m Bobby, and this is Aaron,” panted the crewman. “Yes, please spare us!” Russell looked thoughtful. Then he turned to the crew of the Precious. “What do you think, boys?” On the Precious, there were really mixed feelings. On the Brave, most people seemed to want to spare them. But suddenly, Richard pushed past everyone and murdered Bobby and Aaron with his rifle. Both crews gasped. “What did you that for, you idiot?!” shrieked William. “You monster!” screamed a cook on the Precious. Richard seemed unfazed. “Nonsense, William! We are much too nice to our prisoners! And you!” he screamed, pointing at the cook. “You don’t even know me, so don’t you go criticizing me for decisions that aren’t yours!” The cook snorted. “My name’s Ronald, by the way,” he chuckled. “First of all, I’m not criticizing you. And second, that decision wasn’t yours. I had as much say in it as you did. This is a captain’s decision.” “Our captain’s dying, thanks to you!” cried Richard. Ronald’s eyes widened. “He’s dying thanks to us?” “You should have shot the gunmen down before the ship!” screamed Richard. Ronald looked incredulous at how ridiculous Richard was being. “Okay, we saved your life, because your crew has absolutely zero aim. Aim better, by the way! And if we hadn’t shot down the ship, those cannons would have turned that ship into a shipwreck.” Richard just stood there for a second. Then he started to fire at the Precious with a cannon and his rifle at the same time! Scott tackled him to the deck. “What are you doing?!” everyone screamed at him. Richard’s shots had all missed by a mile. The crew of the Precious was laughing their heads off. “See, this is what I was talking about!” cried Ronald, wiping tears from his eyes. “You can’t aim!” The crew of the Brave got together and had a quick chat. “Are they going to be okay?” Marcus asked Doug worriedly. Doug sighed. “It’s too early to tell. We’re lucky they didn’t get hit in the head or anything like that.” “But who’s the new captain?” whispered Theo. “Well, since I’m the first mate, it would be me,” said Cory. “Doug, take Chris and Captain Woods below deck. Oh, and take Richard too.” “What if it’s flooded down there?” asked Doug. Cory looked exasperated. “Then come back up and get on the Precious!” “Got it, um, Captain Rogers!” saluted Doug. Then he scampered downstairs while carrying Chris and Captain Woods. Richard reluctantly followed. Everyone turned back to the Precious. “So our ship won’t be able to sail?” called Cory. “That’s right,” replied Russell. “But no worries, we’ll give you a tow!” “A tow?” cried Ronald. “That’s fine, but I’m not helping that jerk below deck!” “Come on now, Ronald,” chided Russell. “You’re not the captain, and we must help them!” “You kind of realize these guys tried to kill us?” cried Ronald. “You were trying to kill us first!” screamed Shawn, but Cory hushed him up quickly. “Whatever happened in the past, it’s all water under the bridge,” said Russell. “It’s time to tow! Aiden! Thomas! Bring out the towing hook!” And yeah, now we’re being towed to New York City, as Cory gave Russell instructions on where to go. Apparently, it won’t take very long. I’ve just finished lunch, and now I’ll just wander around the deck and talk to people.
8:03pm: It’s dark by now, and the Brave is just moving along swiftly behind the Precious. I chatted with some crew members of the Precious in the afternoon. Richard’s been grumpy the whole time, and he refused to come up for dinner, but instead demanded that someone bring it down to the cabins. I took pity on him and brought the steak, rice, and water down to Richard’s cabin. Meanwhile, Doug’s pretty much spent the whole afternoon checking on Captain Woods and Chris. Chris is looking good by now, and he can speak normally, but Doug said that he should rest until the morning. Captain Woods is still unconscious, though, but Doug said there’s a good chance he’ll be conscious the following night, and it’s nothing to worry about. Yeah, so Cory’s the captain now, and he demands that we call him Captain Rogers, so okay, I don’t really care. And after that, Doug demanded that he be called Doctor Porter full-time. I recall that I called him that for a short amount of time earlier in the diary. And apparently, Russell’s last name is Johnson, so now we have to call him Captain Johnson all the time. Also, the first mate on the Precious is named Thomas Sprout, and he doubles as the doctor, so now we have Doctor Sprout. This is just great. I’m starting to think that all these flashy titles are starting to get ridiculous. Oh, wow. I was going to have an early bed, but Shawn’s started to sing again. Forget it. I’ll just wander around a bit more.
See more stories by Eric