A Pirate’s Last Minutes

“Sir! She’s sprung a leak!” The first mate dashed into the pirate Captain’s cabin, flushed and out of breath.

The Captain raised a scowling face. “Man the pumps then! You know what to do!”

“This is no ordinary leak, sir. She’s going fast!”

“Whad’ya mean, she’s goin’?” The Captain followed the words with a string of curses and then nearly bowled his mate over as he rushed topside. “All hands on deck! Man the pumps! Full force!”

The next instant he was down in the hull with the mate beside him, pointing out the leak. The Captain’s face twisted in rage. “Who did that? That’s no leak. We’ve been scuttled! Who had the last watch?”

The mate shifted uneasily. Water poured in, soaking both men’s boots, but neither seemed to notice. At last he muttered, “Billy was at the tiller.”

“Billy?! That good for nothin’… Lazy – I’ll make him pay! Probably did it a purpose – wants us all ta drown!”

The mate was about to reply, but instead he ejaculated, “Good heavens! We’re sinking!” The words ended in a kind of scream. For the water was now rushing furiously in, threatening to sweep both off their feet.

“Shut your mouth!” the Captain spat, climbing topside again and ignoring his dripping garments.

At that moment the ship tilted violently, sending both men along with several other pirates into the scuppers. Billy fell too, slamming into the Captain.

“You! – You did this!” The Captain grabbed the unfortunate cabin boy by the neck.
Billy shuddered, turning terrified eyes to the Captain’s ferocious look.

“Well?! Answer me!”

With sudden boldness the boy spoke up. “I did do it.”

“Treason! Mutiny! You’ll pay for this!”

“Of course he will,” the mate grumbled. “We’re all goin’ to the bottom!”

“I’ll make sure Billy gets there first!” the Captain exclaimed, swearing again.
Another lurch of the ship freed Billy from the Captain’s grasp for a second and he scrambled to his feet, desperately climbing toward the prow which was now pointing to the sky.

Cries and shouts resounded through the ship, which had now begun to sink in earnest. And yet for all their desperate plight, the pirates only quarreled and fought with each other, eager to prolong their miserable lives by as many minutes as they could, even if it meant sending another to his death. The more reckless dove into the rum supply, determined to drown in drink for the last few minutes before they really drowned.

Slowly the ship sank lower and lower, and now many of the pirates, forced to realize their plight, screamed in terror. Those who had sent so many to their deaths were unwilling to go themselves.

Above deck the Captain pulled himself aft by main force, practically tearing the boards, almost foaming at the mouth in his impotent rage. Billy clung to the bowsprit, unsure whether to face the Captain’s fury or spring overboard at once. He shuddered as he looked down into the water, and, opening his clasp knife, resolved to defend himself.
Ropes and bits of iron slid down the decks along with other miscellany. The Captain lost his hold – caught it again – and in desperation, pulled out his pistol.

Billy shuddered and tried to shrink into as small a target as possible.

The next instant a heavy sack smashed into the Captain’s legs and with a terrible cry he crashed headlong into the churning water.

And now the ship had almost completely sunk, and Billy was left alone. A sudden silence – an eerie silence – succeeded the fearful shouts. Billy climbed farther up the bowsprit until he was perched as high atop it as possible.

He had done it, and he thought his own life was a small price to pay for the blessing of ridding the sea of such a scourge. But other thoughts came to him in those moments that seemed like a life time as he straddled the rough timber, knife still in hand. After all, the quick, almost painless death to which he had sent his comrades seemed a poor repayment for their actions. They would have died, eventually, anyways – he had only hastened it by a year or two – and was that all? For all their villainy, for all their injustice, for having taken him, still a little child, and made him virtually their slave, dragging him through unspeakable horror? …hate surged through him, and he half cursed himself for taking such a poor and flavorless vengeance.

Then he thought of the deeds he himself had taken pleasure in doing, and loathed himself as heartily as any of his companions.

Was this all life had? Was there no real justice? The thought was intolerable to him. Far better to stand condemned, as he knew he would be, then to think that in the end, wrong would win.

But perhaps… perhaps… could mercy be found? Even for him?

The still, silent waters closed over the pirate ship, leaving no trace.