“Can’t wait ta get on dry land”, I said. “Lookin’ forward to a real bed”, I said.
Couldn’t’a been more wrong! Waitin’ fer this ship ta be done’s like waitin’ in th’afterlife fer me just reward. It’s so blasted ‘ot ’ere, and there’s ‘ardly enough water fer to be goin’ around. On top o’ that, the beer’s foul.
An’ we’ve ‘ad enough excitement today to last us, that’s the truth.
First were the wasps. Big as carts, they was. Come out of the jungle, slaverin’ wi’ poisonous drool an’ stuff. Carried off a bunch o’ these shipwrights, an’ we was almost with ‘em, but Black ’Ands used Besmara’s Tricorne to make a cover for us. ‘Ee knew it’d only work fer one o’ Queen Bes’s worshipers, an’ you shoulda ‘eard ’im yellin’ at Bert, tryin’ ta get the poor lug ta convert o’ the spot, right while ‘ee were sword-deep in a giant wasp. Funniest thing I seen since they started keepin’ Scourge locked up, that’s fer sure.
Anyhoo, after the wasps’d gone, there’s this big Chelish flute i’ th’ estuary. Floatin’ there pretty as a friar’s penny, just fer all the world like nothin’s goin’ on and there ain’t giant wasps invadin’.
Turns out it’s Cap’n Pegsworthy, a true free cap’n o’ the Shackles. ’ee’s come in without peepin’ th’ Man’s Promise. So we got this problem, now. ‘Cos ’ee’s seen the ship, ‘alfway through the squibbin’, which pretty much does away wi’ the whole point o’ squibbin ‘er i’ the first place.
No matter. ‘Ee seemed like a good sort, so we let ’im stick around an’ share a little grog. Meanwhile, Black ‘Ands, Perri an’ Bert went off up th’ ‘ill ta see whass up wi’ the lookout what were supposed to stop mixups like this from ‘appenin’.
Turns out ’ee’d died o’ somethin’-or-other. None o’ the boys ‘ad a clue what’d put ‘im in the dead-book though. Not to worry, they brought back two fresh boars… and it probably wasn’t poison boar meat what killed ’im. Right? Probably not.