⛵ ⛵ ⛵ ⛵...(Tour of "High Island")...
[Last times...]
Time passed quickly and the dancing only brought on more thirst. Callum watched with careful eyes as one by one the warriors became greatly intoxicated. Commander Nabil too was now feeling the drink as he joined them in dance. The village girls circled and swirled about them and the men cheered and clapped their hands.
“Mair bevvy! Mair bevvy!” Callum called in a devious voice out as the villagers ran back to the supply hut for refills.
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[Moroni Village, Comoros Island…]
The tiny Karthala White-Eye tilted it’s head to the right and to the left in lightning fast movement. It then moved forward in quick little hops, one, two, three-four-five! Cocking it’s eye a bit, it then pecked at it’s target tenaciously…
The early rising sun sparkled on the surface of the silver buckle like a morning star and the Karthala White-Eye was mesmerized!
Slowly Commander Nabil opened one eye…and then the other. A great menacing pain throbbed in his head and he blinked twice before lifting his head. Immediately the Karthala White-Eye stopped it’s pecking and twisted it’s watchful eye in the direction of the strange creature before him...
”Auugh! Go away! Get off!” The bleary-eyed Arab sailor blurted as he swung his hand across his chest and sent the Karthala off, soaring effortlessly over the lagoon.
Lifting his pounding head higher, he turned slightly, and blinked his eyes again as his vision cleared. Next to him in an unconsciously slumber lay a young village dancer, her shapely legs sprawling across his own. Further away, the sleeping shapes of his warriors came into view, one by one. Intermingled amongst them, other young villagers sprawled out like a scattered ballet.
Pushing himself up on one elbow, he ran his hand through his muddled hair and finally, finding his officer's hat in the sand beside him, placed it back on his head as he sat upright. The sudden move was almost too much and the aftermath of the strong Cratur Whiskey welled up in his skull like a toxic wave!
“Oooh….” He moaned slightly as he gently removed the legs of the young villager from on top of his own and pivoted towards the beach.
At first, the calm lapping of the gentle waves of the blue lagoon soothed him. But soon his relief disappeared abruptly! The waters of the lagoon were placid and unscathed. Too placid! Where was the War Dhow?! Gone…gone!
He bolted up and struggled to get his feet underneath him! His first attempt ended in a thud as he fell backward on the sand in a dizzy tumult! Pushing himself upright a second time, he finally regained his feet and stood in utter dismay at what he was not seeing! The War Dhow was surely gone!
In a wobbly jog he made his way between the sleeping bodies and out onto the small dock. Standing on it’s well weathered boards he gazed out across the empty lagoon…
“خونة! المخادعون! لعن الله يوم ولدت!"
He yelled in a shaky voice as he clenched his fists and held them high about his head!
[Fifteen miles northwest of Comoros Island, Indian Ocean…]
Captain Callum MacCullagh smiled as the strong easterly filled the big sail of the Dhow to it’s fullest. The vessel heaved to the starboard slightly as it’s long, sleek, black hull sliced through the deep blue water.
On the small main deck below, the eight villagers who volunteered for the voyage worked the running lines as best they could with what experience they had. None of them had ever been on a vessel of this size and Callum grinned at their antics…
“That’s it! Keep 'att portside clootie-line taught in thes win’! Ne'er min' th' rear ties! Loosen 'att cross-spar tether mair men! That’s it! Lit it bend!”
The village men scampered to and fro and soon the big dhow was taking full advantage of the wind…
“Not much o’ a fightin' ship…” Callum remarked outloud to himself as he gazed down at the nine pounders wet with ocean spray, “But she’s fest! Gawd, she’s fest! Ha-Ha!”
As the warm winds of the Comoros channel flowed across the decks of the dhow, the nine men on board rode in high spirits. With a full hull of food and water and over twelve hundred ounces of fine Seychelles silver rupees in her teak-chest, the big war Dhow set it’s course for Dar es Salaam… Tanzania.
⛵ ⛵ ⛵ ⛵
Vocab fur lainlubbers:
'att (that)
aliff (alive)
cratur (Scotch)
clootie (cloth)
dowie (sad)
een (eyes)
fest (fast)
fower (four)
guidman (husband)
hain (hand)
haur (here)
hen (girl)
hodden (cheap, common)
in the name of the wee man (oh my God-similar)
jiggin' (dancing)
ken (know)
lit (let)
mair (more)
min' (mind)
ne'er (never)
noo (now)
och (oh)
onie (any)
ootwith (out from)
pooch (pocket)
renk (rank)
swatch (look)
tint (lost)
urr (are)
win' (wind)
yak (eye)
yin (one)
yoo (you)
⛵ ⛵ ⛵ ⛵
"Wussatt?! Ye dornt ken whit a Karthal White-Eye is?! Potzblitz! They's everwhaurs in Comoros! Lit me tells ye...
Th' Karthala White-Eye, also knoon as th' Moont Karthala White-Eye, ur Comoro, is a species o' spyug in th' Comoros chain an' sae forth. As suggested by its nam, it is endemic tae Philippia Heath woodlain, growin' oan Moont Karthala, oan th' Islain of Grain Comair in th' Comoros.
Moont Karthala is an actiff volcanar an' eruptions pose a serioos threat tae th' little dobber! Th' Karthala is further threatened by th' ever pressin' nati'es.
The spyug is approximately fife inches lang wi' oliff colur upperparts an' yellow-green underpants. It has a white rin' aroond its yak. Its diet consists mainly of fruits an' beasties. Thuar ye havs it muckers!" 😉 -Keptin
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"Confused? Ascared? Seasick? Need a private chat with the Captain?" - Skelp th' 'Reply' button!"
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References: Pictures from: www.freeimages.com, www.pexels.com, pixabay.com, steemit.com, Wikipedia an’ www.google.com/maps. Data loosely interpretted froms: Wikipedia, an' sometimes finely crafted reit from th' author's extensiff personal experience an' such.
🦅 📝 "Ahh've hud an interestin' question come in froms aff ship! Whit was it? Weel, a cheil was askin' wa' he wisnae makin' crew?! An' was thaur onie trick tae it? Trick?! Nae mucker, nae tricks. But, Ahh will admit thes true fact...the longer a toor goes oan, th' harder it is tae make 'crew'! It's a true fact. An' ance ye ur crew, it's huir uv a stoaner tae be removed froms crew! (Unless o' coorse yer a treasonoos, cowardly dobber!!) Ahh givs those lads th' lang sweem! An' thaur ye haves it!"🤨 -Keptin
I could use a shot of authentic Cratur Whiskey. "ere's swatchin at yea Keptin, t' ye guud 'ealth!"
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"Thenk ye Lass! Aye, Cratur is grand!
Ahh hears th' colonies ur in a tizzy tha' moorns night aboot a Turkey th' Nati'es gav 'em. Let's hiner it goes weel! (An' dorn't be bringin' th' fesh-yak plague tae th' table an' sae forth.)" 😋 -Keptin