⛵ ⛵ ⛵ ⛵...(Tour of "High Island")...
“We almost forgot, who ur we gonna chose ta replace uir look-oot- Tuna?"
“Hmmm…has ta be someone stout. It’s rough up thaur…” The Captain said in deep thought.
Then, almost in perfect unison, they turned towards each other and both said…
“Haw! Haw! Haw!” The Captain smiled at the thought, “Perfect!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
[A small village in Zanzibar…]
Trying to pitch-in and help in the labor was difficult with only one hand and a bad limp, but the Jinn did what he could to keep the morale high amongst the villagers.
The weeks and months and passed quickly for him in the company of Amal and her brother Saleem. They had treated him like family and had nursed his wounded body and heart back to health….
“How many men will you ask for volunteers?” Saleem asked him as they watched the work commence just after sunrise.
“At least forty-five.” The Jinn said, not taking his eyes off of the project.
“Sword and bow skills we have, but how do you expect to defeat Husam without cannon?”
The Jinn turned slowly towards him and put his only hand upon his shoulder and smiled, “I shall get cannon my friend, at least seven. Perhaps it will not be a full War Dhow, but we shall be fast and we will have one thing on our side that Husam does not have…” He said as he squinted his eyes down.
“What is that?”
[On the Silverton, two miles north of the coast of Rum…]
“Isnae she bonnie!" Boy Gholdingsllc said as he gazed over the port-side rail at the rising slopes of the Isle of Rum.
“Aye she is, a real gem in th' roogh! Ahh wish we waur goin’ ashair!" Boy Enstless replied.
“They'll be nae shair leave fur a while mates..." Seaman Landsman Avedickeyyall said as he walked over to the rail, “Ahh heard Commander Galligan say th' Captain's in a real coorie tae git oot ower open brine!"
“Open brine?!” Enstless said in surprise, “Ye mean we're crossin' th' Atlantic?!"
“Ahh’m nae sure, but we'll be 'Ootland' somewhaurs fur certain!"
Enstless glanced over at Gholdingsllc with anxiety…
“Have ye ever bin Ootland? No shore in sight?!”
“A coople of times in th' Indian Brine, but nae fur mair than a day ur two." Gholdingsllc said quietly.
[Down in the Chartroom…]
“Once past Castlebay, it's aw Ootlain fur th' next fower weeks until we reach ooter Newfoundland…” The Captain said as he stoked-up his pipe and lit it as he and Galligan sat looking at the large blue chart on the table.
“Fock th' day! Th' crew's ne'er bin Ootlain 'att lang!" Galligan said as he took a deep breath.
“Nae, they’s havenae…” The Captain replied calmly.
“Sairrr… wa’ th' rush? Coods nae we sail north-west an' put-to in Icelain fur a week ur so? Let th' men git their feet back oan th' ground fur a wee bit?" Galligan asked.
“Nae. Winter's comin'. Ahh dornt want tae be anywhaur near th' North Atlantic when 'att braw bear comes clawin' sooth!" The Captain said as he let out a plume of blue smoke in the shape of a bear.
“An' if we burst fool weather, 'att fower weeks coods stretch oot ta seven ur eight..." Galligan worried as he ran his finger along the long expanse of blue on the chart.
“Keptin, Ootlain will take its toll! Some of th' men will git th' sea madness!" Galligan exclaimed with a wrinkled brow.
“Some might…” The Captain replied with a grim admonition.
⛵ ⛵ ⛵ ⛵
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References: Pictures from: Intaglio 'Molan Labe' silver round, www.freeimages.com, www.pexels.com, pixabay.com, steemit.com an’ www.google.com/maps. Data loosely interpretted froms: Wikipedia, an' sometimes finely crafted reit from th' author's extensiff personal experience an' such.