A tale of shipwreck in 300 words
5 minutes
“As you see sir, our wharehouse is filled with a ship’s necessities. Come join me in a tumbler of this most excellent rum, while your Bo’sun secures your needs.
“If I’d payed attention to my father’s words, I’d have left the village when those navy spies were spotted, and missed the press-gang that took off every sea-faring man to serve in the fleet up against Bonaparte. To keep together, we villagers volunteered for the Indies, thinking to get French prize money, and to return rich men. But one night a great storm with towering waves brought down the main, and drove us onto a lee shore. We were wrecked like Robinson Crusoe; but unlike that lonely soul, we were a half dozen survivors, all villagers, plus an officer. Though this officer made the grave mistake of believing his writ still held. He drowned quick enough when held down in a tide pool, begging your pardon, sir.
“The beach was littered with cases and timbers from the wreck. We salvaged all we could find use for, and perhaps to later sell. As practical fisher-folk we were quick with building shelter and at reaping the sea. We soon had time on our hands and fell to seeking out what might prove to be profitable when rescue came. We were a hive of industry, making copra mats with the abundant cocoa-nuts, smoking fish and making pemmican. When we finally spotted sail, and attracted rescue, we negotiated passage to the Guyana coast for ourselves and our goods. Here we set up trade, and this is the prosperous state you find us in sir, six English merchants in this heathen land.
“I see you like the rum, sir, it is but 6/- a tun.”
[I’ve not published for several weeks, and am restarting with a shorter piece.]
writesimon 