JASERACK

JASERACK

Chapter 1

SHIPS OF WOOD AND MEN OF STEEL

In a bar, in a port
Where sailors cavort
Sat a man with one arm and one leg
And around him were those,
In seafaring clothes,
Who were pouring dark rum from a keg.

His red vesseled face
Stood out with some grace
From the crowd, that gathered round.
They were egging him on
by singing a song
and swaying back and forth to the sound.

With no tip to his nose
And only partial ear lobes
He seemed a wreck of a man;
But his manner soon taught
With a round of drinks bought
His company was much in demand.

"Pray tell us Jack,"
Said one from the pack,
"About the first ship you served."
But no sooner said
Then they all looked with dread;
Who was this guy with such nerve?

They were all quiet now
But the new man took a bow
And said, "What's the trouble mates?
I just asked for a story
About fortune and glory
And seafaring men and their fate."

"Aye," said Jack
as he pushed back his hat,
"It's a story you want and I'll tell
About my first ship,"
As he took a deep sip
And savored his rum very well.

All the sailors looked on
With the silence of dawn.
Some drew closer to Jack
To hear the strange tale
Of those who sailed
On his very first ship: Jaserack.

With the squint of one eye
He began coarse and dry
The most dreaded and feared recitation
Of seafaring men,
Of which eight or ten
Were sitting in mild adulation.

I was sixteen, a boy
And feeling the joy
Of shipping my very first time.
An old brigantine
But still quite a queen
Which I took to be a good sign.

She would be gone a year
Hunting seals, a career,
Held in high esteem by most
For gentlemen's hats
And exotic fats
And a sought after shipboard roast.

I reported aboard
And was quickly floored
By the first mate who was a bit rank.
As I now recall
He was quite large and tall
And swaggered as a man who drank.

"Don't you know boy
How to say ship ahoy
and salute when you come aboard?
How to ask for permission
Or show your commission?"
And at that the hands on deck roared.

As the butt of their joke
I shuddered and spoke
"You bastard!" under my breath
Then rose to my feet,
Wiped the blood from my cheek
and wished for the mate's timely death.

The second mate spoke,
"It's just a joke.
Grab your gear and follow me."
I walked through the group
With sea bag, in a stoop.
"It'll be okay, you'll see."

For a moment I saw
A slight tightening of jaw
As the first mate's eyes met the second
But the second mate smiled,
In a manner self-styled
To avoid trouble which most were expecting.

The second mate's name?
Whaler McCain,
A man who well knew the ropes.
He renewed my spirits,
When he said so I'd hear it,
"Kid has to start eating his oats."

"Your bunking right here
At the first cable tier
So you're sure to feel all the motion.
It's your first time at sea
And if you listen to me
You'll live to sail on this ocean."

"Stay clear the first mate
and you may live to rate
A birth with the regular crew.
Cross Mister Drake
And that one mistake
May be the last that you do."

On the pier were the ladies,
Some wives and some steadies
Of the men of this old sailing ship.
All waving their arms
with a last show of charms
To the sailors leaving on their sea trip.

"Single up all lines,"
Drake's call rang like chimes.
"Look lively there, mates. Cast off!"
The sails opened wide,
The blue sky to hide,
With billowing canvas aloft.

We edged from our port
With a caution of sort.
Slowly we gathered the wind.
As the land fell behind
We left those of our kind
For adventure, fortune and gin.

The days turned to weeks.
I cleaned cabins and peaks
But never once saw the captain.
His state room door closed
And just dirty clothes
That made me wonder what happened.

The first mate alone
Would go on his own
To knock and enter his cabin.
Each time this occurred
He looked more unnerved
And gave orders and headings and fathoms.

The Whaler and me
Turned out to be
Fast shipmates of a sort.
He gave the orders,
I cleaned the quarters
And gave him a daily report.

A harpooner by trade,
Whaler seemed unafraid
Of this change of appetite.
As the ships second mate
The percentage was great,
And officers always ate right.

As I tossed and turned,
One night with concern
For the exotic ports I was missing,
I heard movement afoot,
And got up to look
At what goblins about decks had risen.

I crept right around
Hardly making a sound
To the officer's cabins close
And there on the floor
At the small galley door
Was a figure in strange repose.

There by candle light
Was a shadowy sight
Crouched on the floor in night clothes.
Its low crawling form
Struck my soul with alarm
And presented a damned frightening pose.

I hid between gables
Remembering fables
While peeping from shadowy doors
And watched him there
With long, shaggy hair
As he examined the ship's wooden floors.

He moved slowly the candle,
Held a knife by the handle
And stabbed the floor without sound.
At last a reaction.
With some satisfaction
He held to the light something brown.

Without malice or thought
About what he had caught
He held squirming bug to the flame
And watched it burn
Each side in turn
And popped it into his mouth to remain.

He looked round a bit
And with candle still lit
Rose in a painful stature,
All stooped through the back
Like one stretched on the rack
Or a man deformed by deep rapture.

He turned round toward me
So that I could full see
A face of pitiable sight,
Like an ogre in pain
And driven insane
By the forces of evil delight.

His teeth quite vile
held a perpetual smile
And his skull was irregular in form.
With no lips to speak
Or eyelids to seek
Relief in sleep, though worn.

I then felt compassion
In a pitiful fashion
For this wretched victim of sin,
With body so broken
And face just a token
Of what it once must have been.

He turned and hobbled
As he continued to gobble
The bug that he held so dear.
As he moved down the aisle
I cracked a slight smile
And felt a small easing of fear.

The next morning I woke
To a merciless poke
In the ribs at reveille.
It was the big Whaler,
My obedient jailer,
Spitting out orders at me.

I just couldn't wait
To tell what was ate
Last night not far from his door.
"Guess what happened last night
And what kind of a sight
Was on our old galley floor?"

But instead of a grin,
A drop of his chin
Let me know something was wrong.
He grabbed my arm
With an absence of charm
And whispered two words, "Captain Long."

"Captain?" I said,
With a shake of my head.
"Just a beggar on deck eating bugs.
The most damned ugly wretch
I've seen in a stretch
Save a corpse, in port, killed by thugs."

"Shut up you fool.
He's a damned ugly ghoul.
He alone survived his last crew.
They say, low on food,
He killed and then chewed
Shipmates so that he might get through."

I stood looking blank.
From my throat, my heart sank.
I swallowed and stood there amazed.
"You mean that deformed old man,
All burned and turned tan,
Is the captain who's loony and crazed?"

"Crazed he may be,
But loony, we'll see.
Upon his return from that trip
He had enough gold
For this craft, though she's old,
and to finance a voyage on this ship."

"The first mate and I,
And now you, young guy,
Only know the truth that I speak.
There's no seal skins to load
And no salt in the hold.
It's a treasure ship that we seek."

"His skin isn't burned
And his habits are learned
from that fateful day through the sound.
His vessel found ice
Sailing through bad advice
And stumbled on a treasure, ice bound.

"He was near frozen when found
On an aimless ship bound
For nowhere on a sea of ice.
The crew disappeared
And everyone feared
He'd survived by a ghoulish device."

"His brown fleshless skin
Is from frost bite and wind
And the trials of a voyage of ill-fate.
And we both better pray
That there's not such a day
For you, young man and this mate."

"But whether he's crazy?
Maybe so, but still cagey.
He alone knows the treasure location.
a ship in ice fountains
Ringed by glacier mountains
And he won't share that information."

The second mate left,
All out of breath
With a flinch on start in his eye.
And as for me,
I'd just wait and see
What more I could learn by and by.

"Aye mates. Those were the days.
Ships of wood and men of steel.
By the way,
Does anyone know how an empty mug feels?"

"Take up a collection,
Buy him two kegs.
Get on with the story,
Please, for God's sakes!"

"Oh yes, shipmate.
A nice sentiment indeed!
Buy me two kegs,
Now where was I? Let's see."

Robert E Browne

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