“Well m’lads, tis a quiet night on the seas tonight, the moon shines bright, and there’s a fair breeze t’carry us across the seas. ‘Tis a good night f’tellin’ tales.”
How many of ye ha’ heard the tale o’ Th’ Skellington Crew? That’s all of ye?? Only four of a whole crew of pirate lads? What’s th’ world comin’ to? Next ye’ll be tellin’ me that none o’ ye ha’ heard o’ Le Gargouille o’ th’ Seine River over in th’ Frenchies’ country!! None o’ ye ha’ heard of th’ Dragon o’ th’ Seine?? What’s them schools’ teachin’ ye?? Arithmetic?? Hah!!! Not one o’ can steer by the stars!! Nor can ye figger knors wi’ a rope!! Next I’ll be changin’ yer nappies like a bloomin babby!!
Oh, aye, ye all know English, but can any o’ ye speak our mother tongue? I feared that were so. Can ye sing like Chuculain? Nay? Who ever heered of a good lad that canna speak Irish nor sing??
Oh aye, I admit I canna sing, nor can me Mam, she were a Frenchwoman, mebbe even Royalty what wanted t’ escape th’ Revolution. M ’Pa were from County Cork, aye, he were a true Irishman. He could speak Irish, French, and English. He could sing th’ angels from Heaven, and he danced a fine jig until th’ Irish Disease took ‘im.
Now, me Mam, she’s th’ one what taught me t’cook. Aye, ye’ve a Frenchwoman t’ thank for th’ good food in yer bellies. She also taught me t’ be a healer. Aye, she were s’posed t’ be Royalty, her Pa were doctor t’ th’ King and Queen theirselves. Now, ye’ve gotten me off track…
Yes, ‘t’were m’ Mam told me about that Gargouille, she tole me that it were ugly as can be, and it were because o’ the Gargouille that th’ divvils were kep’ at bay. It were th’ Gargouille’s terrible phiz that scared awa’ th’ divvils.
That weren’t the tale I wanted t’tell ye, I wanted t’warn ye about th’ Skellington Crew. Oh. Aye, ‘tis more’n a tale for drunkards in th’ pub t’garble for more o’ th’ juice o’ the barley.
There were a fine pirate ship, th’ Secret Cove she were, she plied her trade east o’ our lanes. I knewed her Captain many a year ago, I weren’t aboard th’ Calabar then. On what were her last voyage, they sailed wi’ a full crew, a good crew. Most of ‘em had been aboard her fer three or four voyages already.
Her Captain was a good lady, She could steer a big ship through the worst o’ reefs and not s’much as knock a barnacle off’n th’ hull. She knew what a crew needed to serve well, and stay loyal t’ their ship.
So, th ’Mossy Oak sailed out’n the Harbour o’ Haiti bound fer the high seas and treasures t’be won. She were due back in by Christmas, and she never come back.
It were five years later, after th’ Divvil’s Lady claimed the route o’ th’ Secret Cove, that a terrible calm fell on th’seas. Fer almost a fortnight there were no winds atall. Every ship stood where she were on glassy water.
Th’ days were long and tempers were short. Every captain were nigh onto tearin’ their hair out in frustration and the doctors were usin’ every trick they knew to stay any mutinous thoughts. At last, on one night a dense fog covered most o’ th’ seas thereabouts and th’ Divvil’s Lady’s crew were cheerin’, hopin’ it boded winds t’follow.
They were sippin their grog and singing loud when the fog parted and another ship hove into view. A dread silence fell over th’ crew as they saw the name on th’ other ship.
Th’ Secret Cove it were, wi’ sails furled and runnin’ silent. Th’ Secret Cove drew closer and the lads o’ th’ Divvil’s Lady were frozen in fear. For there were no crewmen, only skellingtons aboard her. Shinin’ white bones and grinnin’ skulls.
The phosphor on th’ water was brightest around th’ hull o’ th’ Secret Cove. One o’ th’ lads took to cryin’ out like a banshee, and tearin’ at his hair. By th time th’ Secret Cove sailed past and disappeared back into th’ fog half th’ crew were babblin’ in fright, and th’ rest were not far behind.
The lad what were cryin like a bashee never sailed again after that voyage. He moved as far awa’ from th’ ocean as he could.get. T’ this day th’ Divvil’s Lady willna sail those waters, she has taken t’ bein’ a passenger ship along th’ coast o’ th’ Colonies… excuse me, Amerca.. Th’ captain retired and moved inland and th’ crew all took to landlubber lives and willna speak o’ that night.
How did I learn o’ the Skellington Crew? Why, I tried to heal th’ lad what saw them skellingtons first. I figger that I done everything I could fer th’ lad when he could sleep through th’ night without havin’ nightmares. Now his hair… that were another matter. He had a head full o’ glossy black curls when he left on that awful voyage, when they limped into port he were half-bald, and what hair he still had were white as bones.
Laugh if ye wish, ‘tis true, ask our good captain if ye don’t believe me. Aye, she knows about th’ Secret Cove, and th’ Skellington Crew. She’ll tell ye th’ same tale as I did. She knew th’ captain o’ th’ Divvil’s Lady, an’ th’ Secret Cove.
I’ll tell ye this, our Captain willna go near the Secret Cove’s lanes. None o’ th’ Captains will. If’n I ever seen th’ Secret Cove, I’d be a landlubber for th’ rest o’ m’ days!!
Well now, my mug’s empty an’ so’s m’ pipe. I’ll be biddin’ you lads a good night, an’ start some breakfast f’ mornin’ fer ye.
