8.4 Racing Against Time

DD,

When the weather changed, it was fast and furious. The blessed rain fell in torrents. I drank my fill again and again even as I scrambled to keep the Wet Hen from capsizing. I could neither think nor write, so desperate was my race against the buffeting wind. I couldn't say how far or how long she sailed before the storm blew itself out.

When it did, I was exhausted. My water casks were full, yet I'd eaten every scrap of food before the storm blew in. I feared might not live to see dry land again.

And then, the joy!  The relief! An island off the port bow!

But that is a story for another time. Here I examine the scrap of a map that I hope will buy my freedom.

Footsteps approach! I will hide you now, DD. I cannot risk their knowing what is in my heart.

Chapter 9: Il Pollo del Mare

Pete, the craggy parrot, released me from the hold. He has been my jailer since the Wishbone rescued me some days ago.

I was permitted a turn on deck for air and exercise, and how wonderful it was to be out-of-doors again!  From the tiny port hole in my cabin below I can see little but a patch of sky. But there, on deck, I reveled in the vast expanse of sea, and wondered idly how far we had come from my little Wet Hen's wreck, now resting on the sea floor.

Today I did get to meet the crew and the Wishbone's famous captain. Il Pollo del Mare is as handsome as I'd heard and far kinder than I thought he would be. He is quite charming really. I am invited to dine at his table tonight! 

9.2 Thrilling and Flattering

At sea aboard the Wishbone

I had expected to dine with a rough, uncultured individual. Instead, in Il Pollo del Mare I met a courtly, educated bird. As we discovered, he has even seen me perform!

It's rather thrilling to know that an outlaw with a price on his head would disguise himself to sneak into port just to catch my performances! Such admiration is deeply flattering.

I confessed to following the breathless accounts of his exploits in the press with great interest. It turns out, he came to rule the waves by accident, really -- by another turn of fate, he would still be the Wishbone's third galley mate instead of her captain.

9.3 Over dinner

I assumed he would be a cocky, arrogant, buccaneer, but Il pollo del mare is nothing like that. Tonight over a dinner of grain and fresh rain water, we talked and laughed and swapped stories – his of the sea and mine of the stage.

9.4 I nearly wept

The captain told me his story over dinner. How he was born on a farm not far from my home barnyard – such a charming coincidence – and how he yearned to go to sea from the day he left the shell. How he ran away as soon as he was old enough and secured an apprenticeship on a trader.

Soon after they embarked a terrible epidemic swept the ship! I can imagine the sorrow he felt, burying one after another of his shipmates at sea. Finally, he was the only survivor.

I nearly wept when he told me this. I truly understand the difficulties one faces drifting about at sea all alone.

Then, drifting alone on the ocean his ship was beset by pirates! Somehow, though, he tricked them, and took over their ship -- along with its valuable cargo. He became instantly famous as the feared and nefarious pirate Il pollo del mare.