Remember in the opening scene, where the Surprise is sailing through the early
morning mists and out of nowhere, she gets a full frontal broadside that rakes
her from stem to stern.
Well, early this morning, my HMS Undine,
which was derived from a Lindberg Jolly Roger kit, suffered a similar
incident. It was riding ever so gracefully at anchor up on a small wall
shelf when all of a sudden, out of the twilight that was just barely showing
through the living room picture window, it was engulfed in a hail of fur,
fangs, and paws.
I was standing in the entryway that leads into the dining room, eyes barely
open, trying to warm up my mind from the early January chill with a hot mug of
coffee and pondering the meaning of life, particularly all the animal life that
I share my close quarters with, when I saw out of the corner of my eye a slight
flicker, then a twitch, then another flicker of, to what my slumber mind was
trying to compute, seemed to be the iridescent reflection of light that comes
off of freshly licked white fur.
Then, as I was experiencing some out of body, slow motion, reaction of dropping
my mug of hot coffee and yelling, or what I thought I was yelling, warnings of
"Get Down", "Get Down", earth shattering sounds of
bulwarks being crashed into, spars breaking, shrouds snapping, and lines
popping emitted throughout the house disinigrating the silence that once befell
my humble abode.
Topmen were being thrown to their demise to the maindeck, the Leadsmen in the
chains were tossed into oblivion, and the men on the maindeck were being
scattered about, some being pickup up and taken off to what may have been a
watery, drool filled, grave.
As I was running, carrying my improvised sword that was really an umbrella that
I grabbed that was by the front door, trying to rally a counter attack, I
tripped over the ottoman and struck my head on the end of the davenport.
I must have been out for what seemed like hours, but really only a
second, when I shook myself to consciousness, I looked around and felt my
surroundings very cold, silent, and looked up at my beloved ship, the Undine, who's foremast, which once had
full mains and tops'ls, now was just a bare and tattered pole. Her once
taunt lines were hanging loosely, braces that once controlled the great main
spar now hung over the side, and her once organized crew was scattered about
laying lifeless in such unorganized fashion throughout the ship among upturned
cannons, jollyboat, and broken taffrails.
I felt anger, rage, the need to fight back, yet I couldn’t see the attacker
anywhere. Then I heard a faint snarl in the far opposite corner of the
room. My phantom attacker was going to go for the finishing broadside and
in order to prevent him from performing the coup de grace on the Undine; I had to get my ship to safety.
I got up and grabbed the tattered, beaten form that once resembled the
streamlined structure of a 19th century British man of war and hastily strode,
with my attacker to my beam, to the safety of my basement workshop. With
the lights on, the door securely locked but with the blood curdling sounds and booming
screams of my attacker on the other side; I began to survey the damage to the
Undine.
Her spritsail spar was dangling by one brace, taffs were broken off, jolly was
upturned, main and lower spares on the foremast shaved off, and many of
her crew still unaccounted for. I fear, after my quick survey, that she
may be in the yards for a few weeks.
I now have to work on an offensive plan to hunt down her
attacker, a predator that will now become my prey. The steely eyed, 6” tall bundle of fur that I
brought home six months ago as a kitten now must be sought, captured, and taken
a prize before he wreaks havoc on the rest of my fleet.
To end, I’m off to work with this phrase from Capt. Aubrey
in mind;
“So it's every hand to his rope or gun, quick's the word and
sharp's the action”
Good day,
Scott