Our first episode of tales set at sea and among sea-going folk: The Captain's Log, The Dark Gentleman, and other stories. Music: Creepy — Bensound.com. James: Here are some totally made up tales brought to you by the magic of the internet. First this episode: The Captain's Log. James/Andrew (alternating) Once, the Captain was writing a log entry when he noticed out the window that there was another ship following them. That seemed strange, because no one had charted these waters before him. He did what he would normally do when sighting another ship: he wrote down its bearing and approximate distance, and ordered the bosun to raise more sail in order to get distance between them. After darkness had fallen, they changed course in order to lose them. Sailing in the darkness by dead of night, a ship felt like a world of its own. Gliding nearly silently through the black waters, crested with a rime of white catching the moonlight, the crew spoke softly in case they should be overheard by any other beings. Sunrise brought a fresh breeze and no sign of the ship, but that very evening it appeared once more. At dusk it was gaining on them, but once darkness fell they changed course to avoid them. Sunrise came again and brought an empty horizon. The third night a hush descended on the ship. You could hear a pin drop. From astern there came the sound of a woman crying. Her sobs rended the hearts of the men, so much was it a call to their own loneliness. "Beware!" cried the Captain. "'Tis a sprite!" But the men paid no heed, tacked the ship towards the sobbing, and tried to rescue her. One by one, they jumped into the water over the rail. One by one, they swam towards the heart-rending sound. And one by one, their sounds faded into nothingness. Finally only the Captain and the First Mate remained on the ship. "Don't you go in," said the Captain, but too late. Come morning the boat was full of men once more — climbing up the mast, hanging from the spars, and scrubbing the deck. The Captain looked around in great surprise. Returning to his cabin, he made an entry in the log reading: July Fourteenth. The crew have been replaced by fairies. God have mercy on my soul. Seventeen years later, the floating hull was discovered by a Royal Navy vessel, which determined that the boat had been abandoned, and all aboard had perished. They found the Captain's log, the final entry still wet. James: Chase … Andrew: Away … James: Your … Andrew: Demons … James: By … Andrew: Going … James: To … Andrew: Sea. James: Make … Andrew: Biscuits … James: Using … Andrew: Flour … James: And … Andrew: Weevils … James: They'll … Andrew: Taste … James: Crunchy … Andrew: And … James: Delicious. Andrew: Damp … James: Will … Andrew: Get … James: Everywhere … Andrew: When … James: You … Andrew: Are … James: At … Andrew: Sea. That wasn't really a proverb; that was just a fact. James: It was just a statement of fact. Andrew: Rum … James: And … Andrew: Sodomy … James: Neither … Andrew: Are … James: Welcome … Andrew: In … James: My … Andrew: Navy. James: Rum and sodomy. I mean it's really just the Georgian Navy's equivalent of 'Netflix and Chill.' Setting … Andrew: Sail … James: From … Andrew: Southampton … James: We … Andrew: Encountered … James: Three … Andrew: Witches … James: Floating … Andrew: On … James: The … Andrew: Surface … James: Of … Andrew: The … James: Sea. Andrew: One … James: Told … Andrew: Us … James: That … Andrew: Our … James: Voyage … Andrew: Would … James: Be … Andrew: Successful. James: One … Andrew: Told … James: Us … Andrew: That … James: Our … Andrew: Voyage … James: Would … Andrew: Be … James: Traumatic. Andrew: The … James: Third … Andrew: Told … James: us … Andrew: That … James: Our … Andrew: Voyage … James: Would … Andrew: Be … James: Long. Andrew: Which … James: Witch … Andrew: Was … James: Telling … Andrew: The … James: Truth? And now: The Dark Gentleman. Andrew/James (alternating): The morning of the ninth day of the month of May, the ship broke free of its mooring, and started to float towards the mouth of the harbour. Aboard was a distinguished gentleman, who was known throughout the land as a practitioner of the Dark Arts. He had a small moustache and black hair, an avuncular face but long talon-like fingers. He had paid for a cabin across the Atlantic Ocean. The men muttered amongst themselves superstitiously, but accepted his presence since their pay had been raised thanks to his generosity. He intended to spend the voyage shut in his room reading about the newest discoveries in the occult realm. His colleagues in the New World were anxious that he should be ready to assist in their Great Endeavour upon his arrival. His routine was to rise at dawn, read a paper from his colleagues and pray for safe weather to his guardian demons. After ...
