From: alaric@sti.com (Alaric Tekiahyn)
Newsgroups: alt.callahans
Subject: Re: New Year Pizza Party
Date: 6 Jan 1993 02:34:31 GMT
Organization: Software Transformation, Inc.
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: smurf.sti.com

In article <JBrandt-050193083752@aaa.uoregon.edu>, JBrandt@AAA.UOregon.EDU (Jason & Thyra) writes:
] In article <1993Jan4.204321.29551@crc.ricoh.com>, rowanf@crc.ricoh.com
] (Rowan Fairgrove) wrote:
] > Gypsy sees the Place transformed into an undersea
] > theme and still celebrating the New Year.  Having just
] > had a lovely Hogmanay herself, she quickly changes into
] > a Selkie costume and asks the VPM for a haggis, tomato
] > and goat cheese pizza.
] 
] Gypsy the Selkie is wrapped from behind in a double-hug.
[...]
] Gypsy hears a guggle as she is released, and turns to face
] Thyra, who has transformed herself into a twin-tailed mer-cat.
[...] 
] Jason catches up to Thyra. He's wearing a moderinistic, skintight, dark
] green diver's outfit with some sort of very small, thin backpack to provide
] air to a full facemask. His Cyberdeck is strapped to his chest, wrapped in
] a waterproof membrane. He also hugs Gypsy. "Happy New Year!" he says, using
] a throat-mike and water-transducer to make his voice understandable
] underwater. "Good to see you!"


Around this time, Alaric wanders - or more exactly, drifts - in.  He looks
like a drowned sailor, with ragged shirt and pants, and a round sailor's
hat bearing the name 'Seahorse'.  One foot is missing, and several small
fish can be glimpsed from time to time, swimming in and out from between
his mostly-skeletal ribs.  His hair is matted with seaweed and barnacles,
and a hermit crab peeks out of one ear.


"A Happy New Year to all," the apparition intones sepulchrally.  "Since
 it seemed so appropriate for the theme, I thought I'd drop by and give
 you all the first public reading of a new piece I just finished.
"Well, almost finished, anyway.  I need to go over some charts and pick
 out the proper placenames - there's a few 'provisional' names stuck in
 here for now, that just have the right meter, until I choose the 'real'
 ones.
"(They're the ones with the square brackets around them.  I hate those
 things...  they catch in my throat when I try to pronounce them.)"

A small eel starts to swim out of his mouth, looks around at all the
activity, and hastily ducks back inside again.

"Anyway, here it is..."



		Seahorse Down


	We set sail out from [Castletown]
	In the gray half-light of dawn
	We were sailing for the Hebrides
	On a chill November morn
	We were forty men and four young boys
	And a captain tried and proved,
	And our good ship was the old Seahorse,
	Her three masts tall and true.

	The wind was fresh out of the east
	And we sped across the waves,
	A white bone in our proud ship's teeth
	For most of that short day
	But the wind came round northwesterly
	As the light began to die,
	And the captain looked into the west,
	And doubt was in his eye.

	"This sea's all wrong, my lads," he said,
	"I can feel it in my bones,
	"There's ugly weather on the way,
	"And we are far from home."
	So we sailed on into the dusk
	And prayed our luck would hold,
	But the choppy sea grew wild and rough
	And the wind turned icy cold.

	Straight into the teeth of the gale
	We stoutly held our course,
	But as we came around [Cape Wrath]
	The storm struck with full force.
	The wind screamed like a bainsidhe's wail
	As the Seahorse pitched and rolled,
	And we looked upon that raging sea
	And terror clutched our souls.

	The storm drove us down that lee shore
	Like a leaf blown in a gale,
	And we fought for every foot we lost
	But we lost it all the same.
	Well we sought for refuge from the storm 
	And we ran for [Sandwood Bay],
	But as that haven came in sight,
	Our last hope fled away.

	Between us and that sheltered bay
	One final point stood forth,
	But from the point spread jagged rocks
	Like teeth across our course.
	Then the lookout spied a narrow gap
	That twisted through the reefs,
	But to reach it we'd need more sea-room,
	Four cables' length at least.

	Well we looked upon that dreadful pass
	Through the rocks and crashing surf,
	And the first mate cried, "Let's launch the boats,
	"And row for all we're worth.
	"If we try to take the ship through there,
	"To Davy Jones we're bound,"
	And he led the rush to the ship's longboat,
	But the captain stood his ground.

	The captain said, "We can bring her in
	"If you have the strength and will,
	"But if you fear to chance your lives,
	"No man could think you ill.
	"Our luck has all run out this night,
	"And the gods have looked away
	"But we'll give this angry sea a fight
	"If fifteen men will stay."

	There were thirteen of us stayed on board,
	And Peter the cabin boy,
	While the rest in the longboats rowed for shore,
	Wave-tossed like wooden toys.
	Well we called on all the gods we knew,
	And we hoisted all our sail,
	And we aimed her bow towards the gap
	And ran before the gale.

	Well we'd gain a cable, maybe two,
	Then we'd lose one back again,
	And we fought to hold the ship on course
	Through the driving wind and rain,
	And the rocks drew closer off the bow
	As we clawed our way offshore,
	But with two steps forward for one step back
	We won those cables four.

	So we struggled into the passage mouth
	To run the gauntlet through,
	To thread our way through the deadly reefs
	That could rend our ship in two,
	But as we made a windward turn
	To pass the worst rocks wide,
	With a boom like cannon, the mainsail backed
	And tore from side to side.

	Well the Seahorse fell from off the wind
	And the seas threw her around,
	And her keel scraped over a sunken rock
	With an awful grating sound,
	Then a sudden gust threw her on her side
	And a great wave hurled her hard
	Upon the teeth of the jagged reef,
	And ripped out her brave heart.

	With a crack we heard above the gale,
	The mainmast snapped in two,
	Then the main spar crashed onto the deck,
	And the gallant followed too.
	It struck the third mate and broke his neck
	And it stove the hatches in,
	And smashed three men into the hold
	That we never saw again.

	The Seahorse rolled to her beam ends
	As the sea poured in below,
	And four more men dropped overboard
	To drown in the undertow.
	The deck was a snarl of sails and line
	And her side was splintered in,
	And only yards ahead of us
	Lay the biggest rock we'd seen.

	Then her bowsprit ran into the rock,
	And it snapped off like a twig,
	And the broken end caught the bosun square,
	And crushed him like an egg.
	"Abandon ship!" the captain cried,
	But stood fast at the wheel,
	As the sea hurled us against that rock
	And the ship shook to her keel.

	That final blow, it broke her back,
	And timbers flew like leaves,
	And the mizzen mast tore loose and fell
	On the poop deck underneath.
	The captain and the cabin boy
	Were standing where it fell,
	And it crushed the captain where he stood,
	And trapped Peter as well.

	I tried to get across the deck,
	But the bosun's mate was first,
	And I saw him drag young Peter clear,
	Then he let out a curse
	As the mizzen spar washed overboard,
	And he went with it too,
	With a loop of line caught round his foot
	And nothing I could do.

	The ship was fast tearing apart
	As the seas broke o'er the deck,
	And I knew that I must escape soon
	Or go down with the wreck.
	I looked at the seas that boiled white foam
	From the ship's rail to the land,
	And I knew no man could live through that,
	No matter how he swam.

	Then I looked and I saw a narrow ledge
	Upon that rocky fang,
	And as the Seahorse broke in half,
	I took a desperate chance.
	I grabbed tight hold of Peter then, 
	And made a mighty leap,
	And with one hand, I caught a grip
	Upon the jagged reef.

	I dragged him up onto that ledge,
	And we huddled there all night,
	Drenched and thrashed by the pounding seas
	And numbed by the gale's might.
	When the storm at last blew itself out,
	Somehow we still clung on,
	And found ourselves there, still alive
	In the cold grey light of dawn.

	We climbed and swam from rock to rock
	And somehow got to shore,
	And there we found the bosun's mate,
	With his hands bleeding raw.
	The spar that dragged him overboard
	Had lodged fast in a cleft,
	And he'd clung fast to a line all night
	Hanging inches from his death.

	When the storm died down, he'd freed himself
	And somehow swum to land,
	And there he'd lain 'til we found him,
	Too weak and worn to stand.
	I left Peter there, and went to search
	For the others of our crew,
	Who'd rowed in longboats for the shore
	Rather than fight her through.

	But of the boats I found no sign
	Save a single splintered oar,
	And wreckage and drowned men were strewn
	All down that storm-swept shore;
	Of the proud Seahorse and her forty men
	Not one escaped that storm,
	Except myself and the bosun's mate
	And Peter, the cabin boy.



"I may add one more final verse, in which the seaman telling the tale
 is now the captain of his own ship, and the one-time cabin boy is his
 first mate...  but I haven't decided yet.  So maybe it isn't quite
 that finished yet, even," Alaric admits sheepishly.
(The sight of a drowned, skeletal sailor trying to look sheepish is so
ludicrous it's comical, though.)


-- 
      "Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom."  --  Thomas Jefferson
    ......................................................................
    Phil Stracchino : phils@sti.com : alaric@sti.com : The Renaissance Man
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