//------------------------------// // Finding a Crew // Story: Gulliver's Last Travel // by Boss_Hoss1 //------------------------------// Gulliver's Last Travel Chapter 3; Finding a Crew By Boss Hoss Captain's logbook, H.M.S. Alicorn August 16, 1720 ~Anno Domini ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Windy Corral Island was much like any in the South Pacific or the Caribbean, save for a lack of human inhabitants. Parrots and other tropical birds called from the trees overhead as I walked along the narrow beach. To my surprise, I enjoyed seeing my daughter enticing a parrot to come and land on her shoulder. More surprising, the bird was trying to hold a conversation with her and started working out an English-Equine pidgin with her. At least my attempts at teaching my children the Houyhnhnm language will finally help her. After careful reassurances there was nothing dangerous on the island, Wavedancer had convinced me to allow Elanore and Elisabeth to join me and rode other Hippocami to shore. Alexander had of course elected to stay on board to keep things secure. Soon we had come into a small lagoon, following the shore while Wavedancer swam nearby. The mare soon sat up in the water and pointed to a hut made of bamboo and palm fronds, with a figure lying in a canvas hammock. < There! He can get you a crew! > I grew uneasy as I saw brown bottles of a strangely familiar shape. It only increased as we came closer. The smell of unwashed horse blew over us, mixed with the smell of rum I looked at the pony with abject horror, the tan stallion was hopefully his natural color for I did not want to imagine that was dirt. The brown mane was fixed in dreadlocks held upright out of his face by a red bandanna, and his upper lip was adorned with a stringy mustache that would be the glory of any pirate or Chinese nobleman. The stallion opened a green, bloodshot eye and fixed me with a stare. < Well, yer a fine hallucination! Why not? Minotaurs are supposed to make fantastic wine. Right then, Mate! Make with the wine! Give me ever’ drop ya got! > Trembling, I backed away a step, and the impure stallion sat up holding his head with a hoof in a very human manner. He groaned and raised his other forehoof, a bottle stuck there as if glued. Surely my eyes went wide in horror as I heard the bottle slosh a bit. Frantically, I snatched it away and threw it into the jungle where I heard it shatter. The stallion looked at his empty hoof in shock, then at me, then back at his hoof. < The rum’s gone! Why’s the rum gone? > I could take no more and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him angrily. < You bloody sot! You are supposed to be a proud Houyhnhnm! Here you are acting like a blasted Yahoo monkey! > He grabbed my arms in his hooves in a surprising grip and looked at my hands blearily. < I, sirrah, am a Celestia-damned good PONY. While I am a confirmed drunkard, and you, a hideously deformed Minotaur of some kind, I at least can quit drinking, Mate… Wait… Why…why is the rum gone?... > Unable to take any more of an equine acting like any common Yahoo sailor, I turned and stumbled away. Sobbing, I fell to my knees in the sand, facing the lagoon. Wavedancer pulled herself up onto the narrow strip of beach and pawed a hoof in worry. < Gulliver! What is wrong? He is the best sailor this island can offer! He just cant’ handle dry land so well, is all. Rumrunner! Come quick! I brought someone with a ship in dire need of your service, but he’s sorely unhappy. He is Captain Gulliver. > There was a sudden comforting nuzzle from behind, with a strong smell of rum. A moment later, Elanore and Elisabeth knelt in the sand beside me “Lemuel! Is it another attack? Oh my! And who is this scalliwag?” Elisabeth spoke up “Mother, this parrot says the pony is named Rumrunner.” I shook my head “No dear, not an attack… I am just… “disappointed”. He wears the shape of a pony but acts like any human man.” To my shock, Rumrunner looked at Elisabeth with surprise, then a pleased smirk < Ello, and who might this fine Minotaur hefer be? Jolly seems to have taken a liking to ‘er. > Groaning, I put my head in my hands < That is my daughter, sir! > At least the tan stallion had the decency to blush. < Oh! Um, forgive a lonely sailor, Mate. No disrespect was meant sir. > Just then, someone else joined the conversation, with the patient coaching of Jolly the parrot. < Me Elisabeth. Careful please of Sire mine. Bad sick! Need strong medicine. Crew gone, no hope but you. > Eyes wide, Rumrunner backed off a step < Sick? Crew gone? Dead? Yer not carrying Pony Pox to my fair island are ye? > Shaking my head sadly I replied < No sir, what I have is not communicable by breath, but blood and other fluids. I was scratched up by a young Yahoo monkey girl who had chanced upon me naked and thought I was a good specimen of… stallion for her needs. She did not take rejection well and only the intervention of my guardian on that island saved me from worse injury. It took years to show but the wench has likely killed me that day. I only connect my illness to her because I had spoken with Houyhnhnm Doctors to trade information. -Doctors who are primarily Veterinarians to Yahoo monkeys and other livestock since illness is rare for the Houyhnhnms themselves. I seek their land again for the cure to save my life. -Even if I must spend every penny I have in getting there. As for my crew, the cowards fled in the face of the storm that brought us here, all green with Witchfire it was. Who knows where they have landed now? > To my surprise, the rugged stallion grew teary-eyed and gave me a comforting hug, which I sheepishly returned. < That’s a rum do, Mate. We can figure my wages later, but count me in on this little adventure. How many sailors d’ye need, by the bye? We can hold a fine luau tonight in yer honor and sign up yer crew then, Savvy? > I gave him a more heartfelt hug < I.. Oh, thank you Rumrunner! I apologize for my actions earlier. You pony folk must act more like my people than the Houyhnhnms I seek. It is most… jarring to me. Anyway, I need at least eleven crew…ponies, though you can probably be a better judge of what ponies can handle if you see my ship.> Nodding, the pony trotted over to his hut and plopped a brown tri-corner hat on his head using an improbable motion of his hoof. He then gave a jaunty grin at the prospect of sailing again and dipped forward on a forehoof in a bow to me and my wife and daughter < Aye Captain, lead the way. Let’s see what we have to work with shall we? > ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Soon we were back on the deck of the Alicorn, with a little surprise involved on the part of Rumrunner as he was the first to scramble up the rope ladder Alexander tossed down, as agile with his hooves as any sailor man. The stallion trotted round, investigating everything while Jennifer and Jolly continued their lessons. After a few minutes, mainly in flirting with Daisy and my daughter when he thought I was not looking, he reported back to me in my cabin. < ‘Tis a fine ship, Mate. -As fine as any in the Canterlot Merchantmen fleet. What can ye tell me of it’s class? > I had anticipated his questions and laid out the ships papers on the table and waved for him to sit as I pointed to the drawings of the ship’s plans. < This ship is a Dutch-built merchantman, called a Flute, built sturdy to take on the hellish storms of the North Sea. Because of this, they can take on any sea. Tonnage is decent, the three masts use a simple square-rig, her hull is flat-bottomed for maximum cargo capacity with a draft of one and a half fathoms. Maximum crew is two-hundred and fifty, with a minimum of fifteen… > Here I paused, wondering if these ponies were as innocent as I hoped. < I must ask if there are dangers of the sea here? My ship has ten guns, but it has the capacity for fourteen. I sold four to make room for my family to be with me, but kept the rest in case of pirates. Those raiders of the South China Sea are vicious in the extreme. We still have a score of muskets and horse pistols for boarding actions, but I am afraid only we can use them since we have hands. > After a long moment of Rumrunner rubbing his chin with a hoof, he spoke < I wondered what those strange tubes were positioned at the weapon ports. They had not the look of Lightning Casters such as the Royal Equestrian Navy warships employ. To answer your question, Mate, there would be no warships under the flag o’ the Princess at all were it not for pirates and privateers bedeviling honest merchant ships, nor rogue Sea-drakes and other beasties in their employ. The greedy scum are from the Griffon and Minotaur kingdoms and their colonies. If ye have weapons they have never seen, all the better t’ surprise them with should we meet them, savvy? > he finished with a feral grin. While I had hoped they would be as innocent as the Houyhnhnms they resemble, having pony-eating neighbors that actually use weapons would likely shake even the logical aloofness of Houyhnhnm kind should they ever meet. Silently, I prayed my old friends would never meet Griffons, as legend described them craving horse flesh like it was a drug. Despite my misgivings, I decided I liked this brash, human-like stallion willing to fight a shipful of fearsome predators. Cheerfully, I flashed a sly grin of my own < Indeed, I savvy. >