> Dead Ponies Tell no Tale
>  by QuirkyGallade
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> History repeats its self
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 23, 257 A.D. 
I am writing this so I can have some kind of sense of reality in what has become an unreal world. What has happened to me, is something I would not wish on even my worst enemy. My name is Sturdy Bollard,  and If by some chance of fate this log finds it's way into the hands of another, I beg of you to heed the words I have penned here. They may one day save your life. So you may know what to keep a watchful eye for, I suppose it's best to start from the beginning.
I was a young Earth pony colt of 18, I had lived in the coastal town of Baltimare my entire life. The salt of the Sea was as much a part of me as the magic of the earth. My father, an Earth pony stallion by the name of Sturdy Keel, was a fisher pony. You would never find a more Stubborn, stern, disciplinary, or a more kind hearted and loving Stallion any were. He fished the waters of the eastern coast of Equistria, making his living catching and selling fish to the griffin merchants that came down from the north. I sailed and worked with him on his old, single masted sloop, the Firm Resistance, as soon as I could walk. That old ship, became my second home and my life. The calm night breeze was my lullaby, and the rocking of ocean waves helped me to sleep at night. 
I never knew my mother, My father told me she disappeared after I was born, so I came to think of the sea as a sort of mother figure. Always there, always willing to listen, always able to provide. And for seventeen years I was happy, Life was good, we had all that we needed. Food, family, and the sea... But all good things must pass. Three months before my Eighteenth birthday, a savage storm struck. My father had taken the Firm Resistance out while I was at our small house, near the Baltimare docks, sleeping off a night of drink. I'll never forget that day. I woke up to the sound of mighty thunder claps and the steady drum beats of massive raindrops on the roof.
I looked through the house for my father, but he wasn't there. The storm continued for three days, and as each day passed, my heart broke a bit more when my father didn't return. On the morning of the fourth day, the storm broke and the sun shone through the dark clouds. I rushed down to the docks, hoping that I'd see that sun bleached, green hull, and hear my father's laugh as he saw how worried I was. I saw only an empty space at the docks.
it was a week before I saw anything. I was sitting on the white beach of Horseshoe bay, staring out to the horizon. I did this for all seven days, other then eating or sleeping. The evening on the seventh day was when the sea decided to give me news of my father's fate. Celestia's sun was setting as I got up to head home. As I gazed to the sea one last time I saw an oddly shaped piece of wood floating not far off shore. 
I walked down to the shore and swam out to grab it. it was the figure head of the Firm Resistance. I mourned for my fathers passing, but instead of moving on I sought to run. I didn't want to face the pain, so I ran, straight to the pub by the docks. Not two months after I turned eighteen I was at my wits end. I had squandered all my bits on drink and good company, and when those ran out I sold my possessions. when I had no more possessions, I sold our home. I tried to drown the pain of my father's passing in cider, but after every drunken stupor I would wake up, and he still wouldn't be there. Three weeks prior to this entry I found myself down to my last bits. 
I was seated in a darkened corner of the local pub, it was quiet. Most were asleep, but not me. I stared into my mug of cider, the amber liquid sloshing as I brought the brim to my lips. I took a long, deep draught, feeling the cider burn down my throat. As I set the mug down, I was startled by the pony who was now seated across from me at the table. I had not heard him walk up the the table, nor sit down, but there he was. He was a Heavy built Earth pony, with fur as black as the depths of Tartarus, mane the color of bleached bone, and his eyes a piercing silver. He wore only a brown canvas shirt and cotton pants. A rust red cloth was tied around his left bicep and a black heart shaped pendant, hanging around his neck, stood out on his shirt.
"You look like you've had a rough day." He said, his voice so smooth you would be able to slide all the way to Canterlot on it. I was in no mood for company.
"And if I have, What's it to you?" I said with no shortage of hostility. He merely chuckled at my drunken attempt at intimidation.
"Why it's everything to me..." He said with a smile.
"I always keep my eye out for ponies who might... benefit from what I have to offer." I scoffed at that.
"And what could you offer me?" I challenged him.
"I can offer you... an escape." He said as he steepled his fingers under his chin and leaned forward slightly. My breath caught in my throat. How did he know?
"Who says I need an escape?" I asked cautiously. He gestured to the mug of cider still in my hand.
"I don't come to port often, but I know a Stallion only drinks as much as you do, when they have something they want to forget." Knitting his finger together, he placed his elbows on the table and directed his piercing gaze to mine.
"Your clothes are ragged, you have heavy bags under your eyes and your eyes..." His gaze seemed to slither it's way into my mind, forcing me to keep eye contact when all I wanted to do was look away.
"Your eyes show the burden of pain and loss, two things I know, as I have felt them before." I could not see his lips behind his hands but his eyes shone with mirthless delight.
"I can offer you an escape from that pain, that burden you carry, I can help you rid yourself from its heavy weight." He said, his voice soothing to my pained soul. I was hypnotized by his voice and his eyes, fierce, powerful, untamed. The eyes of a Stallion who no longer felt the pain of memories, no longer felt remorse for the past. I wanted to know how to be like that. no longer feel the pain of loss, or heartbreak, or loneliness. I wanted what he offered.
"Are you interested?" and to my eternal shame, he didn't even need to ask.
"What's your offer?" I asked, hope clearly heard in my voice. He smiled in triumph as he reached into his shirt and pulled out a roll of parchment, then took a wooden quill and a pot of red ink from his pocket.
"I'm the captain of a ship, and I'm looking for new blood, so to speak, some of my current crew are... no longer with me." He smirked as he talked.
"My ship doesn't make port to often, so when it does, I look for any able bodied sailors who would want to join my crew." His eyes in the low candle light of the pub seemed to glow an eerie sea green. Unrolling the parchment, which I noted was strange looking, I saw the fine writing of a contract and a line where I could sign my name.
"This is a contract for employment in my service. If you want to be free from the burden you carry, Sign this contract, Join my crew and be rid of it." 
My hand seemed to move with a will of it's own. I reached out, and and took the quill from his hand, grasping it in my fingers. I found it wasn't made of wood, but of bone. I dipped the end into the blood red ink and, as if in a trance, I signed my name on dotted line of the contract. 
I didn't care what it stated, I didn't care what I was signing up for. All I wanted was to run, to get away from my pain and sorrow and this Pony was offering me a way out on a silver platter. Looking back now I can see how much of a fool I was. I was so caught up in my sadness, my own pain. I so desperately wanted a way out, that I did not even consider what the price was. As I finished the d of my name in a small flourish, an evil glint shown in the Stallion's eye. He laughed loudly, scooping up the contract and stuffing it into his shirt.
"Welcome to the crew! Mr. Bollard." He laughed again, but there was no mirth in his laugh. it was cold and devoid of feeling. A loud Thunder clap boomed outside. The stallions eye's flashed green and my whole world went black.
That is how I came to be on this ship, this damned ship. I must end this entry here, captain Jones is calling us to stations.






February 5, 258 A.D.
It has been some time since my last entry. The Captain has the crew working till our very bones are weary. Still to my utter horror, and confusion, I no longer need to eat food. There is no food on board this ship at all. I no longer need water either, I never feel parched, or thirst, but at the end of the day I always feel a heavy tiredness in my soul. I miss the taste of food, the cool, refreshing touch of water on my tongue. I never see the sun anymore, or feel its warmth on my fur. 
The sky is, on most days, a dull grey. The kind of sky that comes before a storm. I'm not sure what kind of magic this ship has saturated myself, and the rest of the crew with, but it's not normal. I've witnessed what captain Jones's and his crew's profession is. We are pirates. We've sighted three ships since I came aboard, and we pursued all three. With every chase, a violent storm would appear off the stern of out ship, filling the sails with wind and speeding us onward toward our prey. 
I haven't taken part in any of the boarding parties that swarm the ships we run down. They are mostly comprised of senior crew members only. You may wonder way I can so calmly say, I'm a pirate. I can calmly claim that title, because I have no choice in the matter.
I discovered that the contract I signed was far more binding, far more... permanent then any normal agreement. Captian Jones gives an order, and I follow it. He issues a command, and I obey. It's like I have no free will, when he gives orders I follow them whether I want to or not.
We seem to never take prisoners. I know this because I never see the boarding parties return with anypony, other then who was already in the party. It disturbs me greatly. I can here their screams, their cries of pain, as they are murdered in cold blood by my fellow crew mates. I don't understand how I have no free will on this ship, but I am able to write this log. I must ask one of the senior crew members about this. I need to end this entry here, Another ship has been spotted and we're being called to battle stations. 



 

December 25, 287 A.D.
Words can not describe, the horror I have witnessed, and participated in. Captain Jones decided that I would go with the boarding party that raided the ship we were chasing down today. He said it was to be my "rite of passage." It was a two masted brigantine, trying desperately to sail as fast as it could into the shelter of Horseshoe Bay. It's been thirty years since that night in the pub, since I signed myself into servitude to Captain Jones... Since I've been this close to home.
The storm that formed Behind the stern of our frigate has become a normality now. The winds and the high, crashing waves don't bother me as they did in the first few months. I stood on the Bowsprit, hanging onto the rigging for support. The Captain and the rest of the boarding party were just behind me, savage grins adorning their muzzles.
The brigantine, scrambled forward, as her crew panicked and tried everything they could to try and shake us off out pursuit. They had no success. As our ship drew along side, the boarding party and myself leapt aboard our prey ship. I don't know why I didn't notice it before, but none of us had any weapons. no blade, no gun, not even a fork was held by my crew and our captain.
I now realize why they never carried weapons on their raids. we don't need them. I also now know why I no longer feel hunger, or thirst, or the coolness of the wind. I taste nothing... I feel nothing... I am an empty shell. When we boarded that ship, we were met with over fifty sailors, armed to the teeth with weapons. Captain Jones, myself and the crew faced over fifty muskets, loaded, cocked and aimed at us. Their commander gave the order to fire, and if we had been any other crew, no one would've been left standing.
The musket balls, slammed into us, tearing holes in our clothes and flesh, but no blood was shed by us. Not a drop fell from our bodies, for we have no blood to speak of. As the bullets ripped through me I heard, my captain give the order to attack, and in that instance... I became some one else.
I was like a ravenous beast, I felt thirst clutch at my throat for the first time in years, but I don't thirst for water. Hunger clawed at my stomach, I was a Stallion who was starving, but I didn't hunger for a home cooked meal. As I charged the brigantines crew I only had one thing on my mind. feed.
I pounced on the nearest pony, a unicorn with red fur, brown eyes and a grey mane. I can still see the look on his face, I can hear his scream ringing in my ears. I tore his throat out with my teeth. Blood gushed from the wound like a macabre water fountain, his life water splashing all over my muzzle, staining my white fur deep crimson.
I didn't stop there, I tore of his uniform and undershirt. He was still alive when I ripped open his rib cage, Snapping the ribs like they were dry twigs from a dead tree. I heard his gurgling screams of pain as I ripped him apart and he chocked on his own blood. I gripped what I had shredded his body to pieces for... And I ripped his still beating heart out from his gaping chest. blood still squirting from the shredded valves , as it tried in vain to pump what blood it still had in it to it's dying owner.
As I devoured his heart, I noted it took me only three swallows to consume it completely. The light of life leaving the unknown stallion's eyes as the burning hunger and thirst in me was sated slightly. It felt good to eat, good to drink, but I needed more. Most of the other sailors were taken by the rest of my crew, Captain Jones watched from the aft of the Brigantine eyes blazing with pleasure at the sight.
I made my way bellow decks to the crews living quarters. When I opened the third door on the left, I came upon a sight that made my hunger flare with need. Three mares, huddled together in the far corner of the room, two ponies and one Griffin. one pony mare had a horn green fur, pale purple eyes and a silver mane, the other, was a soft yellow and her green eyes with a beep red mane. The female griffiness had golden feathers, adorning her upper body, and soft earthy brown fur from her belly down. I will never be able to remove the words she spoke from my mind. For as long as I live, they will ever haunt me.
"Don't hurt my chick, please. you can do what you want with me but, please spare my chick." The griffiness pleaded with me to spare the life of her child. I want to listen, to stop this madness, this horrible nightmare that I was living through. Then I heard Captain Jones's hollow laughter, ring in my head, like the scythe of death.
"No quarter." He commanded... and I obeyed.
They cowered in fear and did their best to shield the young chick from me, but it didn't work. I ripped the yellow mares left arm from her body. with a scream of pure pain she clutched her shoulder, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. I drove both my hands into her chest, prying it open like one would a cargo crate. I dove my face into her chest cavity, and ripped her heart out with my jaws.
I don't know how I managed it, but I swallowed her heart whole. I let her still warm corpse fall to the ground, causing the growing pool of blood to splash in all direction. The green unicorn charged her magic and shot a beam at my chest. It struck me, causing me to fly back into the wall next to the door. As I slumped next to the door, the unicorn and griffin looked hopeful as I didn't move.
"Get up." My captains command echo in my mind. I rose to my feet, the look of utter despair on the females faces seared into my memory. I lunged and grabbed both of them by their neck. With a mighty wrench, I snapped their necks. But I did it in such a way that they still lived, but they were unable to flee.
"Set the griffin up against the wall, make sure she can see you." Captain Jones ordered. I propped the griffiness against the wall by the door, making sure her crooked neck was facing in the right direction.
"Pick up the infant." I turned and walked back to the corner.  I bent over and picked up the writhing, wailing bundle of cloth. The chick, it looked to be barely a year old. Never spoken a single word, it had yet to take a single step.
As I held the crying chick I turned to the mother. I could see it in her eyes, she was begging me to stop, pleading with me to spare her child. I wish I could've granted her pleas, but I have no will out side these pages.
"I know you're hungry... I know your starving..." Captain Jones's smooth voice rang in my head.
"You may not get a meal like this in some time. I think it's best to... savor it, don't you think?" he asked with a gleeful chuckle. I could only stand there and wait for the inevitable.
"Enjoy your meal, eat it slowly, savor it." At my captain's command, I began to eat the griffin chick, slowly. My soul has shattered into so pieces, that I can never put it back together. Nor do I want to put my soul back together, not after today. If I was being made to do it against my will I could find redemption... but my soul never will find redemption. I know this, because I enjoyed my meal. I savored it, I... felt again. It is an odd sensation, to stop feeling then to feel again. My soul is forever damned to the lowest pits of tartarus when my captain has no further use for me. I'm tainted, dirty, an abomination. I pen this entry, wearing the red stained rags of my sins, in such detail, so that any who might read this, know what fate awaits you if you can't escape this ship. What fate awaits you, if you can't escape... The Flying Dutchman.





May 23, 347 A.D.
I was able to get some information out of one of the senior crew members. While we no longer need to eat or drink on the ship, we can still get drunk. There is a supply of cider on board that the crew is allowed to dip into on certain occasions. I found that one of the senior members, has a very loose tongue when he has had some cider to wet his throat. I learned from him that the reason I'm able to write this log as freely as I am, is because it's part of the contract that I signed. 
The contract stated that "before each attempted capture of a ship, we the crew, are allowed to deposit letter, trinkets and objects of meaning into message barrel for delivery to family, loved ones of next of kin. Said barrel would be set adrift and, we the crew would signal the ship in question to deliver it, they would pick it up and if they were able to successfully escape capture, all of said belongs and letters in said message barrel would be left, and said ship would no longer pursued."
It was a sick, twisted game that Captain Jones played with the crew for his own amusement. Three other ponies are new additions to this ship. It builds their hopes up that they might be able to reach out and let their families and loved ones know what happened to us.
When I first heard of this clause in the contract I saw a glimmer of hope... But that was quickly smashed by the drunken drunken crew member.
"It'll never happen, lad. There is no ship that can, or ever will, out run The Flying Dutchman."





September 15, 572 A.D.
I have been able to glean more information from the crew. It pertains to our captain Davy Jones. I discovered he used to be mortal like the rest of us. This very ship was his own when he was alive. From what I've pieced together so far is that he fell in love with a mare. Now I'm not certain who she was, the crew seem split on that subject. one half says she was the sea incarnate, and the other say she was as beautiful as the sea, and as wicked as she was beautiful and could entice any stallion she wanted. What I do know is that Davy Jones fell in love with this mare, showering her with gifts, fine clothes, gems, jewelry and all manner of pretty things.
She took the gifts, as she was vain and fretted over her appearance, but she never returned the love he felt for her. Desperate to gain her affection, he asked her what he must do for her to love him back. She was a clever and evil mare, she knew much of the ways of ancient magic and struck a bargain with Jones.
She created the parchment from the skin of her sister, ink from her mother's blood and the quill from a bone from her father. After her preparations were done in secret, she drew up the contract for Jones, and in his blind drive to gain her affections, he signed it. He would sail the seas for ten long years never making port, never touching land, and on the first day of the eleventh year he could return to shore to be with her. 
That is what she told him. but it was nothing but a hollow lie. When Jones returned on the first day of the eleventh year, all he found was a pendant, made from a piece of black Chitin, carved into the shape of a heart, nestled inside a chest, containing all the letters of love he had written her. She had tricked him, and cursed him to roam the sea for eternity. Only able to come ashore once every ten year.
Jones's rage knew no bounds that day. In a fit of anger and sadness, Jones carved out the one thing that caused him to feel such pain. His heart. Tearing it from his chest placed it inside with the letters, all his feelings locked away so he would never feel pain like that again. But he removed the pendant, and wears it to this day to remind him, the heart is the cause of all pain. This is all I have been able to discover. I fear that Some time in the future I will no longer be able to write in this log book. Every passing year, I feel a bit more stretched... sort of thin, like butter scraped over to much bread. 
I have lived far past the normal life expectancy for an Earth pony. but what I am now, can I truly call this life. I dwell not among the living so I can not die, but, neither am I dead. I just exist.
I feel my mind slowly slipping from me with each passing year, with each raid, all of their faces haunt my dreams. I remember all of them, every face, every detail of their last moments, they're there when I close my eyes. Watching me, starring at me with empty, hollow eyes that mirror what I am, what I've become. I am void. 
I know not when I will loose the drive to keep this log. These entries, as I have noticed are slowly taking more time to write. My will to keep this log is fading. maybe it is because of what that crewman told me, that this will never be seen by anyone. never read, my warnings will never be heard. No I can not give up hope yet. I have lasted this long. I swear on my Name, Sturdy Bollard, I will stay tied to hope. One day a ship will escape, one day they will open the message barrel, one day they will know to fear the Flying Dutchman and her Captain Davy Jones.





August 23, 957 A.D.
The irony is not lost on me. it is 700 years to the day, of my first log entry. And I fear, that this will be my last. Even now as I scratch the quill to the paper, I find it harder and harder to muster the will to continue. But continue I must. For you see, I have a plan. With permission from Captain Jones, I was allowed to read the contract that I had signed. His pride will be his undoing, pride always comes before the fall, my father always said. Captain Jones probably took some delight a my supposed suffering that I needed to read the contract. And When read it, I discovered a loop hole. This is my final act of free will, I will laugh in Davy Jones's face, and I will spit in his eye. The contract states that a when a ship is sighted, the barrel may be sent adrift and the prey ship signaled to pick it up. 
But no were, I repeat, NO WERE, does it say I must inform the captain of said sighting, signaling of said ship and the dropping of said message barrel. And yesterday, as the last light of Celestia's sun shone on the sea, I spotted a ship. This is my one chance, the only chance I have left to me. I say a prayer of thanks to whatever god or gods have deemed me worthy of mercy and have blessed me with a second chance. I get to try to atone for the atrocities I have committed. 
This will be my last entry. After tonight it is in the hands of fate. I discovered something, In my long 700 year servitude. I found, that I got exactly what I wanted. When I signed that contract all those years ago, I wanted to run, to shed myself of this burden that I had carried with me since my father died. And I did. I can honestly say Jones kept his end of the deal. and that is where you, dear reader, must be ever watchful. Davy Jones never lies... He finds to much pleasure in the truth, because the truth to him is even more painful. I lost the burden of my father death like I wanted, but I gained another one in it's place.
If this reaches you dear reader, I implore you, turn your ship's course to the nearest land and flee. Unfurl your sails, let them be filed to bursting so that they may speed you to safety. For the ship you see dead astern is the Flying Dutchman, Captained by the spawn of demons, Davy Jones. And if by some miracle of fate, you escape, look back to the ghostly ship that pursued you and raise your right hand. So that I may see it and know, that my words have been heard.
The time grows near, I must soon drop the barrel and signal that ship while the change in the crew watch takes place.
final log entry of Sturdy Bollard, son of Sturdy Keel. Smooth sailing and calm seas to you. 




(August 24, 957 A.D)

Captain Swift Helm closed the log book that had been found in the barrel that they had fished from the sea. After reading the last entry, dated just the day before, the steel grey Pegasus, never once in his life, had he ever felt such pity for another pony.
To endure something like that for all that time... The captain wasn't sure if he could last as long as Sturdy had. He placed a hand on the old log book, it's pages yellow and crinkled with extreme old age.
"You did your father proud in the end Sturdy." He bowed his head and gave a silent prayer to Clelestia, praying for a poor soul to be put to peace. A loud commotion on deck caught the captain's attention. He picked up his officers hat and strode out the door the the main deck. The crew were rushing about like headless chickens. He spotted his first officer issuing orders to the crew from behind the railing of the command deck.
"Commander Prism! What's going on?" The commander, a shy blue Pegasus mare, with rainbow colored mane and tail looked relieved to she her captain. her green eyes focused on him.
"There's a massive storm front approaching from dead astern Sir. We Pegasi may be able to control weather over the continents but the sea is truly untamable." She explained to the Captain Helm as he Ascended the steps to the command deck. He strode over to the navigator, a Lieutenant who stood right next to the Helmspony, helping him with the helm. 
"Lieutenant, give me you spyglass." The lieutenant gave it to his captain without a word. Captain Swift Helm snapped the glass into place and peered through it at the storm front the was gaining on them quickly from behind. What he saw turned his blood to ice. There, just inside of the curtain of rain that divided clear skies, from raging typhoon, was a ship. A large frigate, slicing through the ways as if they were air. Her sails fully dressed and billowing out with the wind. He turned back to his crew and bellowed orders at the top of his lungs,



"FULL SAILS! I WANT EVERY AVAILABLE PIECE OF CANVASS IN THE RIGGING UNFURLED AND CATCHING WIND." 
The crew was well seasoned, this wasn't their first time on a voyage, and they snapped into action. Pegasi ponies zipped into the rigging, unfurling the sails as fast as the could. Earth  and Unicorn ponies worked together to secure the rigging, Belaying the ropes to the tack pins and securing the life lines of the crew.
"Helmpony, move!" Captain Swift Helm took over the helm himself, his special talent, being able to coax the most speed out of any ship he was at the helm of, to good use. He just hoped it would be enough to help them escape.
Commander Prism had never seen her captain so shaken before. She had served with him for nearly three years and they had been through worse storms then this. 
"Captain, what has you so spooked sir?" She asked. Captain Helm didn't look at he when he spoke, his face a grim mask of concentration and  dread as he made adjustments to the helm egging her to move faster.
"It's not the storm we're running from Rain, There's a ship out there. A frigate and it's hunting us." The commander was shocked, He never used her first name unless it was a deadly serious situation.
"What does she want Swift? We aren't a war with any nation, and pirates have become near extinct."  Swift gave a sideways glance to his commander,
"She's called the Flying Dutchman. She's an ancient vessel of wrath and evil incarnate and she's gaining on us." Rain Prism had never seen him so serious. She looked Astern to see the vessel her self. Mighty thunder claps slammed the sky and lightning bolt's stabbed the broiling sea, illuminating a large ship. It drove trough the giant waves and screaming gales that the storm threw.The sight of it sent shivers down her spine,
"Shiver me timbers." she said in fear.
"I never knew you were superstitious Rain." the captain said with a forced smile.
"I think I'm justified this one time. Swift... If we get out of this alive, you'll get that date you've been pestering me for for the last five months." Swift raised an eyebrow at that.
"Just more incentive for me to get us to Baltimare's Horseshoe Bay safetly then, eh?" He tried to smirk, but it came out as more of a grimace. The edge of the storm was bearing down their backs, the wind screaming like a primal beast. A faint voice reached his sharp ears,
"LAND HO!! HORSESHOE BAY  OFF THE PORT BOW!" Swift's eye blazed with hope,
We're so close... just a bit more. He called out more orders.
"TRIM THE SAILS! I DON'T WANT ANY SPILLAGE!" He heard some of the crew yelling. Some were clinging to anything that they could to stay on their feet.
"COME ON YOU OLD GIRL! SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT!
"COME ON YOU BEAUTY! SPREAD THOSE WINGS AND FLY!" Captain Swift Grinned with pride at his crew. They had faith in their ship, they had faith in their commander, they had faith in him, and he wasn't going to be the to let them down. He adjusted course again, trying to get the wind just right for the sails. 
They were so close to the harbor he could almost touch it. The storm had all but engulfed them now, their ship cresting massive waves then plummeting into the troughs between them. It was like the very sea was against them. The captain squinted his eyes, glaring through the pelting rain and yowling wind. He was soaked to the bone and his officers hat had long since been claimed by the storm. He felt the wind slacken slightly and he looked fearfully over his shoulder.  The Dutchman was trying to cut their wind, trying to slow them down so it could claim it's prey.
"NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT YOU BASTAAARRRD!!" Swift Helm screamed into the wind, He could've sworn he heard some one laugh. That damn ship was mocking him. He would show them. A massive wave, bigger then the any before came bearing down on the bow of the ship. His eye was sharp, his timing perfect, his cutie mark on his left hand, one of a ships helm spinning from a strong wind, glowed bright as Swift Helm yanked the helm to port. 
He steered the ship to an almost invisible spot in the wave, a small dip in the crest, indicating a cross current; Fate seemed to be on the side of Captain Swift helm and his crew, for the wind gave birth to a massive gust. It filled his ship's sails to the brim and caused the main mast to bend under the strain. His ship slipped over the wave, like a graceful bird gliding in the air. The same couldn't be said for the Flying Dutchman. The unexpected turn and gust of wind caused the Dutchman, to hit the wave on the starboard bow rather then head on. This caused the Dutchman to turn to port despite the wishes of her helmspony. Charging into the safety of Horseshoe Bay his crew cheered in celebration. They had made it.
"SECURE ALL SAILS!! AND THERE'S AND EXTRA RATION OF CIDER FOR THE LOT OF YOU!" The crew cheered even louder at that. their cheering however was drowned out by an unnatural scream. All the crew froze in terror at the other worldly wail. It was as if Tartatus itself bellowed in rage at the loss of it's due. Captain turned control of the helm back the helmspony and turned to face the Dutchman.
She had come about, her prey lost she turned tail and headed back out to sea. Swift noticed a figure standing, dead center astern of the Dutchman, dressed in tattered rags, looking at him. Captain Swift lifted his right hand over his head. the lone figure, responded in kind as the Flying Dutchman, and the storm, faded into a deep fog a then disappeared, as if they had never existed in the first place.
Swift kept his hand high for a few moments for, in thanks for that one pony, the one who had the will to last 700 years of torment, the one who, while plagued by demons and monsters of the flesh and mind but kept pushing to make his mistake right.
"Thank you... Sturdy Bollard." He said softly, gazing were the Dutchman had disappeared. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, he turned to his commander,
"Sooo Rain... about that date you promised...."





(June 2, 1023 A.D.)
"I want to thank you again Admiral Swift Helm. your story will make an amazing addition the the Maritime section of the library." Princess Twilight Sparkle said. She wore a long brown cloak around her clothes. the only thing visible was her face, horn and her arms. To any one frequenting that particular pub at the Baltimare sea side, they would only she an old Pegasus talking with a cloaked, purple Unicorn. Never would they think it was the Princess of friendship.
"It's no trouble at all Twilight, anything for a friend of Rainbow Dash." Swift Helm smiled at his daughters friend.
"I don't want to poke holes in your tale Sir, but I must ask if what you've told me is true? You can understand if I have a bit of a hard time believing it. it just seem like a scary story parents tell their foals to get them to behave." Twilight asked a bit cautiously. She didn't want to come off as rude, and definitely didn't want to call ADMIRAL Swift Helm, highest ranking officer in the Equestrian navy and father to her friend Rainbow dash, a lair. 
Swift Helms face grew stern. Twilight was afraid she had bucked up. She was about to apologize, when The Admiral reached down beside his chair, pulling up a saddle bag. From said Saddle bag, he Removed a very old book. He handled it gingerly, trying not to move it to much. Twilight's mouth dropped open.
"Is that..."
"This is the log book of one Sturdy Bollard, son of Sturdy Keel and the only first hand account of demon ghost ship, the Flying Dutchman." He slowly handed the book to twilight, who reverently excepted it. Gently holding the log like it was a new born baby.
"I've taken good care of it, as best as I could anyway, true to the wishes of its owner. He wanted his warnings and tale told so ponies would know and keep a weather eye out for it." Swift said. Twilight started to open her mouth but was stopped when Swift raised a hand.
"I know your skeptical princess, I would be too if I was in your hooves. But I've never been the one to spin tall tales, that was my late wife's department. I give you the accounts as clearly as I remember them. Whether or not you take them as fact it your choice." Twilight thought about this for a second, then nodded her head and spoke.
"Of course sir, thank you again for taking some time to tell me." Swift smiled at her
"I'm still in the Navy Princess, I couldn't have said no even if I wanted to." He said with a shit eating grin spread across his muzzle. Twilight pouted slightly but her attention was caught when a familiar voice called to her.
"Hey Egg head!" Rainbow Dash came up to the table.
"Pops been boring you to tear with his jar head babble yet?" She grinned at her father who looked slightly insulted.
"I do not babble Dashie." he said, crossing his arms.
"Whatever, Come on egghead, Rarity has been sitting down in front of the mall for nearly half an hour and she looks like she's going to blow a fuse big time." Twilight sighed
"Only Rarity would go crazy over shopping." she giggle slightly at that.
"Oh really?" Rainbow asked,
"I seem to recall a certain brainiac, walking out of a bookstore with nearly half of the books they had in stock... ring any bells?" Rainbow had a smug look on her face as twilight blushed.
"They were having a sale."
"Okay mini-Rarity ." Rainbow cackled. Swift chuckled at the two friends back and forth argument.
"Alright we can go, Sorry about this sir, you know Rainbow can be impatient."
"Don't I know it, you should've seen her when she was three years old and in the bath." Swift said
"DAD!  Don't do the old man routine! it's so not cool." Rainbow said blushing up a storm.
"But how else is a dad supposed to get his daughter back for all those years you drove him up the wall?" Swift asked, smirking. Rainbow huffed in defeat.
"Whatever... Come on Twilight let's get out a here before the old geezer syndrome rubs off on us." Rainbow grabbed Twilight's arm and started dragging her to the door.
"Love you too Dashie." Swift yelled to his daughter. Twilight stopped herself before she was pulled out the door.
"Wait Rainbow, Mr. Helm? I forgot to ask about the ship you commanded, what was it's name?" A look of nostalgia flashed over the old Admiral's face.
"She was the S.E.S. Firm Resistance... and She as the best damn ship I ever sailed, before or since." he said. Twilight smiled at him.
"Thanks again... OKAY Rainbow, Please stop trying to yank my arm off!" Swift Wing laughed to himself as his daughter and Princess Twilight left the little pub. He sat back down, picking up the mug of cider he had left on the table to talk with the princess. Taking a deep draught he savored the flavor and the burn in his throat. As he set the mug down, he shivered. The temperature in the room seemed to drop by a few degrees instantly. He looked around, and there, in the far corner, sat two ponies. One was a Unicorn mare who looked like she'd seen better days. 
Her pale blue mane was matted, bright purple eyes were puffy from crying and she was obviously drunk, and her cloths didn't help the scene. She looked like one of those traveling show ponies he'd seen before, big, pointy wizard hat and all. it was her companion who drew his attention.
His fur was so black it seemed to suck in all light around it and crush it into oblivion. The only contrast was his pure white mane, the color of bleached bone. A simple brown canvas shirt and cotton pants were his cloths and a single rust red cloths was tired around his left bicep. They talked for a bit, then the Stallion pull a roll of parchment from his shirt and Swift's Blood ran cold.
He'd seen this before. He know what was going to happen, He had to stop it. He quickly stood to his feet and started his way over, But was to late. The mare signed to parchment. The Stallion Laughed and said,
"Welcome to the crew! Ms. Lulamoon!" there was a loud clap of thunder, even though it was high noon and clear skies outside. The Stallions eyes flashed green and both he and the mare were gone. Swift stared at where the two had been. His heart broke for the mare. she had no idea what she was getting into. He returned to the table and chugged the rest of his cider, then called for another mug. He'd drink to her. but sadly drinking wouldn't do her much good. Davy Jones, Captain of the Flying Dutchman, had claimed another soul.