At dawn Kael Grylls dragged himself upright on the beach. Everything in his vision came doubled.
Out on the sand two overcharged monsters had already started their morning routine.
"Ora ora ora ora."
"Muda muda muda muda."
Roger with a blade, Gaban with twin axes, the two were trading blows for no discernible reason other than sheer momentum and noise.
Steel rang on steel. Their bellows boomed. Unmuffled shockwaves pounded what was left of Kael's fragile nerves.
"Morning, Kael. Sleep well," Roger called between exchanges, flashing teeth.
"Sleep your head," Kael muttered, clutching his skull. His brains felt like curdled tofu.
"Young folks recover too slowly," Gaban said, splitting a slash and still finding time to shake his head in critique.
A ribbon of coffee aroma drifted in, the sole salvation in the chaos.
Rayleigh sat by the dead campfire, unhurried, heating a small pot of coffee as if the racket did not exist. "Cup," he offered, passing Kael a wooden mug.
Kael crawled over in reverent gratitude. Warmth slid down his throat and peeled back a layer of confusion.
"By the way," Kael said, eyeing the battered dinghy they had left beached, "we need to talk transport. Cram one more person in that thing, namely Mr. Gaban, and it will sink out of protest. You three might survive. I will not."
Rayleigh sipped and contemplated the hull. He nodded. "It has fulfilled its purpose."
"Hey now, how can you say that," Roger said. He and Gaban had somehow finished training and now stood by, Roger patting the little ship with theatrical heartbreak. "She is our first companion at sea. You cannot just toss her aside."
The hull complained with a long unhappy creak under his iron palm.
"Right," Gaban boomed. "A ship's worth is the dream it carries, not how new the planks are."
Kael stared at the two hot-blooded idiots. "Gentlemen, the soul of this vessel is about to check in to the next world." He pointed at the cracks plugged with seaweed and muck, then at the mast that looked one sigh away from martyrdom. "Also, Mr. Gaban, your frame and those two axes that weigh at least a hundred pounds each. You sure it will not split in half when we step aboard."
"Kuahahaha. Trifles," Roger said with a sweeping gesture. "A true pirate can cross the sea on a plank. This is perfect survival training."
"I do not want that kind of training." Kael's roar rolled the shoreline.
In the end Kael's protest was crushed two to one, Rayleigh abstaining. They reached a grand consensus. Ride the death trap for now. Save up for a bigger ship fast.
Under Kael's mournful stare, Roger and Gaban cheerfully loaded luggage, which meant barrels of rum and bundles of jerky. With every item the hull groaned and sank a little lower.
When it was Kael's turn he stood at the gunwale like a man before the gallows, took a breath, and patted the weathered plank. "Old friend, you have done your best. If we do sink, please do it slowly, give me time to grab a board."
"Kael, what are you dawdling for. Cast off," Roger hollered from the bow.
Kael clenched his teeth, shut his eyes, and stepped aboard.
Your boy is so dead.
Screeeeak.
The plank underfoot screamed long and thin. The entire boat lurched toward him, nearly flipping him straight into the drink.
"See. I said so." Kael went paper white, clutching the rail.
"Relax, she is just saying hello," Roger said with a grin as the little boat wobbled off the sand and bobbed into blue water.
Disaster struck the instant they left shore.
Thump.
Something banged below. A geyser shot up through a gap in the deck and baptized Kael head to toe.
"Leak. That is where Roger dropped the barrel," Kael sputtered.
"Small problem." Roger glanced once, grabbed a stray stopper from an empty cask, jogged over, and stomped it into the hole.
Thunk.
The fountain stopped.
"Fixed," he said, dusting his hands with the look of a genius.
Kael's eye twitched. Was this man serious. That was a bandage on a severed artery.
Before he could finish cursing, Rayleigh said calmly, "Roger, the sail will not rise."
They looked over. Rayleigh was hauling on the halyard. The other end was empty. The frayed rope had parted cleanly. The big sail flopped like a giant net and swallowed Gaban beneath it.
"Mmff," came a muffled grunt.
"Gaban-san, duct tape," Kael yelped.
The canvas swelled. A thick arm punched through and gave a thumbs up. "I am fine. Tough canvas. Good cloth."
"Kuahahaha. Gaban, you can help hold the sail up," Roger said, unbothered.
So for the rest of the voyage Gaban became a human mast, bracing the canvas with his bulk and arms to catch the wind.
Kael ran out of words. Nerves, too.
"Hm," Rayleigh murmured at the helm.
Cold dread ticked down Kael's spine. He turned to see Rayleigh lift his right hand.
There was a lonely wooden handle in it, splintered at the base.
The tiller handle.
It had broken.
The ship's steering wheel of sorts now existed as half a stick in the first mate's hand.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Only wind and waves.
Kael's jaw sagged. He turned to stone.
"Oh my," Rayleigh said, studying the broken wood with mild concern. "That is inconvenient."
"Kuahahahaha," Roger howled, shattering the spell. "Fantastic. Even the rudder is gone. This trip will not be dull."
He turned to Gaban, eyes shining like beets. "Gaban. Lend me an axe."
Gaban brightened, instantly tracking Roger's plan. "Great idea. Stick the blade in the water and steer like a paddle."
"Exactly."
They high-fived like they had solved global hunger.
"No medicine on earth can help," Kael wailed. "Are you going to dismantle the ship for parts."
No one heard his despair. Gaban passed over an axe. Roger dashed aft, plunged the massive blade into the sea, and waggled it side to side like a canoe paddle.
The boat began to advance in an elegant S-curve that would make a snake seasick.
Kael surrendered. He sagged against the deck while cold spray slapped his face at random.
The man who aimed to be the King of Connections now had one thought. If a Sea King swallowed them, maybe his connections would work in its stomach.
"Yo ho, lads, sing it out," Roger yelled, paddling and conducting at once.
"Binks' Sake, we bring to you…"
Gaban and Rayleigh hummed along. The hearty tune drifted over the sea.
Kael covered his face. He realized he had not boarded a pirate ship.
He had boarded an asylum that happened to be on a pirate ship.