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 |    My random thoughts and reactions to my everyday life. The voices like a forum. |
| Prompt: Tuesday, April 6 Ghost Ship: The Mary Celeste On December 4, 1872, a British-American ship called “the Mary Celeste” was found empty and adrift in the Atlantic. It was found to be seaworthy and with its cargo fully intact, except for a lifeboat, which it appeared had been boarded in an orderly fashion. But why? We may never know because no one on board was ever heard from again. In November 1872, the Mary Celeste set sail from New York bound for Genoa, Italy. She was manned by Captain Benjamin Briggs and seven crew members, including Briggs’ wife and their 2-year-old daughter. Supplies on board were ample enough for six months, and luxurious—including a sewing machine and an upright piano. Commentators generally agree that to precipitate the abandonment of a seaworthy ship, some extraordinary and alarming circumstance must have arisen. However, the last entry on the ship’s daily log reveals nothing unusual, and inside the ship, all appeared to be in order. Theories over the years have included mutiny, pirate attack, and an assault by a giant octopus or sea monster. In recent years, scientists have posed the theory that fumes from alcohol on board caused an explosion that, as a result of a scientific anomaly, did not leave behind signs of burning—but was terrifying enough that Briggs ordered everyone into the lifeboat. Give us your opinion of what happened. Maybe you were even there?! If you are reading this, my journal, I must be long departed from this earth. I hid this recounting where no man would think to look. Well, I kept it from prying eyes and salacious tongues while I still breathed. This must mean that the walls of my home have been torn down. They were stout walls, they could not have fallen. Renovation or rebuild? Yes, it's of no bearing. Now the truth will out. This then is a firsthand telling, my recollection of what became of the people aboard the Mary Celeste. I swear on their memory that this is the truth. We set sail from New York under a cloudless sky. All of us anticipated a smooth crossing. I'd never been to Italy and I looked forward to visiting this exotic country. While this could not be considered my first ocean passing the others treated me as a newbie. I had not signed on to be a scullery maid, but the cook needed an assistant. The captain lent him me to keep him from grumbling not that the cook complained less. He always barked his demands and I became twitchy. I'm afraid I spilled more than one pot and dropped my fair share of dishes. During the day, I scuttled about under the deck unaware of time or weather. After the evening meal and after the cook had slumped off to sleep full of grog, I crept up to the deck to inhale deeply of fresh salt air. All the noises were familiar and comforting. Creaking and groaning responded to the slapping of the waves. Flapping sails pulled at their metal moorings which clanked. One sound cut through all of this though. From the captain's quarters a melancholy wave of notes wove themselves 'round and 'round. Once I peered into a misty window to see Mrs. Briggs swaying as she stroked the piano keys. I did not recognize the tune. It did not resemble any of the sea shanties I could sing. It had a haunting quality. Night after night, these piano chords invaded our senses. All of us began to stumble and mumble. We lost the ability to reason. We quarreled. We lost our appetites. The cook ignored his duties and I had no one to order me about. No one rigged the sails. No one stood at the ship's wheel. We were drifting. One evening amidst a dense fog, a rough hand shook me from my stupor and shoved me up the steps to the deck. Two of the crew were battling with heavy ropes for the swinging lifeboat. They struggled as if in slow motion and the captain shouted. His words were snatched away, but he gestured at the lowering boat. I nodded unsteady on my feet. With the lifeboat bobbing and butting the ship, we climbed down to it, one by one. I had no idea why we seemed to be abandoning the ship. Mr. Briggs had the authority and I simply obeyed. With a mighty heave from some of the men, we separated from our craft. I shivered to see the empty-eyed stare of our captain. We all avoided eye contact as we clung to the thin walls battered by the sea. Wave after wave crashed against us. No one offered to row and so we sat in silence. Time evaporated, minutes, or hours I cannot say. Something jostled us from both sides. The captain arose suddenly as if to stand, but no, he'd been snatched. I watched in horror as he did not resist. I caught glimpses of long flowing hair framing a pair of glinting green eyes as he seemed to be pulled into the sea. A tail, a powerful scaled tail wrapped his torso. I heard splashing as the dark water churned. One by one everyone left the lifeboat in the same manner. Not a one called out, or protested. I recall my feeble thrashing and my desperate attempts to breathe. I awoke alone on a sandy beach. Gasping, I crawled away from the surging surf. Time ceased to exist. I survived for what may have been months, I don't know. A steamer passing by rescued me and whisked me to England. I never divulged my true identity nor did I speak of the ordeal. I had been accepted as a castaway. Who would believe me anyway? Mermaids are supposed to be mythical creatures.(approx. 670 words) |
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