The ship approached, cutting through the waves with the ease and grace of a swan on water. Down below the crew were springing into action, each with their specific duty and zigzagging around the other comrades as they hurriedly readied the ship for battle.
Glancing over to the advancing frigate the deck was empty. There was not the hustle and bustle of their own ship but an eerie stillness.
Entranced by the crew-less ship Catalina overlooked the urgent shouts of the men above her and with a fleeting look upwards, recognised the yardarm falling towards her. She swang out of the way but too late, the wooden beam came crashing to the deck, with a startled Catalina entangled in the splintered timber and frayed ropes.
'Catalina?' Thomas was at her side almost immediately, concern filled his eyes.
She could just about make out his brown mop of hair framing his face but he grew dimmer and the reply wasn't able to leave her lips.
'Catalina,' he repeated, 'Keep calm, you've sustained a wound to your leg.'
A wound? Looking down she could see the shard of the yardarm sticking out of her leg and her head began to swim.
'Catalina! Stay with me now.' Thomas urged, 'You there! Jim, Garrett! Take this girl to the carpenter's cabin. She'll need this out before infection. Quick!'
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