Hitting the high C

Having balanced the demands of the helm with the joys of chronic substance abuse for so long, the fact that Captain Dirty was not yet in some watery grave was a sure sign of outrageous fortune. Indeed, except by Neptune’s whim, how else was he still on the drink and not in it?

The masses say that behind every great man, there has to be a great woman. Of what is found behind the irretrievable souse, however, the great unwashed seldom speak.

And yet it was no surprise that in the squalid drunk’s wake bobbed a once-great woman so bent, broken and beat by her husband’s ignominy that she was but a fraction of her former self. Plainly, keeping the soap-dodger on the deck and out of the blue had reduced the mighty marchioness of Rockingham to the miniature malefactor of Ramsgate.

As taming his vice was as futile as taming the tide, she fostered his oblivion by topping up his grog, snatching respite while he was out cold. In these lulls she entertained herself by taking candy from babies and devising her own shanties. Her latest ditty, ‘Who wants to skewer the hog-tied coastguard?’ would prove a most excellent ship’s anthem.


Bard
Lady Gordon, Fugitive Marchioness
Likes: maulin'
Dislikes: musicals