The Brandy Run

After the dropping of the smugglers off the Brig turned back out in to the bay. The ship dipped and rolled in the increasing wind, spray crossed the desk dampening the spirit of the captain, money was one thing but spay soaked clothes on a cold night could make anyone miserable. The wind groaned in the rigging and the sails creaked against the breeze. Up in the Crow's Nest a sailor called down, it was all clear ahead.

The Captain stumbled down the narrow stairway, and along the companionway to his cabin, He sat down and looked at his charts spread across his desk, he need to get across to France to pick up the next consignment of brandy, but he was worried about the weather and the about the brandy smugglers. He'd heard stories of them beating those who had been late with collection. But the halo around the moon he'd seen on his way down to the cabin was a portent of a storm.


However after reading the barometer and seeing it set at Fair, he needed time to think of the gamble ahead an whether to risk the crossing. He selected a quill, sharpened it and started writing in his log and tried to think. Finally he decided go for the crossing and anyway what sort of Captain would he be if he didn't take risks. After telling the men of his decision, retired back to his cabin.

The wave that hit knocked the captain out of his bunk. He scrambled up and went out into the companionway as another wave hit as he looked at the stairway water was cascading down the step like a series of waterfalls, up on deck spay lashed, around water crashed over the side again, The Boson tried to tell the captain how the storm came out of nowhere, but the wind carried his words away along with spay.

It was pitch-black and the only light was from the ships lanterns, a mere flicker in the black void. The crew hanging on to the yards trying to reef the sail while the wind screamed though the rigging and sails started to rip, the mast was bending.

“Cut the mainsails away” yelled the captain. He had no alternative, if he didn't cut loose them he may loose the ship and everyone to Davey Jones' Locker, The men in the rigging started hacking at the ropes to the and as the sail ripped away it hung on the last rope for a second flapping like a sad flag before ripping away and disappearing in to the darkness.

With the mainsail gone the ship was a lot more calmed down but the wave tossed the around ship like a cornered wild horse. Wave after wave broke across the deck every few seconds and the crew were getting knocked off their feet and were likely to swept overboard. As the crew could not do much now expect hope the captain ordered them below, he was was captain and it was his ship the boson stayed above deck too and they lashed themselves to the wheel and tried to keep the ship facing into the wind and ride out the storm.

After about hour the wind dropped and quickly as it had risen, and eerie silence fell across the ship. Looking a ghostly blue glow started to appeared the top of the masts and end of the yards. The crew who were slowly emerging from below and looked in awe at the display, many of them fell to their knees and prayed.

On the horizon lightning flickered and played between clouds but over time the storm disappeared and the lights faded.

The captain called up his men and set them to work making good the storm damage, most of the sails had been torn, but they had enough canvas to move, however they had no idea where the were they could be anywhere in a within 50 miles. The captain having had this much bad luck decided not to attract any more and decided to limp to France and pick up is cargo, He headed South East and hoped to soon see the French coast and work out where they were and from there head into port.