The last thing I remember was a spot of dirty weather and the captain yelling through his beard! The next time I saw sunlight, my face and fingers didnt feel right! There was a pint of briny stowed in either ear! Bits of boat and sail confused a glassy sea. Though much abused, the tempest, in the end, had let me live! Floating cold and dead, the captains sideboard knocked against my head! Inside were rum and a soaking crust of bread!

Oh! Hey-ho for the captains sideboard!


Come evening time a reddened eye gazed down and set the seas awry! The stirring surge revealed a thick-tongued cry! Not alone; a bubbling moan! I likened it to pale-blue toes? Just there! A pale-blue face oer pale-blue bones!


Oh! Hey-ho for the corpse of Feyrac!

The semi-buoyant first-mate had expired, met a dampened fate! But he blinked and swam, at least, at a mortal rate?. He beckoned me, where could I run? He asked if I knew how far hed come. The captain had sent him up to fetch the rum!


Oh! Hey-ho, for the drowned are thirsty!


I wondered if a ghost could drink the ghost of rum, for the bottle tinkled clear and empty; I was long since done. He waited there, I scratched my hair; I needed rum but how and where? I longed to cut away but hardly dared! Old Feyracs drowned and swimming face implied the course was clear. My fate was death at sea, and I was late. Standing, knife in hand, I plunged the blade into my stomach and the fount was bottled up, as Feyrac planned.

Oh! And I went to join my Captain!