[Critique Group 2] Emailing: Sea Whitch---(Ignore Previous Email) For 2-27-20 critique session

[James]

Sea Whitch
C By Brad Corallo
Word count 907 

The yarns of old men such as I, are often dismissed as exaggerated bits of
daft nonsense or blatantly untrue. But by all that I hold as sacred, I sware
the following story is as true as anything can be.

When I was a lad entering manhood, I proved my worth and skill as a
fisherman here in the Orkney islands. I learned the ancient craft of boat
building and with the help of my mate, Angus, we fashioned one of the
bonniest and most sea worthy fishing boats in all the Orkneys.  

Angus and I were a pair of strong, bonnie, devil may care young fellows who
feared neither the wrath of the angry sea nor that of the Lord himself. 

We both charmed many fair lasses as we were fine singers and could dance a
reel with the best of them.  

As time passed we were also recognized as formidable fishermen with uncanny
luck. Twuz a rare day when we didn't bring home a bountiful catch which we
shared freely with those of our village folk who had fallen on hard times. 

As we earned some good coin, we would sometimes buy fine Orkney whisky which
we would heartily enjoy with our mates around smokey peat fires in their wee
crofts. 

So a couple score years ago, one brisk sunny morning, we boarded our sturdy
vessel, which we had christened the Sea Whitch, and set off upon the tide in
search of a bountiful fishing ground. 
By the blessed hand of fortune, our efforts were rewarded and after we had
netted our share, we shifted sale to head home to the warm welcome we
imagined back on shore.

 Twuz then that a mighty wind did blow up out of no where and we had to
battle with sale and ore to make fair headway. But twuz not only wind that
imperiled the Sea Whitch. The waters became more and more unsettled and a
hard, lashing rain began to pelt our wee craft like blows of the
blacksmith's hammer. 

Then came dark storm clouds which crowded out any blue left in the sky and
hung over us like an oppressive shroud of impending death.

As I have told, Angus and I were men not easily affrighted.   But I must
confess, on this occasion an almost unnatural terror gripped both our
hearts. With each minute that passed, it became more and more clear that we
had little chance of making it back home. 

Let the ney- sayers say what they wish, but in such circumstances even the
most Godless of men entreat the Lord for deliverance. We were no different!

With an unexpectedly violent heave of the sea, we nearly foundered and dear
Angus was lost overside forever.  We had been bonnie friends since we both
learned to walk. At this point, all resolve left me. 

Suddenly the sky cracked with blasts of thunder and lightening flashed. One
bolt, like a bright finger of doom struck and the Sea Whitch was dismasted.
I just missed being struck by a spar or getting tangled in the shredded
rigging. But the trusty bark was damaged beyond repair and began to slowly
take on water. Twuz then I knew it was all finally over. 

As I prepared myself for death, low and behold a large seal swam up and
leapt into the Sea Whitch. I knew then I had finally gone mad with fear. By
some process I cannot explain, the creature began to shed its glistening
pelt. So that ultimately a beautiful, dark haired, dark eyed maiden stood
naked and unashamed before me.  As this was happening, unrealized by me at
first, the waters were beginning to settle and calm.

To my amazement she spoke thusly: "be unafraid my fair young mariner, I am
Bruokenn, queen of the Selkie Folk and daughter to she who commands all the
seas of Earth. I was deeply sorrowed by the death of your bonnie friend and
have calmed my mother's capricious temper. I would not have it that your
life as well was needlessly sacrificed. I have laid an enchantment upon thy
vessel and twill make it back to shore with no travails. I banish this storm
of the Goddess's making and your life is justly spared."

 And so saying, to my everlasting surprise, she embraced me and I knew no
more until I seemed to awaken from a dream. Still in my mind I heard her
words strangely echoing: "dear fisherman, may your heart always be filled
with the joy thou hadst ere the loss of dear Angus and may all your future
endeavors flourish." 

There is not much more of my story to tell. With the help of her remaining
ores I brought the Sea Whitch home to her cove and gratefully went ashore.
Though I had lost the heart for the fisherman's life, I turned to the noble
occupation of shipwright. My name and reputation as a maker of the finest
sea going vessels became widely known in the Orkneys and even beyond. I made
a fine living, was widely respected and had many dear friends. But whenever
a storm blew up suddenly, I would make my way to the shore. And if ever I
did behold a seal, my pulse would quicken and a precious warmth; like no
other feeling I have ever known, would fill my heart with peace and
gratitude.  

jamesstarfire at gmail.com  
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