Happy Season Finale Day, in which Caption Greene gives to the poor what he’s taken from the rich:) This has been a slower season, and the hardest to write so far. I am stoked for next season, which is set to have a COLLAB CROSSOVER episode or two with one of the best fiction authors in my acquaintance!

I'll be honest, the beginning of this episode was hit or miss with my critique group! Some people feeling like the division of spoils helps immerse them in the episode and others felt like it was cool but not really necessary. Rather than cut it, I decided to let you in on the discussion. When you get to the end, comment or message to tell me what you think! You could help me decide whether it stays in should I ever put the seasons together in a physical or digital book!

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If you need to catch up on past episodes, you can find all of them here.
Don’t forget—all of the writing and art is human made. No AI!
Most of the art is public domain, but occasionally I throw a silly doodle of my own in here:)

And lastly, if you want to listen to the shanties included in this series, you can find the official Spotify playlist here. Enjoy your last episode for this season, friends!

Once more we sail with the northerly gale, towards our island home
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done, and we ain’t got far to roam
Our stu’n’s’l bones is carried away, what care we for that sound?
A living gale is after us, thank God we’re homeward bound

Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys, rolling down to Old Maui
We’re homeward bound from the Arctic Ground
Rolling down to Old Maui

“All together, we’ve recovered twenty-seven barrels of rice, four barrels of rice wine, ten crates of tea, two of porcelain and four of fine silk.” Captain Greene listed off to Stutely, Weaver, Hudson and Cook the evening of the raid on the junk. “Cook, have the men stow one barrel of rice wine and four of rice. You may open one of each to celebrate our victory today. And you may use the entirety of one of the hogs hunted on the island. We will restock very soon.”

Cook touched his brow in salute and left with a smile.

“Stutely, report our prize to the men and confirm that no one is opposed to the usual method of handling for our portion.”

“Aye, sir.” And off he went.

“Now, you two. Your men account for roughly twenty percent of the total crew. It’s difficult to divide such a prize. If there are spare barrels, we can divide each perfectly evenly by weight. Or we can give and take with the various items.”

“That’s more than acceptable, sir. Wouldn’t you agree, Hudson?”

“Aye, sir. Of course.”

“Your portion comes out to 5 ⅖ barrels of rice, ⅘ of a barrel of rice wine, two crates of tea ⅖ of a crate of porcelain, and ⅘ of a crate of fine silk.”

“We’ll not have use of any of this, especially not fine silks. I’m still not perfectly sure we should have taken any of this,” Hudson admitted.

“It’s yours none-the-less, according to our previous agreement. You’re welcome to sell it or use it to trade for passage. But we could do an even six barrels of rice and skip the silk?

“Make sense to me. Do you think the men will approve, Clement?”

He nodded.

“And a full barrel of rice wine, in exchange for your portion of the porcelain, if you’d like?”

“I think everyone would agree to that.”

“I’ll have you check in with your crew, actually. We like to do things democratically around here. Let me know if anyone objects. I’ll see you at the dogwatch.”

“Aye,” both men said in unison and rose to leave the captain’s cabin.

Outside the door, Jack grabbed Clement’s arm.

“Weaver, what are you going to tell young Gruffyd?”

He exhaled slowly, nearly a growl. “Nothing. I’ve thought about this. He was never supposed to know his role this early in the process.”

“How will you explain–”

“Since when,” Weaver interrupted, “do captains explain their actions to the youngest sailors on their crew?”

Hudson shifted and considered the question silently.

“No, it’s safer if he knows as little as possible. He may have more questions now, but there are no answers I can safely give him.”

“Understood.” Hudson answered. He wasn’t sure that was truly the best route. But he had no firm argument against it. There was nothing more he could say.

A week went by with much feasting on pork, double portions of rice and daily rations of rice wine. At Greene’s command, the helmsmen brought the Lincoln near twenty degrees north and continued westward. The east asian coast had come into view. There was heated discussion, bordering on debate, amongst those after the mast regarding where to land.

Finally, Greene signalled to drop anchor in a wide bay fed by a broad river. His crew drew lots to decide who would stay and guard the ship. And then boats were dropped to carry men ashore. Ashore is a loose term for, as they rowed toward the village situated along the banks of the river, they discovered there was no shore at all. All the buildings stood tranquilly on tall stilts, like cranes waiting for fish to pass.

It was late afternoon, when you can feel the warmth of the sun slackening off. The sun kissed the thick, forested mountains turning the stilt-houses into mere silhouettes.

National Museum of Singapore, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The boats floated several fathoms from all of the elevated buildings, except Captain Greene’s. He and a Chinese-Portuguese man named Rui who would be his translator climbed a ladder to a wooden walkway bordering a series of homes. He spoke to one person, then another, and another. They bowed vigorously, and pointed farther west. The boats rowed along, following him up river.

Finally, Greene and Rui called past the cloth curtain hanging in the doorway of a large home. A man came out and bowed and then stood resolutely. By his knit brows and inspecting demeanor, the men could tell he questioned the Captain and Rui. Rui gestured toward the boats and the ship and spoke very quickly. The man began to nod and a look of surprise, then skepticism, then surprise again painted his face.

The man called out and half a dozen other men came out of the houses and ran to join the conversation. There was some explanation and then nodding all around and then Greene called the boats over. As Jack had guessed by that point, Greene explained that the men from the village would go with a small party in the boats to inspect the cargo. Maybe they would trade for more meat.

As the shantyman helped row toward a ladder in a row of houses, he mused on all the ways humans communicated with one another. There were words, of course. But then there were facial expressions, hand gestures, body language, not to mention music, art, and so many other creative forms of expression. Yes, there was much strife in the world. But there was even more beauty. Disembarking there, in a city built on air above the water at the foot of the beautiful blue-green hills, he felt assured that everything would be okay. With such loveliness in the world and really, so many honorable men in the world, surely everything would turn out alright.

Stutely and Rui and two more sailors accompanied the men back to the Lincoln. In the meantime, the rest of the crew sat with their legs hanging off the small pier-like walkways. The locals stood in their doorways, watching and talking amongst themselves.

The bay, being deep, allowed the Lincoln to anchor fairly close. The trip to and fro didn’t take long. The men came back speaking excitedly, drawing the people all the way out of their houses. Women gasped and cheered. And Broad smiles grew on the faces of all Greene’s men.

“What’s the hullabaloo?” Mac asked.

“They’ve just been told about the recovered cargo.” Daley answered.

“Oh, did Zheng steal it from here?”

View of Canton, See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fi...

“No, but this is where Greene will leave it. Our portion anyways.”

“As in, he’ll trade here?” Mac questioned further.

“No, he put a very small portion in the hold. But the rest will be distributed in this village for them to use or trade.” Daley explained.

Hudson and Gruffyd shared a glance.

“Weaver was right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Greene and Morris would have been quite a force to be reckoned with.”

Mac nodded silently at first, remembering Captain Morris’ instructions to keep them both alive.

“I know you’ll agree that we should give our portion, too.” Gruffyd said to Hudson.

“Yes, but Greene will want everyone who came aboard with us to agree as well.” Jack reminded him.

Of course, Weaver readily agreed. So did most of the crew. But Higgins struggled. And though Weaver loathed to claim him as his own crewman, the Irishman had been marooned with them and collected with them. In Greene’s eyes, his vote mattered.

“We could use those to buy our way home. Or at least feed us along the way! We earned it fair and square; that was the deal.” Patrick argued.

“Fair and square was a stretch. We stole back stolen goods. And Greene won’t force us to give it up. But we would need a unanimous decision.” Hudson replied.

“But now that we have it, it doesn’t make sense to give it up.”

“Patrick, surely you know that often the very best of decisions makes little sense. Almost nothing courageous makes rational sense. You haven’t been with us long. But no matter how dark things have seemed, how dire the situation, there has always been a way forward. This cargo will change these people’s lives.”

“It will change their lives without our portion.”

“And you don’t want to be a part of that? All the while you’re here, well fed and cared-for on the Lincoln.”

Patrick growled. He thought of his family at home, how he didn’t know which of them survived the sickness and hunger rampant in Ireland when he left. If a kind stranger would drop food and goods to trade at their door, he would have kissed their feet.

“Aye, give it all to them.” he assented.

“Bless you, lad.” Hudson shook his hand joyfully and strode down the walkway to notify the boats to get all of the remaining cargo.

Hua Yan (Hua Yen), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Later that evening, when the cool evening raised everyone’s spirits, Greene sat on a cushion on a wooden walkway outside one of the largest houses. He’d watched Hudson convince Higgins to give up their share and he’d watched Higgins stare off into a memory a world away, grasping for something.

He leaned over to Weaver, who smiled at the Chinese man across from him because he didn’t know what else to do without a translator.

“I’ve been thinking,” Greene said. “It seems like the missions and forts in the Americas might enjoy some Chinese goods. Maybe we should head there next….Costa Rica, perhaps? We still have plenty of cargo worth trading.”

Weaver took a sip from his glass to hide his smile. The Americas, where the isthmus was narrow and they could walk across in a fraction of the time it would take to round the horn again.

“You seem a good bunch. I’d hate to lose you.” Greene admitted.

“You seem a good bunch. I hate to leave. But if crossing the isthmus of central america is what we have to do to get back to Wales, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Well then, we’ll leave tomorrow to resupply and begin our crossing today week.”

Weaver grasped Greene’s hand in thanks. Each captain ate his roasted fish with a fresh sense of satisfaction. Greene raised his cup of rice wine, Weaver and their host followed suit.

“To safe voyages and successful missions.” Green toasted.

“Cheers.”

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