Upon the TideC.S. Grady / History & Fiction / Western
Upon the Tide
By: C.S. Grady
Copywright 2014 C.S. Grady
Treasure hunting is a lot like sticking your hand in a bowl of piranha and hoping to pull out a goldfish. I've never caught a goldfish, but I have yet to lose a finger. I have a warehouse full of nick knacks and whatnots that may be of value to someone, so I have decided to Auction off what has little to no value tome or the Historical community as a whole in hopes that someone out there has a want for derelict ship furniture, or practically anonyms letters.
The following are some of the first items I found. Diving off the coast of South America, I found the wreckage of schooner. There was not much left to the ship, most had been carried away by the tides of the Horn. The Keel was relatively intact, it had how become the home of more than a dozen different sea creatures.
I found a wax lined tube, I was sure I would find something of great value, some long lost Picasso, an original copy of the Colonies Declaration of Independents, or maybe a lost book of the Bible. It was however nothing more than a set of letters, correspondents between a captain and what I believe to be his Sister in Law.
Thank you for your interest and I hope you enjoy.
My Dear Sister Marry Ann,
I know I promised a letter from California to tell you of our trip, and to tell how Kristoff faired on his first long journey. We had a fast turn around and a few issues that required my full attention. It was not until Kristoff was bragging that he had sent you a letter that I realized I had failed to send you one myself. Based on the writings he has shown me, I am sure you will receive a well-written letter. He almost assuredly told you we had a few storms, but nothing to dangerous. Just a white lie to appease his worrisome mother, because I promised to tell you the truth.
The sea was against us the entire trip, crosswinds and squalls, scurvy, rotten food, sickness, and a few deaths. There was a day I wondered if we would make it to a safe harbor. I tell you all this not to frighten you but to set a scene, so you will understand how your son helped keep us on course, how he saved us.
You often commented on Kristoff's jovial attitude, his ability to turn even his father's stone face to a smile. If only for that, he would have been a godsend, but his bravery did not stop there. You have heard me tell of the Horn, the southern tip of South America, of its storms and cross currents. I myself have seen a ship lost to its torrent, its planks torn from beneath my very own feet. I told you and Kristoff those stories, after Lars was lost at sea, in hopes of discouraging him from following the trade of his father. Unfortunately, as you know, much like his father the call of the sea was greater than the call of common sense.
We had sailed wide, I hoped once we drew the sails the Pacific current would pull us around the Horn, as it had done many times in the past. It was just past dusk, another ship set upon us, the night watch caught sight of them just in time to sound the call to arms. However, it was Kristoff who roused the crew before the bell. With his sharp eye, quick thinking, and unwillingness to back down that saved the ship.
The daughter and wife of a sailor, and if I recall correctly you even had young Kris on the voyage across from Europe, you know the greenhorns have to leave their land name at the dock. They are worse than the rats we toss overboard, never part of the crew until they have earned their sea name and been baptized in a waters that do not touch their home. Well I am proud to tell you if he has not already that young Kristoff earned his place on the crew as more than just my nephew, he is now Macaco. Bento, my Portuguese first mate tells me it means Monkey; I guess we have to trust him as none of us speaks the language.