Chicks dig pirates

“Batten down the hatches, men! If this storm wants this ship, she can pry it out of me cold dead hands!” Captain Hawk Blackburn shouted as the waves crashed against his ship, The Black Rose. The Black Rose was the most daunting ship on the seven seas. She had deep maroon sails, her black and gold trim standing out against the blue of the sea.

“Captain! I fear it’s the Locker for us!” A crewmen shouted. “Aye! The Locker it may be, but I’ll dance with Jack Ketch before I see The Rose go down.” Blackburn replied.

The winds roared and whistled as the hurricane, the crew battled, raged on. The crew raced around the ship doing multiple tasks while the Captain was at the helm. He gripped the wheel desperately fighting the waves. Left, right, hold! As if he and the ocean were in a duel of swords. The sweat on his brow mixed with the splashes drenched him. Hours and hours the crew tirelessly fought; finally, calmer seas were on the horizon.

A loud cackle of laughter, like a mad man, erupted from the helm. Blackburn yelled down to his crew, “Aye me hearties! Davy Jones waits longer for you lot.”

As the laugh rang out to the crew a rogue wave came over the helm and knocked Blackburn off his feet. He slid on water-soaked boards of the ship. A guttural scream escaped the captain’s lips. He looks down to see a broken board from the railing of the helm protruding from one side of his right calf to the other. His first mate, Ace, runs to his side. “Captain! ‘Awk, oh blimey.” Ace said in his thick Cockney accent. Ace grabbed the belt from around his waist and tied it around Blackburn’s thigh, twisting it tight to constrict the blood. “William! James! Help me get the captain below deck.” Will and James ran up to Ace, both taken aback by the captain in such a state. “Blimey you scallywags! We ‘aven’t got all day.” They grabbed Blackburn, one on each leg while Ace grabbed him from under the armpits. Blackburn gritted and growled in pain as they brought him below deck. The men laid him on a table in the quarters, moving with the motion of the now settling sea. “‘Ere ‘Awk. Bite down on this.” Ace shoved an old piece of leather in his mouth. “Tie him down boys.” Ace said to Will and James. He turned to Blackburn. “This is going to ‘urt now. Probably pass out from the pain. Don’t worry, mate. The Rose will be in good ‘ands until you get your strength back. I’ll look after ‘er.” Before Blackburn could grunt anything in response, Ace looked at the two crewmen, “Grab the leg.” With one hard yank, Ace pulled the broken board from Blackburn’s calf. Blackburn gritted his teeth into the leather hard. Sweat pouring down his face, eyes widen with pain. His muffled screams ending in growls as he fought the restraints and the men holding him down.

The last thing he sees before he passes out from the pain is Ace pull his sword out of his sheath and hold it high above his head. “Sorry Captain.” Ace says right before he brings the sword down as hard as he could onto Blackburn’s shin and the captain’s world turns black.

“‘Awk! ‘Awk. Captain!” Ace repeated as he slightly shook Blackburn.

“Captain. Come on, mate. Captain!” Hawk could feel himself coming too. He could hear Ace’s voice pulling him through the fog.

“Come on, man. Wake up. Hawk, Christian, please.” Ace’s cockney accent had been replaced with a smooth English accent. As Hawk opened his eyes, he saw there was no pirate ship. Instead, he was in a hospital room. He blinks and starts to sit up. “Easy, mate. You lost a lot of blood.” Ace says. Hawk was confused. He sees a white board on the far wall.

It reads:

“Patient: Christian Hawk Blackburn.

DOB: 07/14/1986.

Objective for the day: Wake from surgery.”

“Surgery? You cut my leg off, Ace. I hardly call that surgery when you use a buccaneer’s sword.” Hawk said. Still groggy from waking up.

“What are you on about, mate?” Ace replied. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure it is just the anesthesia and shock.” A man in a white coat says. He approaches Hawk’s bed. “Hello, Christian. My name is Dr. William Jameson. I am your surgeon. Do you recall why you’re here?”

“It’s Hawk. Captain Hawk Blackburn. I was on my ship, The Black Rose, when it was caught in a hurricane. Just as we were clearing the storm, a rogue wave hit the helm. My right lower leg was impaled with a broken board. My first mate, Ace and two deck hands, William and James…oh crap.” Hawk trailed off as he put two and two together that he had imagined the entire pirate tale. He threw off his blankets to reveal his right leg was missing from the knee down.

“It’s okay, Hawk. You had an accident. You were sailing off the coast of San Diego when a rogue wave capsized your boat.” Dr. Jameson said.

“I tried to get you, mate.” Ace said remorsefully. “I saw you go down and I was on my way to you, but it all happened so fast.”

“What happened?” Hawk asked desperately.

Dr. Jameson continued, “Where your boat capsized, Hawk, was a major feeding ground for sharks. The bite on your leg confirmed it was a great white. It was an unfortunate case of wrong place, wrong time. Thankfully the wave wasn’t any bigger or it could have been worse. You were bleeding profusely and causing more sharks to come towards you. You were still conscious up until the beach patrol and Ace got you on the shore. From there you were air lifted to UC San Diego Medical Center where we tried our best to save your leg, but unfortunately it was to mangled. You lost a lot of blood. That mixed with the trauma you endured is most likely why you imagined your pirate story. You heard us talking through your coma like state, picked bits and pieces of what you heard, and wove a tale to fit your situation. Interesting, really. Now that you’re awake, we will continue to monitor you for a few days and then we will talk about discharge.”

Dr. Jameson left the room. Hawk wore a look of shock as he took in everything the doc had just said. “What am supposed to do now?” he said. “Get a freaking peg leg?”

Ace, always the joker, playfully hit Hawk on the arm. “Don’t worry,” he said, “Chicks dig pirates.”