Daybreak revealed the outline of a sturdy sailing ship surrounded by swirling wisps of fog as it bobbed on surging waters of a large bay. The steady sound of creaking oars broke the stillness as four steely-armed men urged a longboat towards a stretch of sand nearly hidden by dark craggy rocks. In the prow stood a woman whose black ringlets were wrapped with a bright red scarf providing sharp contrast to her emerald eyes. People called her Lady Mercy because she seldom murdered to provide for her crew when they raided small villages along the coast. She was a legend who’d yet to feel the lash of punishment on her back due to being wily as well as courageous. People often bragged about being pillaged by her as if it was a blessing. This morning, the oarsmen were wondering why they were straining to reach shore when there was no village in sight but her smile said she had knowledge she’d yet to reveal, so they toiled without questioning aloud.
When the boat was secure beyond reach of incoming waves, she directed them to arm themselves with shovels and burlap bags while she unrolled a sheet of parchment that appeared to be a map. Nodding her head as if satisfied with what she saw, she tucked the document into the waistband of her britches, then bade them to gather round. “I know you would prefer to seek gold and jewels,” she said, “but today’s outgoing tide will provide us with treasure of a different sort. We’ll be muddy and tired by evening but tonight your tongues will relish providance beyond previous experience.” Pointing to a rock formation, she continued. “As the tide recedes, we’ll gather some of he finest mussels in the world from those boulders, then dig in the mud for a wealth of cockles, and several varieties of clams we’ll add to the crab your mates are trapping in our absence. We’ve looted and faced peril for some time and I feel we could use a banquet and a rest, so I procured this map from a squaw who knows this area well. The x marks the clam beds instead of where booty might be buried.”
At first, the men’s disappointment showed on their faces, and they grumbled, but as the mud flats came into view, they followed her lead and soon found themselves laughing as they splashed and romped, competing to see who might discover the greatest trove. Late afternoon found them resting on the beach, bags full, awaiting the incoming tide and their return to the ship. Clouds danced in a sunny sky while gulls screeched and soared above. Their arms were tired as they pulled mightily on the short journey back, but their hearts were gay and their minds untroubled. Lady Mercy stood in the prow, looking back at the wilderness they’d barely breached, wondering what lay beyond the green forested hills, knowing she’d never venture there, as the sea was her calling.
That night, stars blazed on a velvet background as the cookpot bubbled–filled with salmon, rockfish, and bass, along with shrimp and crab the crew reaped in their absence, to which they’d added their gleanings. Tots of rum burned their way to bellies soon filled with the bounty of the sea. A juice harp provided the tempo and their songs carried on a gentle breeze carrying scents of evergreen. Such magical moments were rare in a life spent navigating turgid waters and battling stormy weather, so their pleasure ran deep and filled their souls with contentment. Later, sleep brought dreams of new adventures that would further the legend of Lady Mercy and her stalwart crew. Come morning, there’d be sails to unfurl and an anchor to hoist, but for the moment, all was right with the world.