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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Three times the Master spoke and three times the capstan broke. Decks awash with briny spume, the storm raged in the gathering gloom. 'Pull in that spar or else we're doomed!' Above the roar the Master boomed. The crew strained on the halyard taut, but all their effort came to nought. The crew cried, 'Turn her into the lee, we must ride out this cruel sea!' But the Master would have none of that and threatened them all with a dose of the 'cat'. In a last ditch effort for death or glory, the Master called for John McRory. Up from the galley the ships cook came, twenty stones in a six foot six frame. Grabbing the lanyard he started to pull, sheet and spar were billowing full. Muscle and sinew strained to the core, the cruel Master urged him for more. A freak gust of wind caught the billowing sail, and the man mountain's strength began to fail. He was cast out to sea, like a lure on a line, and they watched as he sank 'neath the boiling brine. All eyes on the Master, eyes filled with hate, they moved forward as one and he foresaw his fate. They hoisted him up and with one accord, like unwanted jetsam, threw him overboard. Some days later they limped into a port, sought out the authorities and gave their report, of a hapless ships cook who paid a high price, and a brave ships Master's bold sacrifice. And as the crew drank a toast to the Captain and cook, they smiled a wry smile and gave a knowing look.
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