Hell's Gate

The barometer was falling fast, and the winds were pickin' up. We secured the lifelines along the gunnel and shortened sail for comin' tack. Seas were runnin' high with great swells, and hatches were battened down. We all knew what was a comin', for this small ship of the crown. I took my place at the wheel with orders to keep her before the wind. She pitched and yawed off course, and I rued the days I'd sinned. By god, whatever happens will be no fault of mine. I'll steer this ship to hell's gate, and not leave wheel before I'd drown.