Haul on the Bowline

Haul on the Bowline

Haul on the Bowline before she starts a-rollin’

Haul on the Bowline the skipper is a-growlin’

Haul on the Bowline so early in the mornin’

Haul on the Bowline to Blackwall we are goin’

Haul on the Bowline Kitty is my darlin’

Haul on the Bowline Kitty comes from Liverpool

Haul on the Bowline it’s a far cry to payday

“Hoist the lines, lads!” Akir strongarmed the halyard of The Undaunted three steps forward in unison with the rest of the shipmates. He grinned, heart beating fast and adrenaline coursing through his limbs. The ocean was testy today. It rocked the ship back and forth as the sun slowly set, threatening to pitch the Dutch West India ship and her sailors into the quickly-darkening waters. Akir relished the rocking boat under his feet with a childlike glee.

Haul on the Bowline

Haul on the Bowline

Haul on the Bowline before she starts a-rollin’

With one last heave after hours of work, Akir paused until the end of the line was tied and released it with a sigh. “Well done!” Captain Seaver rested a hand on Akir’s shoulder. “I say we enjoy smooth waters as long as they last. Stars know it can be minutes before the ocean’s temper fires up again.” Akir watched as each sailor slowly nodded in agreement, shaking their heads to make sure their eyes remained open.

“We ought to get a drink before that, then.” Akir heard from the crowd of men.

“What an idea!” Captain Seaver nodded. He glanced at Akir with a wink. “Come drink with your captain your first season at sea.”

Akir grinned. “Or I drink with my uncle during my first season at sea.”

Captain Seaver’s smile widened. “Careful, the crew might hear you and think I let you on my ship for the wrong reasons.”

“I’d prove myself anyway.” Akir crossed his arms. “Do you have so little faith in me, uncle?”

“Never.” Captain Seaver paused, then his smile sobered. “But it is your first season at sea, boy, and there are things you should know. Things I have been meaning to tell you before we set out.”

“Like what?” They began following the crowd to the lower level of the ship.

“They are inexplicable.” Captain Seaver sighed. Akir could see the stars peeking ever so slightly out of the clouds before the sky disappeared and all that was left was the wooden walls below deck. “There are things at sea…”

Akir turned his gaze back to his uncle, whose expression had now taken on a rather far off look. “…men from ships around the world telling similar tales…” Captain Seaver continued, growing more absentminded as he dove deeper into his own thoughts.

“Of what?” Akir prodded, but Captain Seaver was now lost in his mind.

“Legends, boy.” First Mate Faulkner patted the seat next to him on a bench and handed Akir the bottle of rum. “Of what teases our eyes in the ocean… the songs that lure sailors off board.”

Goosebumps ran their way up Akir’s arms, but he only raised an eyebrow. “Now what could compel a perfectly well sailor to jump in the sea?”

“HA!” First Mate Faulkner slapped his knee. “I saw a man toss himself straight over starboard sayin’ he heard a song.”

“A song?”

“That’s right, and the other sailors said they heard it too – somethin’ ethereal or such. A lone voice in the sea.”

“Whalesong?”

First Mate Faulkner let out another hearty laugh. “Whalesong? Boy, the sailors heard a lone voice singing to them and they understood what it was saying. That’s why their man went overboard. They said it was singing for them to find it. Sounded like a woman’s voice.”

“Now who could possibly survive alone like that at sea?” Akir scratched his head.

First Mate Faulkner shrugged.

“I imagine something far more dangerous than what we know is out there.” 

***

Naia was thrashing back and forth as the enormous ship lumbered slowly and disruptively through her ocean. She frowned, throwing her tail forward against the waves to keep herself steady. This was one of the bad ships. The good ships were smaller, often holding men and women that offered gold to her in exchange for passage. The bad ships were enormous, sometimes with cannons and men in stiff uniform. Other times, they were loaded with what Naia deemed useless things, their crews shouting loudly to strongarm their ship through the current. She laughed. Did they not know that the only way through a treacherous sea was to follow the waves? No. That’s why it was so easy to lure the men from the bad ships into the water.

It looked like the ruckus on this ship had come to a pause. The men tied their lines and congratulated each other as they disappeared below deck. Only a few stayed visible, drinking rum out of bottles too large for their own hands and chatting merrily. Some began quietly singing songs, their voices deep and brassy. It hurt Naia’s ears.

At this time of night, the ship would begin to quiet down– and the men would inevitably be listening to every sound that graced the waters of the sea. That is when Naia would sing. She would tell the men on the bad ships about the gold thrown into the sea by the good ships and the fish that glowed as they danced around her tail. She would tell them about the jewels that her people so carefully kept at the bottom of the ocean, inviting the men to see them. She would promise them protection in the water. The men would listen, and quietly step overboard, trying to make their way to her. There were times when entire ships would slowly follow the first few in the night, leaving the useless things on board and the ship itself to float on its own. Naia left the ships themselves. They were of no interest to her.

Ships did not cause disturbances without men on them. It was the oafish men on board that caused the rhythmic swells of the ocean to turn into thrashing, unforgiving waves. They dumped buckets of sludge into the water and turned it a foul color. Her nose crinkled in disgust. Some of the bad ships would take down whales one by one, stopping the magnificent creatures’ song abruptly to replace it with screams that only Naia could hear. The scales along her spine shook painfully as she thought of the sound. The more ships she left drifting, the more hesitant each crew of men was to take another to sea. Although some days, Naia felt as though they would just keep coming.

For as long as they kept coming, she would keep singing.

*** 

“So what tales do these men tell each other of the creatures dangerous enough to survive the ocean alone?” Akir now stood at the bow of the ship with First Mate Faulkner who serenely smoked his pipe. The cool ocean air felt refreshing after a healthy amount of rum. Akir’s skin was pleasantly flushed but he felt more awake than ever.

First Mate Faulkner nodded slowly, taking his cap off and holding it to his chest as though he was greeting a lady. “In these parts between the Atlantic and Caribbean Seas, there’s a nymph…” He began. Akir leaned forward, eyes and ears entirely focused on First Mate Faulkner’s story. “…I told you about the men that walked overboard? The ones who survived the song claim to have seen a nymph in the ocean so beautiful they had to hide their eyes.”

“So the nymph was the one singing the song?”

First Mate Faulkner nodded. “They say it starts off beautiful and curious. But if you listen long enough, it becomes haunting and mysterious. It holds an allure that brings men to their downfall. Some have said it is so permeating that as hard as they try to cover their ears, they can still hear the nymph’s song from miles away at sea.”

“Do the locals know anything about it?”

First Mate Faulkner chuckled. “If they did, do you think they would tell us?”

Akir drew back slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Perhaps you will understand soon.” First Mate Faulkner took another drag of his pipe. “I assume the men must have heard the story from locals, but it has circulated so many ships that at this point I have a difficult time believing it is not true. Some say the nymph was a lost lady claimed by the sea, but many say that she is the protector of the water, and by extension, the native peoples of the island.”

“Does anyone know what she looks like?”

“Ah, that is where the story becomes interesting, my boy. The sailors say she has the tail of a fish and the body of a local. Her skin is so dark that she blends into the depths of the ocean, only visible when she exits the water.”

“So none of the men that survived the nymph’s song have really seen her?” Akir raised an eyebrow. “And yet you believe she is real?”

“Aye.” First Mate Faulkner insisted. “I come to deck at dawn sometimes and in the distance I can see her, golden comb through her hair, sitting on a boulder and watching us go by.” 

***

The sun had disappeared along the edge of the sea now, and Naia could swim close enough to it to see its name on the side. The Undaunted. Somehow, she found that name ironic. The Undaunted lumbered through the ocean leaving filth in its wake and distressing the locals on the surrounding islands, but the men on the ship remained, well, undaunted. Perhaps it was easy for them to say.

The crew had taken to creating more noise on the ship. Naia allowed the ocean’s waves to carry her away from the side of the ship, aiming for a small cove ahead. She would wait until the crew was asleep before she sang ,or they would attempt to hunt her like a fish. She needed them to carefully listen to her song. She dipped her head under the waves. In the water, she could see very little, but could hear everything. From the bubbling of the fish to the resounding whale calls that passed through the ocean. Now, they were all drowned out by the cumbersome splashes of The Undaunted. Naia picked her head back up out of the water. She was now swimming a distance from the bow of the ship. There were two figures standing thoughtfully at the helm, seemingly lost in the sight of the expanse of water that they were destroying without a second thought.

A fog began to settle over the water, descending too slowly for the sailors themselves to notice, but thick enough for Naia to feel it weigh down on her face. She turned her head back towards the shore on her left. While the land itself was miles away, she could still hear everything that happened by the water if she listened closely. Many days, she chose to only hear the songs underwater, because those sung by the shore made her heart flip as though she was swimming out of deep waters. When she had been younger, the songs on shore had brought her joy. They had sung of the beauty and ferocity of the clear blue waters that ships like The Undaunted now sullied with their wastage. They had sung of joyful celebration and of warriors that fought to protect the beauty of where they had been raised. Now, the songs were heavy, burdened. Often, Naia could not understand them, but when she did, they sang meekly of survival and betrayal. There were times when the songs were entirely replaced with indecipherable screams and the clanking of metal on ships even bigger than The Undaunted.

*** 

If Akir squinted, he could see the faint glimmer of stars behind the fog that now rested on the surface of the ocean. First Mate Faulkner had retired once the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving Akir alone on the bow of the ship. Watch for the nymph, boy he had advised, her song is deadly. The thought tugged at the corner of Akir’s mouth as he continued to look ahead into the blackness.

Most of the crew had gone below deck with Fist Mate Faulkner, but some had fallen asleep on deck, out of Akir’s sight. The ocean was silent save for the sound of The Undaunted coursing through the waves. The silence kept Akir at peace. His mind was empty except for First Mate Faulkner’s image of the nymph. In the pitch dark that enveloped the ocean, it was not difficult to picture a lone figure in one of the many coves at the edge of the water, watching the ship pass by demurely.

Could a maiden’s song be so dangerous? Akir placed his head and hands on the rim of the ship and turned his head to face the cove that The Undaunted was slowly passing.

At first, he could have sworn he was hearing the wind. The note started as a slow whistle, blending into the salty breeze, and slowly increased in volume until Akir found himself listening to a careful melody. He could not understand the words, but it swam through the dark air and wrapped around his chest. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to let the gentle tone hold him. Who was singing so lonely and late into the night? Then, he thought he recognized a bit of the tune.

Haul on the Bowline

It’s a far cry to freedom

Those were not the words. Akir opened his eyes with a jolt. What had First Mate Faulkner said? Beware of the nymph.  The song, beautiful and curious at first, that turned into a haunting theme. He could not stop hearing the song that had wrapped around his chest comfortingly at first. Now, its grip became uncomfortably tight. Akir breathed in heavily and released the air from his lungs slowly, as though he was underwater.

Haul on the Bowline

The ocean is a-callin’

The tune turned eerie. An ever-so-slight note change sent goosebumps scuttling up Akir’s spine. His body jolted upward as he recalled more of First Mate Faulkner’s story. There were still men on the deck who were likely more drawn to the nymph’s song than he.

“No man left behind.” He muttered. Akir ran backwards from the bow of the ship to peer at the men that had been sitting and sleeping on deck. They all looked to be staring at the sky or aimlessly into the fog, entranced by the melody that slowly became more haunting as it continued. There were only nine or ten men on the deck, but Akir could see one or two beginning to get up and lean over the edge of the boat, craning their necks to hear more of the nymph’s song. Their eyes were squinted in concentration as though the nymph’s voice was slowly fading. To Akir, it only sounded louder.

One man leaned dangerously over the side of the ship, his torso slung towards the water and his toes beginning to dangle.

“No!” Akir sprinted to the man, pulling back with all his might. The man’s gaze was unwavering, but he fell limply to the deck, sitting with his hands behind him and legs splayed out as though he could not remember how he got there.

Akir’s head whipped back and forth, the gears turning in his mind to concoct a way that he could save the handful of crew members from throwing themselves overboard.

“Running this ship will be a million times more difficult without you lugs to pull the halyard.” He grumbled as he grabbed the arm of each man and placed them in a circle next to the man he

had just deposited onto the wooden floor of the ship’s deck. He walked around them, making sure each entranced face was focused to the sky instead of wandering to the sides of the ship. Arms crossed, he stared at the wood of the ship in attempts to ground himself. He would not listen to the nymph’s song. 

*** 

Naia twirled her hair in her fingers, eyes closed and safely perched on a boulder in the cove that The Undaunted slowly passed by. She began her song as she typically did, with the pleasantries and allure of welcoming a visitor into her home, inviting the ship’s crew to explore the depths of the sea, convincing them that the water was safe. The water was their home.

Haul on the Bowline

The crew had sung during the day, and Naia sang it in return, enticing the men closer with each word. She could hear the ragged breathing of the men on deck as they suddenly forgot where they were and what they had been doing, dropping their bottles of rum and pints of ale to hear her greeting. But as she listened closer, she could not hear the familiar splashes of men diving into the ocean, or the singular cry of, “Man Overboard!” as more crew ran on deck to try and save their shipmates, only to meet the same fate. In the middle of her song, Naia quieted ever-so-slightly. Still, no screams muffled by the sound of waves or plops of crew frantically attempting to swim to shore before getting caught in her melody again as their heads broke water. Abruptly stopping her song, she leaned forward to glimpse the crew on the ship. The fog only became thicker, and with the darkness that had settled, Naia could no longer even see figures on the ship. She slipped back into the water without a splash, letting the high tide carry her back into deeper waters.

Underwater, she could clearly see the bottom of the ship, cutting through the waves slightly less effectively now that the moon was pulling them with more fervor, but still disrupting what would otherwise be the rhythmic movement of the ocean. Naia dove below the ship, taking care to not approach too closely. If she started singing here, the crew might spot her.

Naia let the current carry her upward until the top of her head and her eyes broke the surface of the water. Her tail beat against the tide and held her in place a few hundred yards from the ship’s deck. From here, she could see the figures of eleven men on the ship. Her face contorted at the sight. Ten men were sat in a circle with the eleventh circling them like a hunting shark, arms either crossed or held behind his back. He stared intently at the wood of the ship, while the others were fixated on the foggy sky, aching to hear more of Naia’s song.

She raised her head higher over the waves so her chin poked out and sang once more. The sitting crew members, whose trancelike state had lost its aimlessness, suddenly began to flail urgently, trying to get up in the direction of her voice. The one standing sailor who had been circling the others looked upward. So he hadheard her song. Unlike the others, however, he shook his head and turned his attention back to his crewmates, grabbing each of their arms and throwing them back into the circle he had made them sit inside as they wriggled to get out. That was why Naia had not heard the splashes of men jumping from The Undaunted. A number

of crewmates on ships like this thought themselves heroes. They thought themselves above those that their ships treaded over, above the endless and powerful force of the sea. Naia rose further out of the water so her shoulders were exposed to the foggy ocean air and let her previous melody carry in the wind. The ten sailors on deck began to flail even more, each one making a desperate effort to crawl towards the side of the ship. 

*** 

Akir jogged around the ten crewmembers frantically as the nymph’s song became louder. As the higher parts of the melody rose in volume, his ears registered a shrill screech, and he winced. After a moment, it would settle back into an unnatural melody but instead of the soft, haunting song he first heard, it was now obnoxiously loud. He craned his neck from where he stood, barring the crewmembers from the edge of the ship, attempting to find where the song was coming from. With the increase in volume, whatever was singing in the ocean had to be nearby.

The melody stopped once again, providing Akir with some peace as his flailing crew mates settled down in the circle he had been struggling to keep them in. Not having to hold the men, Akir peered further over the side of the ship. The fog made everything in the water look nearly the same, the blackness of the sky reflected in the crashing tide. He kept staring for a moment before something caught his eye. A flicker. Shining scales that shone in the water. The fog was too thick now for the stars to reflect in the ocean, so Akir squinted. Something flashed again, moving back and forth in the water. A fish? But this fish would have been large if he could see it from the ship without light. As far as he knew, sharks did not flash in the water like that. The haunting melody started up again on a low note. This time, it was the loudest Akir had heard it. He leaned forward even further and spotted a head and shoulders poking out of the water.

“Hey!” He grasped the edge of the ship with both hands. The nymph’s song stopped again abruptly. She looked up at him from the water.

The way First Mate Faulkner had spoken about the nymph, Akir had expected to see a beautiful woman. But he was not prepared for the sight of this nymph. Her eyes were the deep blue color he had always imagined the ocean to be on a perfect day. Her skin was so dark she did in fact almost blend into the darkness of the water, but somehow shone with a silvery glow. She bared her teeth, and they were sharp, unlike any human’s Akir had seen. When the nymph peered up at Akir, he could have sworn that her eyes were larger than the moon itself. Her hair was braided just as the locals’ hair was braided and it floated in long locks that held shells, beads, and other shiny things that Akir could not identify from this far away.

The nymph looked taken aback at the sight of him, as though she did not expect to be so close to The Undaunted. When she caught sight of him, however, her confusion changed into fury.

“Are you here to take our crew?” He called over the side of the ship, checking back over his shoulder to make sure all ten men were still on board. They were. With the nymph not singing, they had settled into their previous, mildly dazed positions. Akir glanced back at the

water. No response. “Hello?” He spotted the large eyes once more. The nymph’s body was submerged, with only her forehead, eyes, and hair visible. Every so often, Akir caught the flick of her tail that seemed to be holding her steady against the strong movement of the tide. “Please tell me why you have come for us.” Akir changed his tone from a demanding one to a pleading one. The nymph rose out of the water so her face was entirely visible.

“Why have you come to my ocean?” She called. “No man has come to this part of the ocean and survived my song.” She sounded angry, defiant. As the nymph spoke, the ocean waves began to rock The Undaunted even more than before. The motion dipped Akir slightly closer to the water before pulling him away once more.

“We’re just merchant sailors, miss.” Akir all but implored. “We are not pirates who steal from Navy ships or plunder for treasure.”

“Who says you do not plunder for treasure?” The nymph cocked her head. “You have spent decades ravaging my beaches for their riches, leaving filth in my sea and bringing pain to the people who bring life to my shores.”

“I swear to you–“

“DO NOT SWEAR,” The nymph rose further out of the water and the violent waves became even more intense as her once melodious and hypnotic voice now filled the silence in an echoing boom. “Do not invoke oath to tell me lies, sailor.”

Akir felt as though he was too close to the moon. As she rose magnificently out of the water, he almost had to look away from how brightly her skin lit the foggy night. He imagined her eyes could, at times, be demure, but now they were filled with fire. Akir had to shake himself to gain his bearings. He gripped the side of the boat to keep himself steady as the ocean waves took tighter hold of The Undaunted and rocked it even more violently. 

*** 

Naia stared at the sailor who seemed impervious to her song. If he had not been a human, perhaps she would have wanted to learn more about what was behind the bright eyes and gifted her golden comb to the long, dark hair that now whipped in the ocean air.

“I do not know of the crimes you speak.” He insisted.

“And yet you fuel them. You dump your own waste into my waters regardless and kill the serenity of my ocean with your heaving ship.” Naia swished her tail under the water, churning it even more violently than the waves that slowly grew in high tide.

“You must understand, you cannot knock us from the ship.” The sailor’s knuckles were white from the force with which he gripped the ship to keep himself steady. “We have homes to return to, families to feed.”

“So did the people on my shores. So does the life that graces the sea. Did you think of their family when you docked your first ship?”

The sailor’s dark hair was thoroughly tousled by the wind now, his eyes wide and frantic. He glanced back again at his crew members, who still sat on the deck of the ship, rather useless and almost catatonic. In a moment of pause, Naia almost laughed at the sailor’s figure. He was larger than most humans, but only strong from the force of hauling the lines that kept the ship

afloat. His arms were not designed to bear the weight of water the way Naia’s were. He only had the force to keep ships afloat. Naia sank them.

“Let your ship be a warning,” Naia called. “So that others with homes to return to and families to feed do not make the same mistakes.”

“They will never stop.” The sailor shook his head. “We do not deserve to pay for the crimes of others.”

“They are your crimes now too! After what you have done to these waters! After you have sailed through my ocean to deliver the weapons that threaten to end the life on my shores!”

“Haul on the Bowline, lads!” The sailor called. “We must keep this ship steady!”

Upon hearing the song, the crew members seemed to perk up slightly, but were still dazed. The sailor called once more.

“It is no use,” Naia let herself drift a few feet away from the boat as its edge threatened to touch the top of the ocean’s waves. Watching the sailor scramble for survival pulled strangely at Naia’s chest. She found herself gazing upon him the way she might have gazed at locals on a drowning ship. Unlike his crew members, the sailor was not granted the peaceful trance that hid the truth of his descent into the water. He was forced to face his death just as he faced Naia now – glaring at its face.

“No!” The sailor grabbed one of the lines, attempting to haul it himself. “Even if I have to sail through hell and forever, this ship will stay afloat.”

The sailor pulled at the halyard with all his might, partially steadying the ship, but still failed to keep it upright in the waves that plagued it. His eyes were filled with the impending doom of his sinking ship and for a second, Naia considered letting him sail back to the home he so fervently mentioned to ponder his own mistake. Perhaps he would never make it again.

She shook her head vigorously. The ships would only keep coming. If she released him now, what would he do when he returned to his home? Sail once more? Return to her waters? No. One less sailor meant less danger in her ocean.

The tug continued in her chest, however, sending a wave of sadness through her as the sailor fought for his life and that of his crewmembers. She sank back into the waves.

“Careful what you wish for. There are more ways to send a warning than destroying your ship.”

“What more could you possibly do?” He challenged. The corner of Naia’s mouth curled upward.

“You want to be a sailor? Fine. Brave the seas forever. I permit you to sail my waters, but the minute you step on land I curse your sins to catch up with you and your body to wither with your deeds. I curse only love to cure you, but you will never be able to set foot on land to find it.”

The sailor stopped hauling to give Naia a look of utter hatred. The fear had left his eyes upon hearing his life was to be spared.

 “How dare you curse me to an eternity of this for a sin that is not mine.” He spat.

“How dare you deny the sins you are part of by fighting for your ship. Perhaps if you could admit the truth, I might have spared you. Consider this a kind alternative.”

Haul on the Bowline

Even centuries later, the locals would tell tales of the singing man on The Undaunted, doomed to sail the ocean and harmonize with the nymph’s song until his curse was broken.