Date: Sat, 6 Mar 2004 16:43:06 EST
From: Brit18uk@aol.com
Subject: The Castaways; Chapter 8

This story is posted for the exclusive enjoyment of readers on the
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otherwise distributed without express permission from the author.

The contents of this story are fictional. Any resemblance of the characters
to any other persons is strictly coincidental. Certain characters engage in
sexual acts, which may or may not be legal in the state or country in which
you the reader may reside. Any reader with objections to graphic
descriptions of sexual encounters between males who may not have reached
the legal age of consent, or whose local, regional, state or national
jurisprudence prohibits such descriptions, should not read
further. rick19uk@ntlworld.com

The Castaways.

Chapter 8. Copyright by rick19uk.... 5th March 2004

The following day we discussed the fact that we ought to heave to at night
but still keep our vigilance at the level we had maintained so far. Our
fear was that we were drawing near to the coordinates we estimated the
island to be, and the last thing we wanted was to pass in the night and
miss it altogether. We knew they burnt fires all night long but what if we
passed the uninhabited side and saw no fire. Another worry, which Brian had
brought up, was the possibility of any naval vessels visiting the island
particularly as it seemed it was known to be an island inhabited by
friendly people. He pointed out that on the voyage before we joined the
ship he had been in Kingston Town and had a very narrow escape from the
press gangs who were roaming the streets sweeping the taverns of men and
boys alike. All we would need he went on to say, would be find safe
sanctuary on the friendly island and then be picked up by a patrolling
frigate and then pressed into service. Once pressed, it was nigh on
impossible to get out of the service and if you escaped and were
subsequently captured, they hung you off the yardarm. We all agreed it was
a most horrible way to die.

      We had been at sea for nine days and in truth we were all getting
fidgety with the confinement in the canoe. We yearned to set foot on land
and just be able to run around, such were our pent up energy levels. We had
plenty to eat and drink, and had to date, not even consumed half of what we
had loaded. I for one was very proud of our planning and subsequent
progress so far. A thing we all found to be excruciatingly embarrassing was
hanging our arses over the side to shit. Pissing wasn't a problem as we
had all sucked each other's dicks and running around naked as we did, we
almost always just stopped in our tracks and pissed where we stood
anyway. Shitting however was usually done behind a canvas screen that we
moved every week as the trench we had dug filled up. All three of us agreed
we would never get used to it. The only respite from our boredom was in
fact continuing sucking each others dicks and I am sure we managed it most
days at least three times. My favourite time was if I awoke first, I would
see who was closest and just clamp on like a limpet to his already rock
hard cock. It was the most delicious nectar I could imagine as my first
drink of the day. It soon caught on and I found myself awakened this way
several times. Why it had never occurred to me to do this in our cave each
morning was quite beyond me.

      On our tenth day we awoke to another high sea and large ominous
clouds on the distant horizon. Fortunately they seemed to get further away
as the day progressed and it wasn't too long before the black storm clouds
were gone altogether and the sky was the same grey, horizon to horizon,
that had been overhead us all day. We were on reduced sail riding the
sometimes quite large waves when David, who was scanning the horizon with a
glass, called our attention to distant rays of sun and a white speck
glinting in the far distance. His immediate cry was, "Sail ho" and as we
turned to him he was pointing in a very animated manner towards it. We all
took turns with the glass and as we crested wave after wave we all saw it
and agreed it was indeed a sail. We were jubilant at this apparently Heaven
sent turn of events and began to try and think of ways of attracting their
attention to us. The mirror I had packed from the beacon site came to mind
and I quickly sought it out, the problem however was that we were still
overcast by heavy grey cloud and had no sun with which to cause a
reflection. After an hour or so I was able to note the ships approximate
heading onto our chart and took further sightings every hour thereafter
until it finally slipped from our view over the horizon, such was its
distance from us. I admit to tears at this turn of events and we all moved
to the centre of the canoe crying and hugging each other as if our very
lives depended on it. As evening drew in we were very despondent and
depressed and the net result was a very poor nights rest. The only
consolation we could draw was the fact that ships did indeed frequent these
waters and that if our calculations were at all correct we could expect to
sight our friendly island within the next three to four days.

      The following morning we did sight land and immediately set course
for it. It was a beautiful sight and we ogled the lush green hill that
arose from the sea praying that it was our friendly island that we had at
last reached. After several hours we began to approach the coral ring that
encircled it. We set to searching for a breach through which we could enter
and finally after twelve days of confinement, set foot on dry land. I would
guess it took us a further hour before we found a breach that we could fit
through and we eagerly pointed our prow at the pristine white beach that
lay before us. A cry of absolute joy erupted from all three of us as the
bow of the canoe gently crunched up onto the beach and we leapt
ashore. Brian as ever was the one that insisted we tend to tying off our
sturdy little ship thus ensuring it didn't drift away leaving us marooned
once more. Once we had done with tying up the weird feeling of being
unsteady came to all of us and we watched each other in total fascination
as we each rocked and swayed on our feet. David was the one to offer an
explanation when he said that he had been in a north sea storm for five
days before they had been able to put into a safe haven, and on stepping
ashore all had had the same trouble with the boson saying it was a quite
normal occurrence but was quite harmless. He assured us that within a few
hours we would all feel normal again and not to give it another thought. He
was in fact absolutely correct and we were soon running ourselves
breathless in our new found freedom.

      It was by this time, coming onto late afternoon and we found
ourselves in amongst the trees searching out fruit to eat as we walked
along. David broached the subject of a fire not being a good idea until we
had carried out a recce of the island and made sure that any inhabitants
weren't cannibals or in any way warlike. Brian and I heartily agreed and
heaped praise on him for his intelligent forethought and as we made our way
back to our canoe, we decided that a careful survey of the island would be
extremely advisable. As the night drew in we cuddled into our blankets in a
hollow we scooped from the sand and slept like logs until first light the
next day.

      We had a hasty breakfast being unable to contain our excitement over
our imminent search of our new island and armed with a musket and two
pangas we set off. As we began to climb the densely vegetated hillside we
tried to be as quiet as we could with the hacking and after about three
hours of stop go progress we crested the hill, flopped down and rested. As
we took our food from our knapsack, David had strolled over amongst some
trees on the far side of the hilltop. We heard his panic stricken cry and a
crashing as if someone was tumbling through branches and such. We leapt to
our feet and raced over towards where we had last seen him and heard voices
from below us. We fell flat to our bellies and shimmied forwards to the
apparent edge of the hilltop and on peering over the edge looked down and
saw David just as he was picking himself up looking to all intents and
purposes, unhurt. He was staring at three unruly looking ruffians just as
one of them stooped and grabbed him. As he got hold of him we heard him
shout to his fellow ruffians, "look what we've got here then. A fine little
chicken just ripe for the plucking, come with me you!". They marched him
off and we heard them asking him where his friends were. Quick as a flash
he replied, "I am alone and have been this past two years. I was
shipwrecked and was washed onto the shores of this island where I have
remained since". They became indistinct from then on and as we stood and
peered out we saw the masts of a ship showing above the tops of the
trees. These very masts we decided, were the ones that bore the very sail
we had sighted but yesterday. The ominous part of this was the black flag
atop the centre mast, which had the infamous skull and crossbones,
emblazoned on it. We thanked God we had not obeyed our first instinct to
cry out after them.

      Brian and I looked to each other in absolute horror. Our own dear
sweet love was captured by God knows what sort of cutthroat band of
pirates. We quietly withdrew and I have to admit once more to breaking down
in hacking great sobs of compassion for our love and the fear of what they
may do to him. Brian grasped me into a tight hug and after laying kisses on
my neck whispered, "fear not Jeffrey, we will scout around and by hook or
crook, we will rescue him". I slowly began to calm down and after some long
minutes we set off along the hilltop making sure we were not visible from
prying eyes below. As we slowly and silently crept along we came upon a
steep downward slope and made a very cautious approach and subsequent
descent. Our hearts were in our mouths and we dripped with the sweat of
fear and anxiety as we came to flatter ground and flitted from tree to
tree. We slowly made our way in the direction we had spotted the masts and
some two hours after David's capture and painstakingly slow progress, the
trees and bushes noticeably began to thin out. We sank to our knees and
crouched out of sight behind thick bushes. As we carefully and fearfully
peered out we realised we could now see the beach and some distance away
saw gathered there some twenty or thirty very fearsome looking
pirates. Most were sprawled drunk around a fire with pigs roasting on
spits. There were kegs strewn around as if they were or had been collecting
fresh water. There were also two or three smaller kegs which we well knew
would contain rum, these were indeed the brothers of the kegs we had drawn
the fiery spirit from whilst about our duties aboard our own now wrecked
ship.

      By this time it was about late afternoon and we watched them tear
into the roasted meat like a pack of dogs, all the while guzzling down tin
mugs of rum. The leader, who was bedecked in soiled finery, had his arm
around David's shoulder and was it appeared, so drunk he was using him to
hold himself up. They had bound David's hands and he was having great
difficulty remaining upright himself as the leader staggered and stumbled
about dragging him with him. Over half the dogs were now laid dead drunk
and comatose all around the dying cooking fire. Brian whispered to me that
it seemed to be a relatively simple matter to wait till they were all out
for the count then try to sneak in and grab David. As we lay concealed
behind our bush, one of the few pirates still standing came staggering over
to our bush and we truly feared we had been discovered. He was a great
swarthy beast of a man carrying a great scar from his left eye diagonally
down his face to the right side of his chin. His ears were hung with great
hoops of gold that clanked together as he made his unsteady way towards
us. All he did however was undo the front of his pants, fish out his huge
cock and pissed into the bush, splashing us as he did so with the stinking
and offensive result of his alcoholic binge. It was miraculous that he
didn't see us and we were both heaving from the piss and fear, and trying
to be silent as he staggered away.

      The afternoon wore on into evening and we watched as they dropped
like flies into their rum induced stupor. The leader had for a long time
been sat pawing at David, all the while swigging back the mugs of rum
whilst we wondered at his capacity to continue. At last we saw him keel
over laying part way across a now prostrate David. As we continued to
observe, we realised the fear that must live in his heart with this beast
laid upon him. We allowed another hour to pass by making sure that none
stirred. At last we agreed it was as safe to approach as it would ever be
so we silently crept over and into the lions den. All were snoring and as
we got to David he fearfully looked up at us and saw us both with our
fingers over our lips silently begging him to be quiet. He quickly realised
it was us, and the import of our silent message to him. Brian, who as I
keep saying was forever the decisive one amongst us, quickly sized up the
situation and taking the pistol from his belt, reversed it and using it as
a club gave the leader a couple of hard clout's about the head which
hopefully ensured his complete insensibility. As soon as he did this I was
at David's bonds with my knife severing them and thus setting him
free. Brian and I rolled the now totally unconscious leader off him and he
quickly got to his feet. At a nod from Brian and with his fingers over his
lips once more we silently crept away. Our problem now was to find the way
back to our own section of beach in virtual pitch darkness. We had barely
covered one hundred yards when a thought occurred to me that would ensure
our safety from these cutthroats.

      We huddled down and whispered over my idea and doing a turnabout
crept back towards the drunken pirates. Giving them as wide a berth as we
could, we approached their longboat and as quietly as possible, pushed it
back into the sea and clambered aboard. We had carefully observed the ship
whilst we laid in wait earlier in the afternoon and had seen not one soul
aboard her. They had all come ashore it seemed for the roast pig and rum
after filling their barrels from the fresh water source we had not yet
seen. As we stealthily rowed out to their ship we kept a wary ear for any
sound from the quickly receding beach. We gently thumped alongside and
scrambled up the ropes hanging off the rails having made sure we were tied
off securely. We had decided to look for powder and ball and once we found
it quickly stowed two small kegs along with bags of shot aboard the
longboat. We returned aboard and going to the now discovered magazine set a
long slow fuse into a gunpowder barrel and lit it. Leaping into the
longboat we rowed like mad men and made our escape heading around the
island to our own sturdy little ship. As we rowed we awaited with baited
breath (if that were possible) for the eventual explosion that would signal
the destruction of the pirate ship and the marooning of the cutthroats.
About an hour after setting off we first saw the enormous flash reaching
into the night sky and then heard and felt the rolling and reverberating
explosion of the magazine exploding. Within about another one and a half
hours, now in moonlight, we came across our own little vessel. It was short
work to untie her fastening the longboat to her as well. We then paddled
out to the break in the coral reef and into the open sea whereupon we
raised our sail making good our escape leaving the pirates nothing with
which to pursue us with. We reverently joined our hands, and with bowed
heads, prayed to Our Lord giving Him sincere thanks for our escape and
asking Him for our eventual salvation.