The Pirates of Cervantes.
As the morning sun began to lighten the sky Isaiah once again sat silent and alone at the stern rail, now avoided by the rest of the crew who had grown resentful of his withdrawn and markedly unsociable manner. He stared out to sea searching for the first signs of a change in the weather, and as the ship drew close to Wedge Island away off to starboard the first purple-grey clouds began to take form and gather from out of the north. Slowly at first the horizon sky darkened and clouded over until within the hour white caps began to tug at the ocean surface as the wind began to gust and swirl as though tossing in restless fever. By the time the shanty town of Grey had slid behind their starboard quarter the going was heavier still, the first drops of rain hitting the wheelhouse windows and foredeck in large fat splashes sounding like so many buckets of stones being violently hurled against the ship. The raindrops quickly welded together to wetly sheen the entire surface in a matter of seconds. Soon to follow was the rising swell; quickly growing more weighty and restive as the now labouring vessel continued her northward course. When the Pinnacles Desert eventually came in sight through the worsening squalls, the whaling ship Cervantes was in a desperate struggle for survival. The running sea had become mountainous, the ship being tossed and swamped from stem to stern by the giant waves, utterly powerless against the immeasurable might of the oceans fury. And soon, she began to break apart.
At the onset of the first heavy swell Isaiah had ducked below to his cabin and began working furiously to pry loose the deck planking beside the forward bulkhead. The violent lurching of the ship made his task increasingly difficult, but he knew there was little time and that on no account must he fail. The doomed ship would be breaking up and going under at any moment, and he needed to break lose the planking and pry free whatever lay hidden beneath. Small unsecured items began to bounce and roll about the cabin deck as though being tossed by unseen mischievous hands, but Isaiah paid them no heed as he worked desperately at freeing up the stay, his now profusely sweating face a study in desperation. At last the plank gave way with a creaking snap and splintering of old wood, the jagged shards of which he promptly tossed aside, whereupon he immediately discovered the cunningly concealed compartment with something hidden in a mould encrusted sack. He knew instinctively what it was, and stared hard at the object as the ship took another huge crashing wave full on the beam and shuddered mightily. Seawater poured down the stairwell to thoroughly drench the cabin and swamp the frantic sailor, almost tearing the chest from his grasp, but at last he had the precious cargo free from its hiding place. At once he took off his thick leather belt and looping it through the lock latching along the side of the chest he strapped the thing across his shoulder and made for the upper deck, up to the darkly clouded sky and escape.
As he braced himself at the accommodation doorway leading onto the main deck the ship lurched and slid sideways into a deep valley in the raging sea, the weird light filtering down through the boiling storm clouds making the scene look like something from a nightmare. Occasional snatches of panicked shouts and cries from his shipmates raced by his ears to be borne away on the flying sea spume. He saw one man hanging tightly to the forward mast, there one second, and after another foaming avalanche of seawater washed the deck, he was gone. Looking up he saw a mass of storm clouds boiling overhead, swaying crazily across the sky over the tops of the mastheads. The howling wind whipped sea spray high into the air but this was hidden from sight as the ship hurtled down into the churning trough to suddenly lift head on upon another giant wave and breach the surface like a dying whale. The ship had taken on all the characteristics of a wild beast being forced into the slavering jaws of a voracious predator, and gone violently insane with panic to be bucking, yawing and slewing in dogged resistance, stubbornly fighting death to the last. She crashed into another rising wall of water abruptly arresting further forward movement and shuddering pitifully with the impact. Isaiah suddenly knew it was time to abandon the doomed ship, and as it plummeted back down into another dark yawning valley, he let go his grip on the doorframe. Sliding across the deck he soundlessly disappeared over the starboard side on a foaming wave, the treasure chest bound tightly over his left shoulder.