The
Semper Fidele, named in some heathen language or so I imagine, is no
match for my ancestor's ship of course, but it is a remarkable craft
I am sure. The wood panels of its deck are worn but I have no doubt
this is a result of many successful missions and adventures on the
part of its worthy crew. That crew though, canines, mermen, and ugh,
humans could not possibly live up to the standards of their
grand captain Contessa Gatti.
That
woman, that beautiful jaguar Venus, surely must be the greatest
captain to ever sail the Grand Line. The mere sight of her commanding
her crew with such aplomb and obvious competency sets my mind alight
with the prospects for our adventure. It is the very nature of her
stance, her body language, her . . . Well, the first sight of her on
that ship lets one know from the start that she is in charge of her
crew and her enterprise. She is in charge it seems of whatever she so
wishes, even I am beginning to fear, my heart. That is not to be
thought of today though.
* * *
We
have been sailing for a fortnight now and I fear we are lost. No
matter my long training on the sailboats of my father, it has been
unfortunate to find myself seasick more nights than most. The captain
has politely ignored this fact but the crew are often found to be
snickering behind my back. I have mentioned this to Contessa but she
says there is little she can do. I begin to think less and less of
this ruffian crew.
The
Grand Line is more foreboding and exacting than I had at first
thought and I must admit that I am a bit afraid, not just of the
being lost but of surviving our strange endeavor. Luckily, I must
only look to the Captain for reassurance that our quest is worthy,
though expensive. Twice Contessa has requested an increase in the
ship's funds, though we are still at sea. I find it puzzling but I
have the utmost faith in her ability.
* * *
Last
evening I was awoken by a terrible dream. This twenty third day of
our voyage, still outside of land, was stressful enough without the
dream but the night was broken by it all the same. In the dream I was
nude and alone on a barren landscape and being chased by a foul and
demonic creature. Running, ever running from it I thought my escape
assured but at the last I was swept under its claws and run down. The
beast, strangely, had a face like that of Contessa—that of a
jaguar.
In
awaking I found my subconscious prickled with the idea that in
ancient times, before our intellects were developed to the point that
they are today, our species were enemies and the wild jaguar the
chief predator of those Giant African Ant Eaters from which I hail.
This idea troubles me greatly but I cannot help but keep my faith in
Contessa. She is like a light in this sorrowful storm that is our
voyage so far and I will let it guide me as a lighthouse guides a
ship past the rocks of a breaker.
* * *
Success!
Today we saw land at last and everyone on board, even the lowly
humans occupied with god knows what mindless tasks one might give
them breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, no one actually doubted
the Captain's skills or the accuracy of her log-posts but still, the
wait on the open water was long.
Embarking
on the land I was once again embarrassed to find myself seasick,
though I suppose it would be more accurate to call it “land sick.”
At any rate, after the longshoremen had their laughs, I was put in
touch with a strange little man to arrange for provisions. This trip
becomes more and more expensive day by day. So far, the great saved
treasures of my line lay barely tapped but I wonder that a day might
come when I must begin to monitor them. That will be a strange day
indeed.
After
meeting with the little man, a certain Frenchmen named Sebastian
Cargot, I returned to the trip to oversee the loading of our
provisions. The most puzzling sight met my eyes though as the ship
was loaded and that was the fact that while great crates of supplies
were lowered into the hold other crates were removed. Large and with
strange lettering on them, they were removed and put into the
possession of a dubious character who I am not quite trusting of but
the most marvelous part of the ordeal was that the crates were
loaded, one after the other, by a great bear easily nine feet tall.
Wearing a small and strange had which wore a red star he tossed the
crates about and threatened our ship's crew.
His
accent was strange and his behavior stranger. It appears that the
crates removed from the Semper Fedele contained some sort of grain
alcohol and it was quite the sight to see that great and monstrous
bear pull what must have been a twenty gallon drum from a crate and
pour it down his throat at a gulp with a belch of what I swear was
fire.
At
any rate, I confronted Contessa, ever lovely in her navy blue
captain's suit, and asked of the cargo. She swears to me that the
cargo was merely a formality that was already aboard when she was
commissioned by the du Bois, and that it would be folly to come by
here and not deliver them. Of course I apologized for questioning her
judgment.
* * *
Finally,
the ship loaded and provisioned, it was good to get under way today
and away from this foul port, even if it means going back onto the
rough waters which have such negative effects on my temperament. The
docks of that island, passing silently away from us, were ugly and
strange but no less ugly and strange than the sights which we will
see soon.
Looking
over the map today with Contessa I was instilled with a great font of
enthusiasm for our endeavor which was greatly appreciated. I must
admit I had become a little forlorn after the dockside episodes and
the already long journey, but to see the sights and markings laid out
on the map made me much assuaged.
There
was a strangeness though when I looked at the map and realized that
some of the ink there appeared to still be damp. Putting my fore claw
down on the large X which marked our next stop I was surprised to see
it come away from the map with a dab of red ink there on the tip.
I
attempted to question the Captain but when she noticed my puzzled
gaze she did something which certainly left me in a strange state. I
must admit I have never felt quite the flutter of butterflies in my
stomach that she caused when she touched my chin, the soft fur of her
paws sublime against the coarseness of my own hair. She whispered to
me not worry and I admit there was a stirring in me that I have never
felt at any but my own species.
Being
a bachelor I cannot feel guilt at these facts but I am still adrift
in my personal emotions. The look of her eyes as she batted those
beautiful lashes at me took my breath away and as she wrapped her
other arm around me and led me to the window, the soft and warm
embrace pushing her bosom against me for an excruciatingly short
moment was enough to sweep me away.
Pulling
me to the window she pointed out into the sunset and the glittering
water beneath it and asked me to imagine the greatness of the
discoveries which lay before us. That of the Gants.
I
cannot wait.
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