Chapter Text
September 17, 1880
Dearest Diary,
For the longest while I’ve searched for a place to call my home. A year or so ago I found such a place, but she was not meant to harbour such souls as mine. I wandered further than my usual route of revelry and stumbled across the docks. I had my first whiff of sea spray and sand. I fell in complete love with the mighty beast. Alas, my luck was not so great as no respectable merchant would take me aboard as crew. I was a girl after all, too weak to lift the cargo and too stupid to do the maths for charting. Not only was my sex an issue, but my upbringing. They all were familiar with the sharp face that had smiled right before their purses went missing. No merchant familiar to these docks would let me within a few metres of their precious ships. Too many temptations within their lacquered hulls.
I was fortunate enough to find an apprenticeship with a map maker. Apologies, cartographer . An aloof old man searching for someone to spread his work and learn the ways of the trade. In a way, carry on his legacy. He had never married so he had no children to teach, a maggot like myself would have to do. Eager to learn and nimble fingered I was quickly set to rights learning how to read. After reading I learned to write, and then to draw, and finally to illustrate and bring the works to life. I spent about six months with the old man, never learning his name, only what he signed his works with. Olivier Regaldi . That was not his name, for I used it once and he laughed and shook his head. He told me it was a pen name of sorts. Another face to hide behind. I asked what to call him and he said I should just call him grandfather, since he had taken me in as his own but was much too old to be my father.
I made my first shilling honestly by making maps with Grandfather. He taught me everything I would need to know to be as great as he, if not better. He said I excelled quickly and had an innate talent for the trade. Of course I had a reputation to uphold so even though I had found a temporary lodging and family with Grandfather, I was allowed to market to frolic about. I was forbidden from pickpocketing, but I was allowed to gamble. He taught me the ways of liar’s dice and of cards. I got even better at those than I did at mapmaking. All in all I was making good money for myself and for Grandfather. My time however, was running out.
The sailing season was rapidly coming to an end and ships were docking. Grandfather fell ill and was not recovering like he should have. I spent several weeks nursing him until he passed. The subject is still sore. I do not wish to speak of his untimely death. I do miss him dearly though. He left his home and his workplace to me, all of his maps and fortune were in my name. My heart shattered when I received the news. I boarded up the windows and packed a satchel with a spare set of clothes and my favorite maps. Travelling would do me good. See the places we had drawn hundreds of times. I was out on my own for a while with a small share of the fund he had left behind.
My first and last stop was the docks. I ran headlong into a mysterious stranger. My belongings fell out of my satchel and across the cobblestones, the dark figure of a man stooping low to help me gather them. He noticed one of my works, a map I had drawn up for Grandfather as a gift. The stranger held it aloft and far out of my reach. Curses for being such a small woman. He asked of its creator and if it was for sale. I quickly informed him that no it was not for sale and its owner was deceased. As for its creator, they wished to remain anonymous. The man smiled, he had a mischievous glint in his eyes, a knowing look that you only saw on people like me. Cunning little street rats with agendas. While this man was no street rat, he was not a notable member of society either. His clothes were dirty and stiff with salt, leather belts and boots softened by years of use. His hair was filthy and hung long and limp by the sides of his head, a tricorn captain’s hat sat stuffed messily on top of his noggin. The only noticeable things about him were his coal black eyes, thick beard, and stench . By god did this man smell.
I was quick to reassess my attitude because he introduced himself as Captain Edward Teach. My pupils widened rapidly and I nearly shat my breeches. I had run into the most dangerous man on the planet, and then denied him my map quite snarkily. Hell, I had the nerve to insult him within my thoughts and I feared he had read my mind and damned me to the locker for the rest of my mortal days. This was not to be at all, truly. Captain Teach offered me a job. A Wayfinder he called it. While I was handy with a compass I had never set foot on a ship before, let alone plot a course for one. I told him as much and he just laughed, grabbed my arm and tugged me along in the direction he had appeared from. We passed the docks and the Queen Anne’s Revenge. He shushed me when I went to make a remark on the oddity of his heading. He shuffled me all the way to the creaking door of a dirty inn called Black Dog.
Once inside he was greeted by cheers and raised tankards of ale. Only one woman at a table by herself in the center of it all did not seem pleased by his presence. He dragged me all the way to the grumpy mistress and promptly introduced her as his sister Rachel. A tall woman with matching black eyes and dark hair, except her hair was pretty ringlets braided back against her head and left free flowing at the ends. She was pale and very displeased to meet me. I introduced myself as Gwyn, knowing full well the captain had seen my signature and knew that to be a shortened variety of it. If he had thought anything of it he did not say anything at the time.
He rambled on about my use to the crew and how beneficial I would be at navigating the treacherous waters of the Carribean and around places like Cape Agulhas. He wished to reach the ends of the earth and live to tell the tale and only I was the one that could do that. He wanted to be able to hide his treasures in places no other pirates dare go. Rachel eventually agreed, her brother becoming even more excitable and ordering a round of ale for everyone. A tankard was thrust into my hands, even though I had never agreed to the job. However, I found a kind of excitement building in me. A wanderlust that had been tamped down for years was being lit and fanned like a blacksmith’s fire.
I had never imbibed in the vices of men before and I should have known better than to have drank so much. I woke to a gentle swaying of the world and a terrible pain in my skull. The panic quickly overshadowed the pain as I opened my eyes as wide as possible despite the headache. I had found myself in an unfamiliar room, decorated sparsely and stocked with all of the familiar supplies of my trade. While it was small, it was larger than my little cubby at Grandfather’s. I found myself seated in a hammock that had been hung in a far corner, a window was curtained and letting in a trickle of sunlight. There was a desk and a cushioned chair as well, with lanterns and candles placed strategically for lighting. I hated it. I swung myself out of the hammock and realised another thing. I was not wearing any breeches or undergarments. Just a blouse that was much larger than my small frame.
More panic ensued shortly.
Everywhere but my head felt fine and there were no bruises or soreness to be catalogued. I had spent plenty a night warming strangers beds in inns before I met grandfather, I was no fool. I was calmed by the lack of damage and grateful to whoever had taken care of me last night, for they left me my satchel and change of clothes upon the desk with a carefully written note.
Gwyn,
I hope this finds you well and not ill from the revelry of the night before. While I may have disliked the notion of having another crew member, we were in need of a wayfinder and helmsman. I understand you have never sailed before so we will teach you how to pilot, but I am anxious to see your work with charcoal and ink. My brother has spoken wonders about your craftsmanship. I am thrilled to have another girl aboard as well. My dresses are all too large for such a slight thing like you so I’ve left out what you brought. Not to worry I didn’t pry at your work or papers. I hope you will show me in confidence sometime soon. There will be a deckhand loitering about in the hallway outside your door that is instructed to take you to my brother’s quarters for breakfast. We will await your arrival. Welcome aboard the Queen Anne’s Revenge.
Rachel Teach
The note put me further at ease and I quickly dressed myself in my preferred breeches and blouse. My corset was also placed amongst the careful arrangement of clothes and I felt it best to leave it off for now. I was small enough chested to pass as a boy, but I’m sure everyone here had already heard of or met me. Even if I don’t remember a lick of it.
I poked my head out of the door and sure enough there was a man waiting for me outside of it. He was a large fellow and gruff. He didn’t say much but I gathered the notion to follow him. The letter aiding my assumptions of his intentions. We walked down a narrow hallway and up some stairs and then made an abrupt turn at a door, the stairwell had opened up onto the top deck of the ship and then to the captain’s quarters on the other side.We waited after the man knocked outside of an ornate door, painted black and emblazoned in gentle calligraphy Capt. Edward “Blackbeard” Teach . It opened in a short time. Behind it was Rachel, gently smiling. She welcomed me in and the deckhand faded from existence. I was startled by the disappearance and stopped myself from looking for him. I remember the rumors of Blackbeard dying several years ago. Almost a decade now. Stranger things have happened. I chose to move forward and not worry myself with such things.
Inside the captain’s quarters, food was laid out for me, and it seemed, only for me. It became a bit harder for me not to question the mortal status of the man sitting serenely before me. Questions that would soon be answered, unbeknownst to me at the time.
After becoming comfortably seated and told to dig in I politely ate my fill and almost spat it back up as the man in front of me became mist. He let out a hearty laugh as I choked on my own air. He told me of the curse that followed him. He saw it as a blessing at times as well because he still had emotions, the ability to feel. He was now a guardian of the weak. He told me of his triumphs against slave ships leaving Madagascar and again of the defeat of the Japanese forces trying to overtake trade ships. He was plundering the imperialistic predators that roamed the open waters. He was king of No Man’s Land. The whole ship was a ghost. She had found herself in a watery grave almost a hundred years ago. He had made a name for himself again in England, though many thought he was a new pirate, copying himself from long ago. He regaled me with the tale of their deaths. I had found myself among a phantom crew. Surprisingly, I was not the only living amongst the dead. SOme of the crew had passed on and there were spaces to fill. The captain was glad to say the final blessing for his long gone crew and invited the living aboard once more. He hand picked each green member from different ports and ships around the world. Some members were rescued from slave traders, others were offered penance for their crimes against humanity and were paying their dues in eternal service.
I was to be the newest member. I immediately declined eternity. To say I was met with shock was not enough to describe the befuddlement that fell over the captain and his sister. However a decision was soon reached that satisfied us all. I would have an open ended contract with them, for as long as I remained a part of the crew I was subject to temporary immortality. I was also guaranteed three months off every year to return to my home in London to look after the shop and possibly find an apprentice. Until I either grew tired of adventure or I found myself a worthy apprentice I was to sail with them and help chart the world and pilot the Revenge. I had secured myself an adventure and a future. I was also paid a wage of the spoils of every ship we overtook while I was under the captain’s employment.
I find myself below decks now, I’ve overtaken an old crate and a couple of lanterns to chart our first course after we leave London. We will not be sailing for another few months, but that leaves plenty of time to learn the ship and continue practicing my skills in my free time. Grandfather’s old compass and flintlock rest easily amongst the chaos of my workspace. I feel overwhelmed by emotion now. That’s enough writing for tonight. I will return to this again when I find the time.
Gwyndolen
“Count your years wisely dearest, the reaper catches up to us faster when we aren’t looking back”- Grandfather