2/15/16
“Oh look. What a picturesque little pub. I just love these places,” said Rita to her friend. “And what a clever name, The Last Port Pub. Let’s step in for a quick pick-me-up.”
“Good idea,” Thelma answered. “I need to get off my feet a bit. We’ve been sightseeing for hours.”
“Ah, a nautical décor. How quaint. And look at that print of a sailing ship wrecking?”
“Yes. I believe it’s The Shipwreck by Vernet.”
“Ooh, there’s a small carving below it. It looks like it’s been done on a piece of bone. Wait a minute, I think that’s real ivory.”
“Scrimshaw.”
“No, really. It a little picture carved onto a piece of ivory tusk.”
Thelma didn’t bother to respond. Instead she walked to an empty table against the wall and sat down. She chose the chair which wasn’t beneath the relic whaling harpoon suspended from the ceiling, and left that one for Rita to take once she came along.
It was early afternoon and they were the only customers in the pub. But its well-worn appearance told of boisterous merriment at night. The corners of the table were sticky where they hadn’t been wiped thoroughly. The chairs at several tables were mismatched, showing that whenever one got broken its replacement was chosen without care. And the astringent scent of pine oil cleanser lingering in the air wasn’t strong enough to cover the unmistakable odors of vomit and urine.
Thelma pulled the linen handkerchief from her purse and held it to her nose while she took a deep breath. As she did so Rita completed her tour of the room’s artifacts and finally joined Thelma at the table.
“Oh, did you see this?” Rita asked. She spotted a small map hanging on the wall above their table. “Hmm, Dagger Bay & Environs. There’s the town, and the harbor, and, ooh, a governor’s residence. Where is Dagger Bay anyway? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s only in some artist’s imagination. There’s no such place,” answered Thelma tersely.
“Arr, but there is,” said a gruff voice behind them. Turning to look they saw the barman coming from the back room and wiping his hands on a stained hand towel as he approached their table. “Dagger Bay is real enough.” Then seeing the skeptical expression on Thelma’s face he continued. “Surely tis true. I’ve been there m’self many years ago.”
His gaze locked onto the map and the lines around his eyes and mouth softened a bit. “The main town was founded by immigrants hailing from all parts of the world, with a large contingent of former pirates thrown in fer good measure. They’re an artistic lot who love creatin’ the most fantastical things of beauty you’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, how lovely. It sounds just like an artists’ colony,” gushed Rita.
“But the settlers aren’t the only inhabitants of the island. Deep in the jungle is a tribe of natives what go around with very little clothing. We didn’t see ’em often and only knew ’em as the ‘Strippers’. On special occasions known only to them, they would engage in fearsome battles with each other. Their contests were quite bloody and often continued nearly a month. Only the hardiest would emerge alive at the end.”
“I’m sure,” Thelma said with a flat tone of voice. “Most
unbelievable.”
“Yeah, scrimshaw!” joined in Rita.
“Unbelievable, ye say? But that isn’t the half of it,” continued the barman. “In that amazing land are things found nowhere else. There be dragons, and phoenixes, talking frogs, and other creatures said to be mythical, except that there they are, right in front of you. Even devils and satans and other demonic beasties can be seen about.
“There were also legends of a most frightening being. Some say he was a powerful magus, while others described him more fearsomely, yet none knew what he truly was. He’d go about with a lantern, searching for a name what had been stolen from him.”
“Oh, come on, now! Do you expect us to believe this?” Thelma barely contained her impatience. “If that place was really all you say, then why would you have left it?”
“Aye, yer right,” he said. “I didn’t want to leave. I was cast away from it unwillingly. I was in a small boat, ye see, fishing offshore, when a squall came up suddenly and blew me far out to sea. Having lost my sail and oars, I then got caught in a current which carried me untold miles further still. At last I was seen by a passing freighter and picked up. I pleaded with them no end to take me back. But no, they wouldn’t. Instead they brought me here, and here I’ve been dry docked ever since. Many’s the time I’ve longed to go back. But few are the ships that venture to such a place. Besides, I’m no longer strong enough for that sort of life any more.”
“You poor fellow. Pulled out of paradise,” cooed Rita. She reached out and touched his hand in sympathy. But the contact of her gesture made him give a start and his demeanor became gruff again.
“So, are ye ladies going to order anything? Or will ye just sit here talking all day?”
Rita overlooked his comment and answered first. “I’d like a salad of fresh greens and a cup of chocolate-mint tea, please.”
“I’d like a salad too,” joined in Thelma. “And a double-mocha espresso latte.”
“Nay. Fer a drink like that ye’ll have to go down the street to one of them –”
“Never mind then. Just bring a cup of Earl Grey.”
Thelma watched the barman until he disappeared into the back room, then turned to Rita. “Did you ever hear such nonsense? Dagger Bay, indeed! It’s all nothing but a sailor’s tall tales.”
Rita shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. When I was looking around earlier, I saw something interesting over there behind the bar. It was a large gold coin mounted in a frame, and it was stamped, Dagger Bay, One Doubloon. So apparently that place is real enough to mint coins.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It looked like real gold too!”
“Still, I’m not entirely convinced.” But Thelma’s tone was softening and a crease formed between her eyebrows as she thought about it.
“I noticed a travel agency just up the block,” said Rita. “After lunch let’s go see if they’ve heard of it. Maybe they even have a tour package we can look at.”
“Why does that place sound so attractive to you?”
“Are you joking? They have pirates, fantastic creatures, and, ahem, strippers!”
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