'GANS AT SEA

by Ms Lucille D'ecoupage

Larsfeldt the Whaler sat at the mess table and stuffed a huge mouthful of maggot-infested bread in his toothless gob and washed it down with ale, streams of which flowed down the sides of his mouth and into his coarse undergarments. The others watched in horror as he attempted to smile and strip lengths of dried meat from a slab which had been thrown to him like an animal at a zoo. He nodded and giggled like an imbecile, his ragged blond hair sat in tangles on the top of his head and he smelled poorly, as any man would who had obviously lived a life of shame and deception.

"Sank you. Sank you once again..." he said between mouthfuls of food. The crew were taken aback by his condition - as yet unaware that this was his normal manner of eating. Larsfeldt passed wind explosively and set about to giggling. The room cleared, leaving only Farthing, who breathed through his shirt sleeve and Tarbin who stood transfixed, horrified by the stranger's appalling disposition.

"What manner of incarceration were you subject to?" asked Farthing, assuming the man had spent the past few months chained to a bulwark.

"Uhn?" came the stunted reply.

"Are you a convict? Have you commited some heinious crime?"

Larsfeldt wiped at his chin and replied with dramatic subservience, "Oh no... no Sir. I haf committed no crime. I am a God fearing Christian like you Sir. A God fearing Christian like you."

"Do youth bear any documenthathion?" demanded Tarbin.

The Whaler stopped chewing and raised one eybrow, "Do I vot?"

"Dothumenthathion. Do you hath any paperth?"

"Paperth? Ah jah jah..." he dug fitfully in his small bag, "Jah I haf mine paperth, just ein minute." He withdrew a leather bound sachet which appeared much too exquisite for his taste. Inside he found a worn certificate and handed it to the Lieutenant.

"You are a firtht offither I thee..." Tarbin's speech became more inflicted during times of stress.

"Jah. You vill see zat everything is ein order." Larsfeldt resumed eating, although with considerably less vigour.

"Would you mind explaining to us sir, the manner in which you were introduced?" said Farthing.

Larsfeldt paused again, grunted and then belched. "Zose men are animals Sir. I meant to reform them. Make zem true mariners Sir... But my good intentions are misinterpreted."

"You are a mutineer then?" barked the Captain.

"Ach no! No. Mutineer? Don't be zo zilly."

"Lieutenant, this man is to be confined until he is more willing to cooperate." With that Farthing turned and strode to his quarters. Tarbin and Larsfeldt stared at one another for a moment until Tarbin called down the gangway, "Guardth!"