​ “For too long I’ve been parched of thirst and unable to quench it. Too long I’ve been starving to death and haven’t died. I feel nothing. Not the wind on my face nor the salty spray of the sea. Nor the warmth of a woman’s flesh, yet here we stand upon the very sands that doomed the pearl, the very wash that caused the dutchman to run aground,and here you milksops point and make spaced fun at the captain of the watch. How dare ye?  

Ye who ignored the warning of the mighty calypso herself, ye who did not sign treaties with the barrons, but still hope for calm sea and easy crossings thus. Shiver in shame ye lily livered cowards. For the moon will rise as surely as ever, but will ye see it? Or will Ye, be forever cursed to walk in shadows as I am. Cursed that I may never quench the parched thirst.  I feel nothing. I hear little more than whispers,  Not the wind on my face nor the salty spray of the sea. Nor the warmth of a woman’s flesh. And yet here we are once more. Bemoaning the very gods that set our courses.
Better were the days when mastery of seas came not from bargains struck with linden creatures… but from the sweat of a woman’s brow and the strength of her back alone. You all know this to be true! men think it be them as mastered the wave, but truth is not so gender biased me thinks. And Calypso be praised we know history well enough this day.
And ye,  Still thinkin’ oh running, ? Think you can outrun the world? You know the problem with being the last of anything, by and by there be none left at all. ye, but that’d be a gamble of long odds, ain’t it? There’s never a guarantee of comin’ back. But passin’ on, that’s dead certain. So be nice to the linden creatures, but by the stars be firm. For if ye fail it, if ye, ignore them odds,the dice upon the table,then ye will find the sea a cruel mistress. 
It be too late to alter course, so raise missen, top sheet a quarter tack, and hold the filler fast, brace her to the winds of fate, and let her run the course we charted. Ye  heart and mind hold true, and if ye do perhaps calypso be a fair mistress of the sea,and calm wters, lofty winds, and fair waves will be the manner of her gifts.”

Ten bells sound and the mists swirl as She vanished..

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