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Eff the Ineffable
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Let’s think the unthinkable,
let’s do the undoable.
Let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself,
and see if we may not eff it after all.
- Douglas Adams
Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency
The “student” of this unpleasant art
had to submit
himself to
a grotesque ritual.
- Idries Shah
The Sufis
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The captain of the pirate ketch lowered his spyglass, the scowl on his face unusually ineffable to his first mate. The captain felt a little ineffable even to himself. A sense of dread, unlike anything he had ever experienced before continued to creep over him as the large man-o-war with strangely elaborate sails and riggings, and an unusually sleek and streamlined hull, closed on them with unnatural speed. Though she bristled with several stories of gun-ports, no cannon peeked out threateningly. She was truly a gorgeous ship, he admitted to himself. She sailed under a black flag, usually an indication of less than friendly intentions (“surrender or die”), but several of the mysterious vessel’s crew stood in the open on her forecastle, potentially exposed to enemy fire. They waved their hands in a friendly greeting. The ketch’s captain was vexed and perplexed.
“Perhaps they recognize us as fellow pirates and want to work together?”
The first mate wondered aloud. The thought did nothing to assuage the captain; he didn’t need any more “friendly pirates”, especially so well-outfitted, competing for the meager booty in these waters. On the other hand, he did fancy that ship. This unholy mixture of lust and dread was the source of his current ineffability. He knew there was an outcome here he couldn’t predict, and this great unknown caused fear that aroused him like blood in the water to a shark.
“I’d love to bloody well know how she managed to steal up so close to us without anyone sounding a warning. Damned be the watchdog who did not bark. Curse his useless eyes. Perhaps I will pluck out one of them for this offense."
“But you would’ve thought I was mad, Cap’n. That ship dropped out of the sun. I….”
The second mate’s unbelievable tale was cut short by the captain’s cold steely glare.
“Are you fucking lying to me, you son of a bitch? Are you that goddamned stupid? Better I think you a lunatic than a snake.”
The captain snarled.
“Fortunately for you, your punishment is postponed. Everything is overshadowed by this ship. She’s far too large to be taken by force, and she’s obviously far too swift for us too outrace her.”
Furious, the captain spun and growled at the crew.
“Do any of you useless dogs knows this vessel, The Brew D’Agon?”
The captain’s scowl deepened as his inquiry was met with a chorus of negative grumbles. His ketch gunboat had been at sea for almost two months now, the crew surviving on what freight they could plunder from the meager scattering of local merchant ships. The band of thieves were growing tired of waiting on the promised treasure ship the captain claimed was due to pass through these waters “soon enough”.
“Oui, monsieur!”
The captain did not recognize the youthful voice, but when he turned he saw it belonged to one of the “volunteers”. He couldn’t remember which vessel they had taken the man from – no, wait, he did remember. It was that French rumrunner, which explained the trouble with his memory as well as the sailor's heavy accent.
The two criminal ships had blundered into each other when the pirates had sought to escape a Royale warship patrolling nearby by slipping into a hidden cove already being used by the rumrunners for the same purpose. The need to stay silent had turned the tide in the favor of the far deadlier crew. In the hand to hand fighting that ensued, his cutthroats outnumbered and outmuscled the smugglers, who quickly surrendered to escape certain death. A drunken – at times orgiastic – plundering had begun immediately after his crew had discovered the smugglers’ cargo hold full of rum. Fortunately for some of the rumrunners, the pirate gunboat was in need of a few extra hands. This young sailor had been one of that lot. The Captain gave a curt motion for the Frenchman to come closer.
“Tell me your name, pup, and what you think you know.”
“Oui, capitaine. I am Louis de Lyon. I was of le contrabandiers. A few months ago, we made a rendezvous at a tavern Brew D’Agon in Nassau. I hear they have appeared in many ports as of late, but, capitaine, I have never heard of a ship by that name. Of this ship, I know nothing.”
The captain nodded thoughtfully when Louis was finished.
“Louie the Lion? If you are lyin’, your tongue will be cut out and nailed to the mast. Do not try to play me for the fool. You will regret it. Mark my words, boy.”
The murderous pirate captain dismissed his young subordinate with a callous shooing wave, and brought his spyglass back to his eye. After a few moments, without removing the glass from its position, the pirate captain barked.
“Where’s my first mate?”
“Here, Captain.”
“Arm the lads, and bring them to me. We will turn this in our favor. I fancy that ship’s lines. Let’s give her a new captain and take from her crew what we can. We don’t have long before that beautiful she-devil will be upon us. Tell them to flash no steel, but be ready to board and seize her on my command. Now, mongrel, step to! The party is about to begin.”
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