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Daily log of a pirate's life
The Legend of the Pirate Ghost Rikura
The Legend of the Pirate Ghost Rikura

A small Caribbean island inhabited now only by the natives is home to the legend of the pirate ghost Rikura. There are many stories about the beautiful Rikura, however, this is the true one. And how do I know? That is my secret.

Back when pirates roamed the global waters freely tales flowed about a beautiful pirate by the name of Rikura. She was a fairly tall, slender lady –and indeed she was a lady as all who ever met her would attest. The most striking and unusual feature about her hair, for it was a bright green. Now this was before the current fashion of coloring one’s hair and hers was green from birth. Some say it was because she had Irish in her background, although she claimed Scottish, and others said it was because her grandmother was a mermaid.

Now you might ask how could a pirate be a lady? Well, she never murdered anyone nor allowed her crew to murder except in self-defense. She was a master at swordsmanship and unarmed many a foe then forcing them to jump into the brine. After robbing a ship she would dismantle their weapons and as she entered her own ship would shout orders to the other ship to haul aboard the men who were overboard. It was rumored that her crew loved her.

By some magic known only to her, she could outdistance her ship quickly and disappear over the horizon. The truth was she was an excellent sailor and could navigate well even on the darkest night. She had a “sixth sense” about direction and how to handle a boat even in severe storms.

No one knew exactly where Rikura was from as she and her pirate crew claimed no nation as homeland.

However, about once a year on a dark night a ship flying no flag at all would sail in close to shore of various countries and the longboats would row silently ashore laying low in the water. Several hours later these same boats would row back to the unidentified ship, this time riding higher in the water.

The next morning several orphanages and almshouses would find sacks of gold sitting in their kitchens.

One dark night Rikura found her ship in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle being chased by a British warship. Suddenly a terrible storm arose with lashing waves and cold sharp winds.

Rikura watched as the British ship’s mast fell, splintering the boat in half and quickly sank. She felt an uneasiness that she had never felt before. She and her crew had been shipwrecked 5 times before, but had managed to repair her ship, the Mistic. The First and Second Mates struggled to keep the Mistic headed into the wind.

Far off on the starboard side, Rikura thought she glimpsed lights, however, there were no islands in this part of the ocean.

Looking to port Rikura saw a enormous wave just as it crashed over the deck sweeping all the crew and Rikura into the ocean. Rikura realized her ship was going down and swam as far away as she could to not be sucked under with her ship.

For a few moments she could hear the men calling to one another and then silence. The winds had stopped shrieking and lashing at the waves. And blackness. The darkness blackness she could ever remember. Not a star in the sky.

Rikura felt something hard bump into her and realized it was a plank from her ship. Wearily she pulled herself unto the plank and stretched out happy to at least be on something solid.

The next morning on the island the natives hurried to the house of Monsieur. Monsieur was French and the natives could not pronounce his French name and so they and the little Spanish priest had simply called him Monsieur. How he and the Spanish priest came to be on the island is another story.

The natives had found a beautiful lady washed up on the shore. Monsieur hurried to the beach and found what they said was true. The most beautiful lady he had ever seen was lying on the beach. As he pushed her long brown hair gently out of her face, he saw a glimpse of green shinning in the early morning sunlight. He thought he was mistaken about the green and so said nothing.

He gently scoped her into his arms and carried her to his house and laid her on his bed. Looking at her torn clothing he wondered if she were a pirate. He had heard stories of a green haired female pirate from the captains of the various ships who anchored off his island and rowed ashore for his hospitality.

Monsieur was strong man, yet kind and gentle to all - humans and animals –and thus lived in peace on his island. For several days Rikura did not awaken and Monsieur watched tenderly over her.

Finally she opened her eyes and stared up into his, sensing his kindness and gentleness. Rikura felt a peace and safety with this man even though she did not know where she was nor who he was.

Monsieur did not ask her name nor anything about how she came to be on his island. Instead he asked if she could eat a little broth for nourishment. Rikura nodded and he instructed the native housekeeper to bring a bowl. After helping Rikura to sit up by propping pillows behind her, he held the bowl out to her. Rikura was still shaky from the ordeal and so The Mister spooned the warm broth into her mouth.

This happened for several days. On the fourth day after she awakened fully Rikura looked down at her clothing and realized she was still wearing rags and probably had ruined the bedding on this fine bed. Before she could even speak Monsieur asked if she felt up to bathing and wearing some clean clothes.

Nodding, Rikura wondered how and where she would bath and what she could wear. Once again he gently scoped her into his arms and carried her down a hallway and into another bedroom where a large tub full of water awaited her. He stood her on her feet next to the bedpost for support. Then turning to the native housekeeper, he smiled, nodded, spoke a few words in a native dialect Rikura did not understand and left the room.

The housekeeper smiled at Rikura and asked with hand signs if she needed help. Rikura shook her head and the housekeeper vanished.

After a leisurely bath Rikura was surprised to find a skirt and blouse that fit her exactly. She glanced around the room and saw the mirror. Looking into it she realized her hair was no longer green, rather a warm brown color. Leaning closer to the mirror she felt the sunshine through the window and saw the undertones of green. “The sea either hates me or loves me” she murmured to herself.

Rikura found her way to the veranda and as she came through the screen door Monsieur rose to his feet and extended his hand towards several chairs. “Please come and sit with me, My Lady” he invited.

Rikura and Monsieur sat and visited on the veranda much of the time for the next several months. They talked about the beautiful flowers blooming around the house or the cute native children when they would come bringing some fresh fruit for Monsieur or His Lady. Never did he ask her name, always calling her My Lady, nor how she came to be on his shore.

After several months Monsieur asked if she would like to walk down to the edge of the water. Rikura had not been near the water since her arrival at the house although Monsieur had told her how the natives had found her and came to him.

As Rikura approached the sandy beach a wariness came upon her. This was the sixth shipwreck and had totally destroyed her ship and apparently everyone aboard it and the British warship. Monsieur asked her if she cared to walk along the shore and she replied, “The sea does not like me.” So they both sat in the shade of a tree at the inland edge of the beach.

For the first time Rikura asked if there were any other survivors, to which Monsieur replied, “None.” He explained that the natives had taken their canoes out for days searching for survivors or wreckage and there was none.

They were quiet for long moments, and then Monsieur reached over and stoked her hair, the first time he had shown any romantic gestures. “Your hair is beautiful,” he said. Silently he again noticed the glimmers of green, as he often did when the light shone at just the right angle on her hair.

Monsieur then told her he had fallen in love with her. Rikura realized that she had fallen in love with him –his gentle ways, his kindnesses to all, his strength as he had carried her while she was yet weak from the shipwreck, his respect for her privacy. Monsieur asked her to marry him and live there on the island as his wife. Rikura quickly agreed because as much as she had enjoyed being a pirate, she more so enjoyed the peace of the island.

The little Spanish priest married them the next day, Rikura wearing a lovely dress made as a surprise by the housekeeper and her daughters.

That night Rikura and Monsieur shared their secrets of where they came from and how they came to the island.

Whenever ships arrived and the Captains and officers came ashore to dine with Monsieur, they always admired his beautiful wife whom he called My Lady, and so they too called her My Lady. When they questioned the natives about Rikura the only answers they received were “She came from the sea. She is His Lady.”

About a year after they were married, Rikura delivered twins –a boy and a girl. They had their father’s dark hair, but in the sunlight one could see glimpses of green.

Rikura had been educated and so she taught the twins all the grammar and history she knew and Monsieur taught them math and how to navigate by the stars and they both shared the stories they had been told by their parents, so the children grew up fairly well educated intellectually and in manners. They both had their parents love and kindness towards others. However, whenever they asked how the parents came to be on the island and where they were from, the only answer either of them ever received was “From the sea.”

The twins loved the water and often swam in the cove with their father. Rikura would sit and watch and when the twins asked her to come swim she would always reply, “The sea does not like me.”

Twenty years later a new pirate roamed the high seas with a green flag. He was tall and handsome with dark hair that sometimes seemed to have a glimpse of green in it. Once again the orphanages and almshouses found sacks of gold in their kitchens. And what happened to him. Well, that is another story.

As ships came and went visiting the island, a young French officer met and fell in love with the daughter. Several years later a new couple moved into Paris, a former French ship’s officer and his beautiful wife with long dark hair that people often thought when they saw her in the sunlight or candlelight carried glimpses of green. And hers too is another story.

Many years later, Monsieur died and was buried on his island. Shortly thereafter, His Lady walked down to the water’s edge one evening and disappeared.

Even to this day, the natives tell of the Ghost of His Lady wandering the shoreline in the late twilight or early morning. And if the moonlight is bright enough you might be able to see glimpses of green in her long now silver hair.





 
 
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