Captain Langdon, the long-dead grandfather
of my long-dead grandmother, held
a telescope to his eye. A feather
on the horizon told
him quite clearly that a pirate
ship was approaching, and that it would be
able to outspeed the converted frigate
aboard which he
and a cargo of settlers were sailing
to Van Diemen’s Land. There was time to call
a meeting of the ship’s company, detailing
the situation. All
of the passengers were soon agreed:
there was no escape, in all that ocean.
Best to surrender peacefully, and plead
for mercy. The notion
of surrender was foreign to the captain,
though. Instead, he proposed a scheme
no-one else thought at all certain
of success; it would seem
far too risky. Still, he ordered the crew,
and all the male passengers, to dress themselves
in a set of uniforms, scarlet and navy blue,
from the storeroom shelves
below deck, and had some canvas hung
over the gunwales to imitate the form
of a row of gunports. A bell was rung.
In uniform,
the men on deck were commanded to march
about executing the drills that they would
if they were a troop of marines. Much
depended on a good
and convincing performance. Next, he turned
the helm toward the pirate’s course, and sent
flags up in the signal all mariners learned
to show an intent
(or what should appear a warship’s intention)
to make chase and then to board an enemy.
Of course it was a bluff. The tension
as they waited to see
if the bluff would succeed seemed to draw
air from the ship’s sails, yet still the captain
held his nerve. The other ship, as he foresaw,
yawed about, and then
with its greater speed began retreating
toward the horizon. The passengers
cheered. The captain enjoyed the fleeting
yet real pleasures
that come with being a hero. A farm
on the fertile banks of the Clyde River
in Van Diemen’s Land was given to him
by the Governor
as a reward, and he soon retired
from the sea. He became a prominent
citizen, respected and admired
wherever he went,
except for the fact that all his decisions
on land were hopelessly wrong. Elected
to the legislature, he made its sessions
seem shipwrecked
as he opposed every form of progress
the Industrial Revolution brought.
Conservative and cantankerous,
he alone thought
that the first railway line should not be allowed.
This time, his bluff was doomed to fail.
For his funeral, there was a grateful crowd
who arrived by rail.