Blog Writing Summative #4 (18-22)

Twenty-fifth
My suspicions were correct! Zachariah has managed to get to Charlotte and plan with her for another try at my leadership. Thanks to Mr. Keetch of course, whom I forced to gather information for me by forcing his children into prison after claiming I saw them stealing my gold watch. I told him I would help him bail them out, but  of course I wouldn't though, because instead, I will accuse him for treason along with the rest of the crew for the mutiny staged against me,where he can join his children. Also, if my plan goes as planned, Ms. Doyle and Mr. Zachariah shall both be in my control before the end of this voyage, which is in less than a day at the most. Anyway, Mr. Keetch has told me that Charlotte is planning to come around dawn to get my guns so I will be defenseless against the crew. She is dumb, because she trusts Mr. Keetch to do his job, which is supposed to lure me away from my cabin. Like that would ever happen. I have told him to lure Zachariah out instead, when dawn comes. She is cornered in every way. Foolish little girl. She shall be chastened very soon.
Oh and, just to note, Ms. Doyle's trial was a complete success, and she should have been hanged in 24 hours, although now it seems that it will have to be pulled. Anyway, the crew is convinced that she has killed Mr. Hollybrass thanks to my accusations, plus the obvious proof. They are really dumb dogs, easy to lead and convince. I could probably get them to jump off a climb if I had enough reason for it. I told them that all her 'unnatural' actions would have easily caused her to do something even more unnatural, like murder. Also, she could have done it for revenge for Zachariah as well. By then, I could tell the crew knew he was alive, because many looked very surprised at this. Even Ms. Doyle was as well, though before, she seemed to not know. Thanks to Mr. Keetch, I now know that they met while she was first thrown in the brig. Not surprised. A dead man meeting a prisoner seems very funny!
I think I just heard footsteps outside. I think it's Ms. Doyle. She won't get very far, I guarantee  that. I will write more after I deal with her.

Last entry: Charlotte Doyle
This is Charlotte Doyle, and  just to finish this journal, I will write the events that have happened after Captain Jaggery's last entry. Even if it is filled with his dirty schemes, stories always deserve a conclusion, like my father said. This journal reveals many things about the Captain.
First to say, Captain Jaggery is dead. In the log book, it is recorded that he had been swept away by the storm when it was at its fullest, dying a heroic death, like Mr. Hollybrass' record. Of course, this is a complete lie, but we need to cover up for what really happened. Here is the story.
If I am correct, the last entry's ending is when I started my plan to get the guns from the captain's cabin, for I noticed his journal was open as I crept in. Anyway, I crept in, only to be greeted by Captain Jaggery, who had apparently been waiting for me! He revealed how Mr. Keetch had been working for him all along, which shocked me then, but makes sense now. It says he had blackmailed him. When I told Mr. Keetch what the Captain was really going to do, he was horrified. Anyway, I was disgusted, but I had no choice but to talk with the captain, in which he told me why he hated me, which was because I changed the natural order of sailors, where the captain leads and depends on the crew to keep the boat sailing, and the crew depending on the captain for orders and does the work for him. Instead, he claims I changed this so the crew would question their place on a ship, disrupting the usual order. I think he is referring to the time when I become part of the crew. Anyhow, he also explained why he killed Mr. Hollybrass. Then, he proceeded to turn on the lights in the cabin, and to my surprise, I found the whole room, which looked clean in the darkness and shadow, was totally ruined by the storm! After that, he gave me three choices; be hanged, renounce my sailor life in front of the crew, or kill him. However, I trusted the crew to the end and ran out instead, only to find Zachariah tied up by Mr. Keetch. I tried to get the crew to see the truth, but Captain came up with another lie that I had tried to sneak into his cabin and tried to kill him with his pistol, but it seemed like the crew believed him. They let us battle it out, and at that point, I was so desperate, I retreated to the very end of bowsprit, and it was terrifying. However, the captain still wouldn't stop! He kept coming closer, but at the same time he lunged at me, the sea rocked the boat, and he fell off. I tried to grab him, but he missed and drowned. I'm not sure why I tried to save him, but it was instinct, and at that moment I knew I would never even dare to kill anyone. After that, the true story was shared with the crew, and they were extremely sorry about their actions. I still wish I could have counted on them, but at least now everything is over.
We will be reaching land in a couple hours, according to Zachariah, and I am sad to see the crew and I separate. They are really great friends. I'm going to miss them and the life of a sailor.

About more than a week later: Charlotte Doyle
I came back! I sneaked out of my home, for my real home is here, on this boat. We have just left dock, and Mr. Fisk is now captain! The boat has also gotten many repairs, obviously. Anyway, I got tired of my parents forcing me to become a high-class girl. Its to strict and stiff, and a life of a sailor is better. Much better. From the crew, there seems to be an abundant amount of joy. Except Mr. Keetch, that is. The crew hasn't seen him for some time now, after he resigned from the crew. I hope he is okay, because no one should fall under the influence of Jaggery like that.
Now that seems like a proper conclusion. Or is it just a new beginning? Anyhow, got to get back to work! I'm hoping for another exciting journey!

Blog Writing Summative #3

Nineteenth day

I knew it!! I knew it! I should have never trusted that cursed girl! How dare she join the crew, plus defy my orders! How dare she disobey her superior! That scum joining the crew? What nonsense! She will make a mistake and injure herself, and I’ll let her do it and prove her that she is a fool to join that blasted crew! Here’s what happened; when I came out to deck to investigate why so much noise was going on outside, and what I found?! A bunch of loud, lazy slackers who weren’t even working! How dare they! But just as I was about to rebuke them, I realized they were all looking up, to the mast. What in the world? I though, but then all the sudden the crew shouted “huzzah!” and startled me. I quickly looked up, and to my horror, I saw Ms. Doyle appearing from behind the lowest sail on the mast. She, I mean he was wearing those disgusting, loose sailor rags she had gotten from that blasted Zachariah. How dare she even touches them! But then, the crew shouted “jump!”, and even worse, she did! She landed on the deck and nearly collapsed, and I had realized by then what she had been doing up there. She had been climbing the mast all the way to the top and back, which was totally outrageous! I immediately pushed through the crew as they cheered for her while she got up, and stood before her, looking down with a glare that I’m pretty sure would have scared a lion.  However, on her face, instead of any signs of a fearful countenance, she seemed merely surprised.  Right there I was thunderstruck. She wasn’t scared at all! And as I glared at her, I heard shuffling footsteps that told me the crew was backing up, already afraid. Cowards!  So I asked Ms. Doyle what she was doing, and she replied that she had become one of the crew. Then I realized what she meant and why she was climbing, and but I wouldn’t take such presumptuous manner on this ship, committed by a high-class person and a girl. I ordered her to take her rags off and change back into her dress, giving her one more chance. Instead, she ignored me. I roared at her face to do it immediately. And still she refused. So I asked the crew. No response. By then, I knew Ms. Doyle was out of my control, but I thought I still had one last card to play. First, I checked Mr. Hollybrass was there, which he confirmed. Then, I played the card by reminding Ms. Doyle about her father. Instead, she replied back that she could tell her father the true version of events of what happened on this ship. I knew I had lost by then. I gave her one more chance, and when she left it, I left fuming, telling Mr. Hollybrass to change the names. How dare she embarrass me in front of the crew! By the time I had reached my cabin, I had been nearly burning in shame. Acting like a desperate man in front of her crew! Ms. Doyle will pay for this. I have had her doing the hardest jobs, working harder than anyone, but thanks to her ‘teachers’. Yet I can not stop that, because that could be used against me for unfairness and forcing a passenger to work as a crew worker. Instead, I have started to watch her every time she works, to make sure if she doesn’t make a mistake. If she does, I shall use that as proof that she is an unworthy sailor and force her out of the crew. I must go now, for it is Ms. Doyle’s watch. Or shall I call her Mr. Doyle? Anyway, I shall do my best to watch her closely as possible!

Twentieth/twenty first/twenty second day

The first two days have been uneventful, but today I have managed to find a grave error in Ms. Doyle’s part! I sent her to fix the flying jib, which had been entangled on the bowsprit. There, seeing this, I recognized my chance and sent her to fix it, knowing it would be hard. The sea was wild because of the coming hurricane, and probably still is. Anyway, Grimes tried to replace her, but of course, I refused and rebuked him. How dare he interfere with my own words! So she was given some instructions and a knife by Grimes instead. She managed to do her work, but at the last moment, coming back aboard, she slipped and nearly fell into the water, barely holding onto the bowsprit. I was watching her dunk herself a couple times, but after a few times she managed to climb back up and was clinging onto it. I knew that I needed to do something even if I liked it or not, so I told the person at the wheel to turn around. Finally, after a while, when we had reached calmer seas, she managed to craw back to the deck. By that time, I was furious. This was a grave mistake, for we had lost precious time for our voyage! Even if she made a mistake, it shouldn’t hinder travel. Of course, I chastened her, but instead she called me names and told me she would bring me to court to have justice served. By that sentence, I was speechless. I forced myself to my cabin, and here I am now. I really need a way to get rid of that girl, or she will be my downfall. She must not be let off the ship! I need to have a way to kill her so she can keep the truth to herself! The sailors aren’t a problem, because I can just force them to stay on board, but now…what do I do!!

Twenty third day (in book says forty-fifth day)

Now I sit here, writing in this ruined cabin. This isn’t the proper ink I use, for everything else is smashed, broken, shattered, and destroyed in every way. I managed to get most replacements, though I am still trying to get more chess pieces to match on both sides. Right now I still need the same shapes for the pawn pieces and some other ones, but anyway, today there was a huge storm, thanks to the hurricane, but if I’m not mistaken, right now it is clearing, for my window shows weak sunlight between the clouds. “Twas was a rough night”, the phrase from Macbeth by Shakespeare comes into my mind. However, it seems ironic because many valuable things happened to me as well. So I shall start from the beginning. I woke up this morning to find my cabin half ruined, although not in the exact state after the whole storm had passed. Most things were still shaken up but intact, but it was still obvious something was wrong. I hurled myself to the door to find a roaring storm and an accompanying, furious downpour. I was immediately soaked, but the time to worry about clothes and hair was later. I roared out the order for all the crew, then a couple more times, then turned around – only to find Mr. Hollybrass gripping a rope, drenched to the skin but still alive. He demanded that we should turn to ship back, but what sort of idiot would have such idea!? Instead I had ordered him to keep the ship straight, but instead he shouted back that we would all die and drown to the bottom of this sea. By then, I was fuming, and had screamed back that we would still be going through. By then, I had turned away to address the scattered crew, or wherever they had been at that time, to climb up and fix the sails, for they were now out of control under the brutal wind. However, when no one came, I had to holler again. By then I was freezing, and my voice seemed to barely become a squeak. However, when no one came, I had been forced to go to the forward past and had tried to keep all the ropes down at the same time, but they kept whipping or slipping out of my grasp as the wind tore them from my hands or the icy water made it impossible to get a proper grip! By then I had nearly given up, but I heard a voice behind me, which to my surprise, had been Ms. Doyle’s. She quickly climbed up the rigging with my knife and instructions, and I had to admit at that time, I thought her gumption was pretty strong. But there was no time for admiration. But, surprise! To my astonishment, I saw Mr. Zachariah emerging from the central hatch and climbing up the other mast as well, with his own knife! He was alive! Even now I am still surprised, but that means the crew obviously knew! I suspect Ms. Doyle is involved in this matter…then I had started wondering if only if everyone against me could die, Mr. Hollybrass, who disagreed and shouted against me, Ms. Doyle, who could report me to the courts for my actions, Zachariah, or maybe a ghost from ‘Davy Jones’ Locker’ (sailor term for ‘bottom of the sea’)… at that time I suddenly had a great idea! One solution for a problem could be another for another problem! Working my way to Ms. Doyle’s old cabin for under the deck, the ship had flooded, I plucked the knife from under the bed, the one she told me that she had gotten from her…that person who brought her to this ship, called Mr. Grummage. Then, I had took Ms. Doyle’s old handkerchief, which was stuck on the side of the doorway, and quickly made my way back up the ladder to the deck. I remember reminding myself to tell the crew to use the pumps to drain the water. Anyway, when I had came out to the deck I could barely see five feet in front of me because of the thunderous and dense rain, but I had caught a glimpse of Mr. Hollybrass giving out instructions to some member of the crew near the forecastle entry. Even as I inched toward him, he turned around to try going up to the forecastle deck, with his back facing me. Perfect! By then, I had gotten close enough to stab him in the back, right where I knew where his heart was. I had quickly stabbed him, then silenced his mouth with the handkerchief. I recall started at him and sneered as he tried to gasp and scream at the same time while spitting out water. Watching him carefully, of course, I had him grip the handkerchief in his hands after taking it out of his mouth, which was pointless because probably no sound could be heard anyway. Anyway, after Hollybrass had fallen limp in my hands, I had shoved him in between the drenched sails nearby, where they had fallen while the crew cut them from above. Then I took up the post of ordering other crew members who had finished their work and needed another. Finally, when we had reached the eye of the hurricane, and the crew uncovered Hollybrass’ corpse. At that time, I could tell that the crew have all started suspecting Charlotte. But anyway, when we had reached the edge of the eye, the storm started again, and I have kept the crew busy by switching their roles every three hours on the pumps and the wheel. So, finally, after what felt like years, we managed to escape the hurricane’s terrible grasp, and I have sent everyone to rest, with orders to let Ms. Doyle sleep in so she can be fully rested for tomorrow for her trial. And here I am, writing this now. Whew, I can barely keep my eyes open. Better rest up for tomorrow.

Twenty-fourth day

This morning, I have had Ms. Doyle sent to the brig to await her trial after a talk with the whole crew. She is in a bad position, but she will not win this match either way. I will win! There is no way she can win at the moment! Even if I was slanderous and spread a rumor to the crew that Ms. Doyle would say her knife was in her old cabin. It still is true though, but it doesn’t matter. I will do whatever it takes to kill her! Mr. Hollybrass’ death shall not go into waste!

I will write more soon, for now I must start the trial that will surely determine Ms. Doyle’s death.

Blog Writing Summative #2 – Mutiny has no place on a proper ship

Fourth day:
Today wasn't a very nice day for good weather. The clouds kept covering the sun in the morning, and at times a dark shadow would cover us. I had a great idea, and I used this as a smart excuse to put on a circus with the dirty cows for Ms. Doyle, just to show who was boss and to impress her. Keeping my laughter to myself, I order and watch the sailors grunt with tiredness and sweating uncontrollably, getting slower by the second. Maybe I could keep doing this, and easily Ms. Doyle would admire and trust me more, seeing how I order everyone and thing on this ship. Something I could easily do everyday,  yet for now Ms. Doyle could hardy seem to keep her delight from her sodden and disgraceful appearance. Her clothes are...well, disgusting and sickly looking, and her hair just seems to have caught every single piece of sand and dust in the sea from England to America. I shall tell her to have a wash later. She is an honorable passenger, not a piece of dirty trash. Then I catch the dog called Fisk, along with some dirty others, who were working on splicing the ropes, casting hateful glances at me. While Ms. Doyle is starstruck, I jeer at them, meaning this fight of their doing wasn't over. This should keep them too tired to do anything more at the moment. But they will not win. They are fighting a losing battle, whatever they are trying to do. By then, I had noticed Mr. Hollybrass walking near, and call him over, ordering to call Barlow, for Ms. Doyle's trunk somewhere in the hold. When he comes, he looks at me with the same look Fisk and the others gave me. 'Dog's look', I recall deciding to call it. I managed to shrug it off, then I told him to show Ms. Doyle her overlarge trunk of hers, which is probably somewhere under my feet. No need saying we, as the sailors don't even deserve names. I also remember how I had an idea of winning even more of her favor, and risk it in front of the crew. They couldn't do anything with Ms. Doyle there. However, as I kiss her hand, if I recall correctly, I notice Mr. Hollybrass' look is contemptible, as if he is disgusted by the very sight of it. As expected, I guess, for he was with the original crew as well. Like I said, I'm pretty sure they're up to something. Right there I could feel their hard looks, and I can still feel the heavy silence of the sailors, and their hard gazes at my back. I must be ready when the time comes. I will make sure my key to the cabinet with my guns are intact before I sleep.

Fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh days
I have been very busy for the past seven days, but luckily, there is nothing of importance to report here. Ms. Doyle is fine as well. However, while she is very friendly to me as I am to her, she is getting friendlier with Zachariah as well, and Mr. Keetch tells me they spend some time with each other in the galley or some other dirty place on this ship. I am throughly dismayed, and I have tried to make Mr. Keeth interrupt these small meetings whenever they are alone, but no avail, and they have formed a small companionship with each other, although she still seems uncomfortable around the rest of the crew. But wait, I could use it as a good advantage, for if she gets more familiar with the crew, she could find deeper secrets that the crew might keep from me, like a round robin or some other piece of proof that they would rebel against me. What a wonderful thought! I shall tell Mr. Keetch to lay off them, for they shall not be any more interruptions for their meetings. But maybe tomorrow, for it is late. One more fact to note though, Ms. Doyle has saved a dress for her landing in Providence. She is very clean, and apparently whats to honor her family. She is a very smart girl. Hopefully she will use her smarts aboard this ship.

Twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth days
The twelfth was Sunday, and the whole ship's company had a short religious session. Those dogs weren't listening that much, instead choosing to glare at me most of the time, especially when I prayed a supplication for a good journey, as if they were promising denial. Not that I care, because they wouldn't try a mutiny with Ms. Doyle on board, would they?.  Then at around noon I invited Ms. Doyle in for some conversation and tea for an hour, and although whatever she said was extremely dull, I kept my interest up in case she said anything about the crew so I could use it as proof to storm the forecastle for confiscations. No information yet though, though they wouldn't dare to anyway. A good thing is that I see her and the crew getting closer. I don't have a choice in this matter, for she can only find information this way. She is a brave girl. Not many with her gender wouldn't even bother trying to see them on the ship, treating them like the filth they really are. Filth with brains the size of a cockroach.
But there was an unbearable act today as well. Mr. Keetch Zachariah, the cook, presented Ms. Doyle with some handmade sailors' clothing for her. I was horrified when he told me this, and immediately rushed to her cabin, and in horror, watched her undress to her undergarments and try them on through the small hole I had Mr. Keetch install in the wall in case there was some need to spy on her. She actually looked surprised in a glad way, but thankfully, she looked shocked immediately after and threw them off, her face mirroring the same horror as mine a few minutes before. Then, she sat down after shoving then away, she sat down and started to write something. A journal perhaps? By then I had calmed down enough not to go storming in, and quietly crept to my cabin, and there I waited for about two hours studying some charts, waiting for our daily tea session. After that time, when Ms. Doyle came for tea, she revealed what she had been writing; about proper behavior for young women. Probably as atonement for her misdeed, and I praised her well, though she obviously didn't mention this. Not many people can stoop that low and come back up easily, especially young girls in high class society.
Later on, I had asked Ms. Doyle in front of the crew of how lazy and dirty they were, and although she agreed, she seemed uncomfortable about it. She really did feel comfortable with the crew. Too much. If she only knew her true mission. Hopefully she learns more responsibility for herself and the situation on board.
Also, a big problem arose; there was no more wind. I had had the jolly boats searching all directions, but no avail. By then, I realized I had another source of wind and made the crew work harder so we could use the time without the wind. However, Ms. Doyle afterwards told me about how the crew cursed their work and me, and made up an excuse that they are tired. How can she possibly know? That stupid girl. Right there I lost some patience and told her they would wake up if a storm came. But she still seemed to disagree. Now she is siding with the crew! I will keep a closer eye on her.

Fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth days
Nothing out of order, although the crew is spending more time sleeping than working. Those lazy curs. They seem distracted, their energy instead focused on glaring at me. I wonder how long they could keep it up. Increasingly. I've seen some of them talking instead of working on the ratlines. Those gossipers think they are women with all the time of their life to talk. Also, there isn't any wind, and I swear that this ship is not moving at all. This is all the sailors fault. Next time we need rowers for such incidents. We should be moving at least, not going backwards, staying still, or drifting off course! The government should realize that. Goodness!

Eighteenth day
My, today was quite an eventful day! Finally the crew's mutiny was launched, though only for less than a few minutes (shame, I could have terrorized them more), along with some surprises. Where shall I start...well, it first began when I was in my cabin talking with Mr. Hollybrass about how our ship was so off course when Ms. Doyle knocked and came in. She looked absolutely terrified, and I immediately knew something very bad had happened. She told me a story of how she was on an errand for one of the sailors, Mr. Ewing, and went to the forecastle, but instead found a gun in his chest, and a round robin as well. Right there it gave me a small shock, but not enough to surprise me, only anger me, if I can name the emotions correctly.  After that, I stormed on the deck, roaring out the order that would get the whole crew on deck, pretending to overreact after Ms. Doyle tells me about the round robin.  But I was still pretty angry at the fact that they would actually try a mutiny. Mutiny has no place on a proper ship. Who told them to do whatever they wanted? At that moment, I was totally out of control. With Mr. Hollybrass and Ms. Doyle with my two personal muskets in hand, I stood my ground as the crew charged out of the forecastle with their own weapons, but even they stopped in surprise at the sight of me with my musket pointing at their heads. When I saw Mr. Cranick with them as well, I would have shot him straightaway right there, but the sight of the round robin stopped me, though only for some talk. As I shot, I thought I could trust Ms. Doyle, but I was wrong. But anyway, when I did, the crew panicked like the little crybabies they are, and their weapons were taken from them. But still, I was angry, and demanded that the body of Mr. Cranick to be thrown overboard, and I still don't regret it. He was a man that should be shunned by all classes. People who do not follow higher people's orders are dumb beasts who should not have a place in this world. But that proved that Zachariah was not loyal to me, but Cranick instead, when I told him to open the gate so he could be discarded and he didn't oblige. Neither would Ms. Doyle, what indignation. But I know now not to except much from her anymore. Finally, as punishment, I chose Zachariah because he is black, which is a insult to the rest of our clean and white skin, because he is the oldest, for old people are less strong and agile, and a ship needs light and big-muscled sailors. Also, he is sort of their leader, and the crew listens to him, so it would instill fear in their devilish hearts, and as a cook, they would get more awful amounts and quality of food, while I get the best in my cabin. And, he disobeyed a direct order right there, so he shall be punished severly. I did offer Ms. Doyle a choice, and she refused in her own girlish way, by crying, but punishments are punishments. Someone had to take the blame. Even now, I feel no remorse for Zachariah, either dead or not. He was part of the crew, who planned this with Cranick. Like I said, someone had to take the blame.
Anyway, as soon as I proclaimed this, the other crew members stepped away. What cowards, leaving their leader to his death. I stared and taunted him, pretty sure he was terrified. Instead, he seemed ready to die. He spoke his last words, but I hated speeches. He said he forgave everyone, but who needs forgiveness? Only dumb cowards. The whole crew would not rise in defense either. The hunter become the hunted seems almost obvious here, with the crew organizing this mutiny and failing miserably. Thanks to me and the cowardly girl. I had ordered Mr. Hollybrass to tie Zachariah up, then had to force Ms. Doyle to stay, as she tried to escape the scene. Another coward, but I needed her as a witness as the punishment of the crew. Finally, I ordered 50 lashes. That should have been enough to kill him. One short on the crew is still enough, then the crew can work more. That shall be their individual punishment. I also recall Ms. Doyle calling to me, trying to plead for his life. She started making excuses and lies about all she did, and fairness. What good is fairness on this accursed crew? But then, suddenly, she knocked Mr. Hollybrass down. She was stronger then I had thought, and now I know I must not underestimate her. I tried to charge her and tried to take the whip back, but instead, she whips me. That blasted girl! It still hurts, as that whip was specially made to inflict humongous pain. No matter how many times I had washed it, it hadn't stopped bleeding for about two hours, which wasn't long ago. Anyway, by then I had just lost every thought. I tore the whip from her and started whipping Zachariah, ignoring the cries of pain and horror from the crew, Ms. Doyle, and Zachariah. They were all cowards and traitors!!
Finally, I stopped, and Zachariah was close to death anyone could possibly get. I didn't care. I stormed into my cabin and fumed, cursing the ship. I don't remember anything afterwards, except when Ms. Doyle tried to come in, with her act of her tear-stricken face. But I was past caring. I shouted at her, insulted her, hoping to transfer all my hatred into her, make her feel some pain. Then I kicked her out and bolted the door, and in anger bashed the floor hard, but only ended up with more pained, pale hands. Curse that Doyle girl!
After an hour or so, I think, I managed to compose myself enough to address the crew. I had already decided what goes where. Because of Zachariah's absence, Mr. Fisk became cook, and I have had Mr. Keetch removed from his position and Mr. Johnson instead as second mate, for he didn't sign the round robin. Also, if I recall correctly, he never glared at me, always respected me and other high class people, and supported me while the others failed to do so. He certainly deserves this position. After I called more orders, mainly intended more work and torture to the crew as promised, I retired back to my cabin, where I'm writing this right now. I've had enough, because writing this is making me angrier. Tomorrow I will write more.