Cropped, unkempt hair whipped from side to side in the battering wind. Rough hands gripped the splintered wooden steering wheel. Muscly arms protruded from a ripped denim jacket, straining against the force of the savage waters below. Roberta was a woman at heart but a man at sea. She wore a steely expression and gazed defiantly into the dark horizon, the corners of her thin mouth curling upwards. Bold lines of ink wound up her arms, saturating her body with fierceness. The coloured depiction of wilted roses merged into the cursive names of her children, delicately designed yet harshly portrayed on her weathered skin.

The blue mass beneath The Black Widow rocked violently. Ominous clouds lingered overhead, threatening to break open and reveal their contents at any moment. The heavy clouds hung low over the vessel, gradually growing in density and weight.
Roberta stood firmly at the wheel, her stocky calves helping to steer the captured vessel through the turbulent waters.

Macy was slight and petite. Her thin blonde hair clung to her clammy forehead and her black spectacles kept slipping down her nose, drops of perspiration dripping onto the wooden floor. She sat cradling her head in her arms rocking backwards and forwards, hoping to ease the nausea that had overcome her body. Foreign nautical objects were scattered below the deck, crashing and banging in rhythm with the juddering motion of the ship. Crash. Bang. Crash. Bang. She gazed out of the grimy, circular window, longing to be freed from the claustrophobic confines of captivity and worried about the fate of her dear mother. There had been no forewarning. The menacing shadow of Her Lady’s Majestic had loomed over the island just moments before its crewmembers descended upon the shore.

The Black Widow passed through the final set of treacherous waves and steadied into a rhythmic pattern, gently swaying in the now calm sea breeze. Roberta smirked with delight as she watched her young pirates scurry around the new ship like mice, rearranging the equipment and storing the newfound valuables below deck.

There had been a flurry of excitement as her crew leapt from the ship and formed an army-like assault towards land. Entangled beards and black eye patches were littered among the mob of pirates and heavy swords dangled from their leather belts. Flashes of colourful bandannas cut across the ocean backdrop and long, matted ponytails swished from side to side in the pummeling wind. As they reached the long stretch of sand lining the island they gained another burst of momentum, forming an invincible barricade that bore down upon the small wooden huts.

Macy had looked on in horror as a large band of strangely dressed people overran her home, each with a menacing glint of determination in their eyes. She was perched in a sheltered tree thick with foliage, a safe vantage point from the chaos that was unfolding below. By now they had formed a dense carpet over the beach and were fast approaching her beloved village. Macy could hear the anguished cries of family and friends above the stampede of foreigners. Their calls of desperation pierced the humid air.

Snapping into action, Macy leapt from the winding tree bough just as the skies opened to discard the weight that had been accumulating. She scrambled down the overgrown mountain, her face stinging from the pelting downpour and flicks of mud lining her back. Thoughts raced through her scattered mind. ‘Who were these people? Why were they here? Where was her mother?’

As she reached a clearing at the base of the peak, Macy was startled by a stern whisper. “Macy, over here. We have to hide,” commanded Caspar, firmly pulling her into a nearby bush. Caspar was the village elder, an older man with skin like leather and wispy greying hair. His wise green eyes were wide with astonishment.

At that moment, footsteps echoed throughout the small clearing. They grew steadily closer. Macy and Caspar froze. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped as the thudding sound of footsteps continued to approach them. For a fleeting second they glanced at each other, communicating silently and taking off at the same moment. They dashed through tropical vines and unearthed tree roots and raced under overhanging ferns. Macy’s heart hammered against her ribcage like a nail being hit into a wall. Her bare feet pounded the dense undergrowth. Sharp branches and sticks tore through her cotton shift dress.

Roberta could hardly believe the treasures her crew had stumbled upon. Most of the meek villagers had fled into the mountains but a gallant few remained to protect their homes. The assault had been quick, only lasting half an hour. The daring islanders that remained to fight were easily rounded up and held captive while homes were looted. Thick ropes were shackled around the captors, forcing them into a close huddle and pulled tight by three rugged pirates. The remaining pirates rummaged through the empty huts, snatching anything that could be of possible value to barter on the high seas.

As the last few huts were being robbed, two islanders came charging out of the thick mountain growth at the base of the mountain. They were closely followed by a mob of fuming pirates. Macy screeched in frustration when she reached the captors. “Let them go you evil pirates. Let them go.” She kicked and scratched, struggling against the strong men pinning her down. They pushed her down harder. She fought back with more force.

Roberta had noticed the struggle from the foreshore and marched over to investigate.
She watched Macy aggressively fight against her men and was impressed by a rebellious streak in the young girl. “Lets take her aboard lads, looks like pirate material,” Roberta barked. The rest of the islanders, including Caspar, were left tied up while the group of pirates filed back towards their ship with Macy in tow. As they rounded the curve of the bay, the rain still falling profusely, Roberta glimpsed The Black Widow for the first time. As she got closer to the enormous vessel, it’s sheer beauty and magnificence became more prominent, leaving her speechless. The pelting rain slid off the ship’s black exterior, leaving it clean and smooth and the white sails blew elegantly in the howling wind.

Without a thought Roberta directed her crew to board the impressive vessel that was to become her own. The young girl was stowed away under the deck and valuables from the old ship were retrieved. In no time at all The Black Widow was on its way, winning the battle against the rough coastal weather.

Roberta gently ran her fingers over a delicate china dish, it’s finely rounded edges catching the sun’s glare. The flowery pattern that wove around the rim of the plate reminded Roberta of her mother’s collection of china plates, lost long ago at sea. A wave of nostalgia washed over her body. “Oh mum,” she sighed. “How I wish you were here to see the crew I have trained and the treasures we have found.”

A feeble movement caught the corner of Roberta’s eye, interrupting her foray into the past. The young, determined girl that had fought to defend the village was struggling up the stairs from below deck. She looked up and was startled by the burly captain standing above her. “Come up ‘ere love,” Roberta said, with as much motherly conviction as she could muster. A look of surprise passed over Macy’s frightened face. “Why have you taken me? I want to go home to my mother,” she trembled. Roberta’s hard face softened. “Look love, I want you to be part of my crew. You’ve got a real streak of determination in ya. I’ll look after you.” Macy was taken aback by the offer but paused to consider it for a moment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought. Her mother had always wanted her to leave the island and make a life for herself. She placed her hands on the splintered wooden steering wheel and looked forward at the vast expanse of water before her. “Right, where are we heading?” Macy asked. Now it was Roberta’s turn to look surprised. She placed her right hand on Macy’s and felt the pride welling up inside her. Her mother would be proud.