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Rating: I admit I embarked at anchor with some hesitation on the patched-up ship populated by this bunch of gallows birds and treacherous pirates. Also, the fear of bizarre creatures of the deep, which would probably surface from the waters during the perilous navigation, did not bode well.
After traveling the first dozen miles rocked by the vigorous up and down of the sea waves, the galley, firmly steered by the helm of the shabby Captain Vinicio, seems to withstand the waves splendidly: the most impetuous waves break without spite on the hull.
The vile crew, composed of about a dozen shady henchmen, obeys the orders given from the deck without a word: if they didn’t convince you by showing the sharp luminescence of their knife blades, you wouldn’t give them a single vile doubloon. And yet.
The sail through unknown seas proceeds confidently and swiftly whether enveloped in immovable calm or facing the vehemence of stormy waters: flung between (empty) barrels of rum, bearded seals, charming singing mermaids, enormous leviathans, love-struck octopuses, and rolling cannonballs between the foremast and the mainmast.
The Corsair Vinicio sings, plays, and thrashes about for almost three hours, like possessed by King Poseidon: he orders the rabble to do the same without sparing a single drop of sweat; when needed, he growls and yells, so that we, his subordinates, wouldn’t dare think even for a miserable moment, of an impossible mutiny: the yard up there waits eagerly for the rope to tighten around our necks!
The lapping of the waves, whether the softer, more familiar ones or the more swollen, overwhelming ones, would make any hull unmanageable; and despite the brute force of the current crashing mightily against the prow, the wooden vessel persists unscathed, plotting an increasingly sure course and literally splitting the foamy, bold waters below in half.
And we are indeed sweetly lost at sea in this ocean.
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