Captain Rex squinted against the salty sea breeze as he stood on the rocky shore, his tattered coat flapping in the wind. Beside him, his pet parrot, Flap, ruffled his bright green feathers.
“Squawk! We need a boat, Cap’n! A fine ship for the high seas!”
“Aye, Flap,” Captain Rex agreed, stroking his scruffy beard. “But not just any boat. We need one fast enough to outrun trouble, and strong enough to handle a storm.”
The two crept along the harbour, hiding behind barrels and crates, until they spotted a mighty galleon at the dock.
The galleon was a beast of a ship, towering over the water like a floating fortress. Its three decks, wide wooden platforms stacked one above the other, bristled with heavy cannons. Its tall masts, the upright poles holding the sails, stretched toward the sky. This ship could crush any enemy that dared cross its path! But Rex’s grin faded as he watched dozens of armed sailors guarding it.
“Squawk! Too big, too many men! We’d be caught in a blink!” Flap cawed.
“Aye, we need something easier to steal,” Rex muttered.
They crept further along the dock and found a rowboat tied to a wooden post. It was small, just big enough for two people, with a pair of wooden oars resting inside.
Flap flapped his wings in disappointment. “Squawk! Too small! We’d be fish food in a storm!”
Captain Rex sighed. “Aye, this won’t do. We need something just right.”
Then, further down the dock, he spotted it: a brig.
The brig was sleek and sturdy, with two masts standing tall and strong to hold the sails. It wasn’t as big as a galleon, but it was fast and easy to handle with a small crew. The sails were square-rigged, meaning they were arranged in large squares to catch the wind and power the ship forward. Its name, painted in bold letters on the side, read The Stormchaser.
“This is the one,” Rex whispered, his eyes gleaming.
“Squawk! Guards at the gangplank!” Flap warned.
Two sleepy-looking guards stood watch at the gangplank, a narrow wooden board that connected the ship to the dock, letting people walk on and off. Captain Rex grinned. He had a trick or two up his sleeve.
He picked up a heavy sack from a nearby cart and staggered toward the guards, pretending to be a humble dockworker. “Evenin’, mates,” he said in a rough voice. “Fresh supplies for the Stormchaser, orders from the captain!”
The first guard yawned. “Captain didn’t say nothin’ about supplies.”
“Bah! You want to wake him up and ask?” Rex scoffed. “He’ll have your hide if breakfast ain’t ready!”
The second guard gulped. “Uhh, no need for that. Go on, then.”
Rex nodded and heaved the sack past them, right onto the deck of the Stormchaser. The deck, the flat wooden floor of the ship, was sturdy under his boots. The moment he was out of sight, he tossed the sack overboard and waved to Flap.
“Squawk! Time to go!”
Captain Rex rushed to the wheel, the large wooden steering wheel used to turn the ship, and untied the mooring ropes that kept the ship tied to the dock as fast as he could. The brig began to drift from the dock. The guards turned just in time to see the sails unfurl.
“Hey! That’s not the supply boy, that’s a pirate!”
“Too late, mates!” Rex laughed as he spun the wheel, guiding the Stormchaser toward the open sea.
The brig caught the wind and surged forward, leaving the guards shouting helplessly on the dock.
As the harbour faded behind them, Flap landed on Rex’s shoulder.
“Squawk! We got ourselves a ship, Cap’n!”
“Aye, Flap,” Rex grinned, staring out at the endless ocean. “Now, let’s find us an adventure!”
And with that, the Stormchaser sailed into the moonlit night, ready for whatever lay ahead.