Port of Errors by Steve V Cypert

enough and challenged Fischer with a drawn sword. “No good Irish, am I? You filthy English pig!”
    Fischer stood his ground drawing out his own cutlass. “You dare challenge me ? Well then, you really are a fool, aren’t you?”
    “If it wasn’t for you,” assumed Darby, “I’d be Captain now!”
    “Captain Garrison!” interrupted Black-Hearted. “Here be yur first test o’ captainship. What say you ‘bout this here dispute? The articles state that any dispute is to be settled in a manner befitting the dispute and the captain is to choose the manner in which it be settled. What say you ‘bout these two fools?”
    After only a moment Captain Garrison made his first decision as Captain. “We’ll lay anchor at Widow’s Reef on our way to Port of Errors. The dispute will be settled there.”
    Amid the outburst of favorable cheers, Gunner stated, “Aye, you’ll make a fine captain, indeed, Captain Garrison.”
    Widow’s Reef was a broad mass of coral and rock, as flat as the sea and located where no other land was in sight. This reef could only be seen by the lookout in the crow’s nest. The reef was completely covered by the sea, rolling water over the jagged surface in swells as the sun beat relentlessly upon it.
    Three hundred yards out from Widow’s Reef, the two ships dropped anchor. Darby and Fischer were taken by longboat to the far side of the reef and forced out at separate ends. Preparing each man with a small dagger, they were forced onto the reef without shoes.
    Gunner offered a brief explanation. “The first man to reach the main deck of the Rogue will be allowed to rejoin their crew. The other will suffer a slow death on the reef, with no shelter, food, or fresh water. The surface of the reef is covered with razor sharp coral so watch your step.”
    The longboats returned to their respective ships and upon the sound of a single gunshot, the struggle commenced.
    They both darted toward the ship through ankle-high water, but once the jagged reef tore through the soles of their naked feet they fell to their knees. Now crawling, they each increased their pace, fighting through the pain and bleeding profusely. Reaching the outer point of the reef at the same time, they lunged toward one another, knives at the ready. Falling short, they both slipped to the surface losing both their knives to the sea. They landed just above an old skeleton wedged at the torso in a narrow crack in the reef.
    “You’d better get used to him,” said Fischer. “You’re going to be here for a long time.”
    Darby reached out and picked up the skull. “Not if I can help it,” he replied, slamming the skull into Fischer’s face. Fischer fell back bleeding at the bridge of his nose.
    “You’re a dead man,” shouted Fischer, springing back with a loose femur in hand.
    With a quick smack to his jaw, Darby fell back against the reef. Finding the other femur he blocked a second incoming blow. For the next several minutes they fought with the two femurs as though they were swords. But soon they ditched their efforts and rolled over into the sea to race toward the ship. Swimming side-by-side, they continued to force each other apart.
    Darby fell short and reached out for Fischer, grabbing him from behind and forcing him beneath the surface of the water. They continued on like this until they could hear the cheers and the jeers from the two ships. They both reached the Rogue at the same time.
    There were two long ropes awaiting them at the side of the ship leading to the main deck. As they ascended, Fischer took a wild swing, striking Darby in the face. Darby let go of the rope and fell back down a foot or two. With a second wild swing, Fischer over reached, allowing Darby to catch and twist his arm. With a huge smile Darby threw Fischer to the sea and continued upward.
    As Darby placed both feet on the main deck, Fischer was left to Widow’s Reef where he awaited his own death. He was left with a small loaf of bread, a