A smugelrs tale.

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By Rachel Glendenning

   

   

    It was a calm night in the lonely moor surrounding moon fleet village. The water from the sea was lapping the shore, as the rounded moon shone gracefully upon the dunes. That the mild gusts of the summer wind blew unpleasantly around our toasty bodies causing them to feel colder with every blast of air combined with sun dried sand blown at us.  Moon fleet was silent and still and visibly there were only two traces of light coming from the sleeping village, both of which came from candles, but in very different circumstances. One gave light to some of my fellow men and companions, as they walked silently up to the old Mohone vault within the graveyard. To prepare the storage vault for its new contents how ever small tonight’s collection was going to be, but was sure to keep us wealthy enough. But on the other hand, the second candle was called Maskews march. Grace Maskew placed the candle on her windowsill so that she could warn all boats that came to close, in bad weather and when the blanket of darkness covered us, that land was near. The adrenalin pumped through my whole body filling it with fear and excitement. A strange buzz of which I cannot really describe fully, as our boat became adrift and the salty spray splashed off the bow of the boat up on to our anxious faces. We all jumped enthusiastically in to the boat causing it to rock violently and sink a little with all of the extra weight. David block’s face lit up as he grabbed an ore and lowered it in to the water on his father’s orders. He whispered earnestly of how he was so excited as it was his first time, just like a child losing a tooth for the first time.

    The order came from the head of the Ketch to start to row, so with every back breaking stoke we were pulled a little closer to the “mother ship,” as I called it, to collect her gear. The ores rotated very shallowly at first, and then with each stroke became deeper and deeper as the boat left the shore and travelled in to the ocean. A splash, my heart pounded, it was louder than the splash of an ore. I scanned the shoreline, yet I could not see anything, I couldn’t picture what else could make such a noise except hefty sized boat entering the shallow water of the embankment behind a small hill, not visible to sight from such an angle that we were. We all sat as though all of our bodies were paralysed, not been able to move a muscle through fear. We were in the middle, caught half way between the shore and the gigantic ship of which we gained our fortune. All was silent as tiny slits scanned the shoreline from end to end, like looking at a beaming smile that stretched from ear to ear. I couldn’t see anything, but my mind was going mad. I could not see a boat in the water, but my head felt like it was going crazy, what would happen to my daughter and wife if I were to be caught. I would be hanged, why do I deal in such a filthy business. Elzevier spoke wisely, “you should be afraid of what you cannot see, but if you cannot see anything why are you afraid.” This puzzle fused our imagination, the puzzle of which one could not figure yet use to re-build our confidence. So we could take several more splashes of the ore’s beating the water so that the “mother ship” was along side us. These ores were lifted, as the bow was tied to the port bow of the ship, so that the ores could be rapped against the side of the ship alerting the foreigner’s that we were waiting. Seconds passed, before the foreigner’s faces appeared over the top of the ship. They tried to communicate with us, though no one could understand them. We all smiled innocently, and David Blocks face went white, though I could not tell whether it was because he felt ill, or ill with excitement or just because the light from the moon shone upon his pasty face, with skin of his mother, causing it to look white.

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    The foreigners passed the goods down as we grabbed them and loaded them in to the Ketch, making sure that we were not to sink the boat. Barrels of ale, boxes of tobacco and fine silks of which any man could only wish to give to his wife or close female friend were loaded on to our boat. Which felt a lot heavier and it felt as though water would start spilling over the top at any moment, but it did not. So with a final farewell and friendly handshake with the captain, Elzevier and us gave a ...

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