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Schmidt's Island: Part 1

Mike Schmidt enjoyed the calmness of the morning seas. He loved the way the waves lapped up against the helm of the Red Fox just enough to make it gently rock back and forth, but not so hard as to make him seasick. Standing up on the ship's bow he could feel the sea breeze ever so tenderly blowing against his face, and he could smell the pungent but intoxicating scent of salt water as the ship carved through the sea.

Inhaling deeply with a smile on his face, Schmidt pulled his trusty telescope out once again and raised it up to his eye. Even with his range enhanced by the tool, only endless water met his gaze, just as it had for the past month. He sighed dejectedly; the captain had said not three days ago that they'd be spotting the Bleeding Isle any time now, and yet still no such place could be found. For what was far from the first time, Schmidt pondered if the captain had been drunk at the time.

Of course, the captain was rarely drunk unless they were celebrating in port – he had to focus whilst at sea, after all – but it was sometimes hard to tell with him.

Dispelling such thoughts from his mind, Schmidt moved the telescope back and forth one final time, praying to the gods of the sea that his faith in the captain was not misplaced.

And then, just off the starboard side... he saw it.

He couldn't believe it at first. Surely it had to be a trick, a mirage brought on by weeks of isolation on a ship! But as he continued to look through the telescope, the island did not disappear. It slowly became larger – not much larger, but enough for the sailor to realize that they were indeed getting closer.

And it was joyous.

“That's it...” Schmidt whispered in awe, before turning around and shouting to the crew. “Men, get a message to the captain. Land ho!” He thrusted the telescope into the air.

“LAND HO!” The response boomed unanimously from the faceless crew as they hurried to work; adjusting the sails, running to spread the news, and most importantly, rushing to the captain's quarters. It warmed Schmidt's heart to see the crew excited like this. It was rare that news came in about a big haul, let alone one as big as this one. Rumor had it that the treasure hidden within the Bleeding Isle could set an entire crew up for life. But even if the rumors weren't true the idea of adventure was more than enough for the Red Fox, and the captain wasted no time in shipping out.

To say it'd been a hard journey would be a vast understatement. A month's travel either way wasn't exactly something just any ship could be ready for, and on top of that the intrepid buccaneers had faced countless perils along the way. Storms that threw up walls of water a hundred feet high. Bloodthirsty rival pirate ships intent on quite literally cutting out some of the competition. Even a vicious kraken that took seven fine men before every hand on the ship united to take it down.

Those sacrifices would never be forgotten, but soon it would all be over. With the Bleeding Isle in sight at last and no other pirate ships to be seen, there would be nothing but smooth sailing to the treasure, and with it a life of wealth.

Schmidt was snapped out of his reverie by the slinging of a hooked arm, garbed in deep blue hues, around his shoulder. “I told ye th' Bleedin' Isle wasn't far, aye?” A deep voice chuckled. Schmidt nodded and turned to the voice's owner, a fox sharply dressed in pirate attire – vest, hat, and eyepatch, the whole package.

But this was no ordinary pirate fox, no. This was Captain Foxy, the man without fear who'd made this entire trek a reality. Schmidt loved the captain with all his heart, and had done so ever since the captain had discovered him back when he was an orphan, living on the streets and pinching whatever he could to get by. He'd made the deadly mistake of trying to steal from the fox in a crowded pub, but Foxy wasn't fooled for a moment. The captain had grabbed Schmidt by the sleeve and dragged him outside into the cold night. At the time, Schmidt was certain that he'd die.

But Foxy had been impressed by the young man's bravado, trying to pickpocket a pirate. And so the pirate gave the boy a home aboard his proud ship. Now, at the time the young Schmidt only thought of pirates as savages and beasts who raped, pillaged and plundered without abandon or empathy. While he knew now that there were plenty of pirates like that, he also knew that there were plenty of exceptions to the rule and Foxy, thank God, was an exception. The vulpine treated every member of his crew like a family member, and they loved him unconditionally in return. Schmidt was no different – he'd started out a mere swabbie and errand boy, but the years went by and under Foxy's eye he grew stronger, wiser and craftier. A model pirate, in other words.

Then one day, the captain had pulled him into his own private quarters with a proposition; he wanted Schmidt to become his new first mate. Overwhelmed with gratitude at his captain's generosity, Schmidt had no choice but to accept, and ever since that day the two had sailed around the globe standing together at the Red Fox's bowsprit. Before long he'd become known as “Iron Heart” Schmidt, inseparable ally and friend to the great Captain Foxy, and ever since he'd borne that title with pride.

Now, as the two companions stood side-by-side at the bow of the Red Fox, watching the Bleeding Isle draw closer by the minute, Schmidt turned to his captain and spoke. “It's almost time, captain.”

The captain looked Schmidt right back in the eye and replied. “Ah, but Mr. Schmidt, me hearty, 'tis always time... for ADVENTURE!”

And Schmidt had no doubts that he would be right once again.