Calypso Jones Versus The Cannibals of Bora Bora and Other South Sea Tales

By Cal pflugrath

Living most of my life in port city Long Beach I am familiar with dingy bars featuring sailor sagas divulged by old salts over some pitchers of brew. A common sea shanty is 'what do you do with a drunken sailor?
Some rare shanty lament and local favorite that caught my ear was 'Calypso Jones'. Guaranteed to bring some tear to your eye, here is that sad adventure's epic allegory.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781304266507

Book preview

Historical fiction by Cal Pflugrath

Author’s note

Living most of my life in port city Long Beach I am familiar with dingy bars featuring sailor sagas divulged by old salts over some pitchers of brew. A common sea shanty is ‘what do you do with a drunken sailor?’

Some rare shanty lament and local favorite that caught my ear was ‘Calypso Jones’. Guaranteed to bring some tear to your eye, here is that sad adventures’ epic allegory.

PART ONE the inheritance

Chapter one    girl trouble

I was already having a bad day when Teeka ran up. The British magistrate wants to see you pronto, she panted. Why are you limping? Geez! What happened to your leg!?

It’s nothing. I nicked some coral swimming out of a shark’s grasp.

Where’s your skirt?"

I believe that shark got it.

Teeka untied a yellow cloth strip binding her waist length black ponytail knelt down and bandaged my left thigh. That’s a good gash, Cal. You may need some stiches at the doc’s office.

Please no. I’d rather lose the leg than get fondled up by that old pervert.

We both laughed.

Wound staunched I limped beside my fourteen-year-old friend. What’s up with your boss that Limey administrator?

Teeka shook her head. An English frigate in the harbor dropped off some mail. Then Judge Mathis sent me for you.

Glancing at my dark furry privates she added, you know how the magistrate feels about nudity.

I’m getting tired of what the judge wants. It’s hot. I refuse to make myself uncomfortable for some long-nosed-round-eyed white man’s version of decency.

Teeka sighed. Okay, Princess. Don’t blame me if Mathis spanks your hams red.

I smirked, That’s better than the turtle thigh tattoo you are considering. At least my buns shall someday revert to their natural medium brown.

Go ahead and laugh, she joked back. You will soon be the only Tahitian without body art.

You know me, Teeka. I always enjoy sticking out in the crowd.

Judge Markus Mathis glared down at me from his courtroom platform. I gulped. Wearing nothing other than Teeka’s bloody left thigh bandage I reconsidered my earlier rash outfit decision.

‘I should have gone back home for a loincloth,’ my mind mused.

A well-proportioned fourteen-year-old teenager many men looked at me and smiled. Was it my tiny waist, the hip sway as I walked by, that flounce of large brown breasts or a combination?

I drove males crazy. Half English half Polynesian my form and countenance were highly desired.

Markus gave a deep sigh followed by some groan. Also human he was not immune to my visual charms.

Haven’t we discussed your nakedness before, Miss Jones? he steamed.  "I expect you properly robed before my court, young lady.

For five years I have instructed your class in English and etiquette. Conduct yourself appropriately.

Forgive me, lord. I came freshly from the sea. My hope was promptly responding to your request delivered by my friend.

Markus turned an evil sneer at Teeka and pronounced, ten lashes, bailiff. Take her to the square, strip her tied to the whipping post, and carry out the sentence.

But your honor! Teeka wailed, I’ve followed your orders!

Twenty lashes. See to it, Bailiff.

Teeka whined and shook her head but we both knew it was no use. In the bailiffs’ firm grip she whimpered marching out to her punishment for my gaff.

I faced the judge. You won’t, will you?

Markus smiled. "She’ll get stripped and hung for a bit. Village boys may mock and fondle but then I’ll let your impish friend scamper off uninjured.

Thanks. What’s this all about?

Your leg. The King expects me to look after you.

A scratch. Mother Ocean’s magic shall seal and heal me. Why am I here?

"There is some news from Great Britain concerning the Jones family.

According to the latest fleet dispatch your father’s frigate, HMS Dauntless was lost with all hands, off Pago Pago."

What happened? I gasped.

"They were overwhelmed by some terrible storm. Upon hearing news of that disaster your grandmother, Countess Beatrice of Westhampton suddenly passed away.

Unlikely as it seems that makes you the new Countess of Westhampton.  Congratulations, Countess Calypso.

News of my father was rare. Visits even rarer. Mom died bringing me into this world. With Dauntless Pago Pago demise I officially became an orphan and countess simultaneously.

My bad day just got worse.

I loved dad. If not for British regulations we would have sailed together on his fighting ship.

His twice-yearly-two-week visits were the highlight of my memories. Now Captain John Jones appeared to be gone.

I looked down, gulped, and fought back tears.

Is that all? I murmured.

Judge Mathis looked at me in an odd way. "You don’t understand. As British Magistrate of Tahiti I am ordered to put you on frigate HMS Bristol out in the harbor. She’s London bound.

As of now you belong to the Royal Crown and English aristocracy. In Westhampton Palace you shall assume your role of Countess.

No thanks, I insisted. This daughter of the First People belongs here beside her grandfather, the King."

Markus frowned. You’re walking down to that frigate getting on board and sailing for England, Miss. These orders constitute a royal decree.

I’m barely fourteen years old. You cannot force me to do this against my will.

Judge Mathis sneered. I can and shall.

My mind sensed this coming and planned that next move accordingly. Sticking out my tongue I took five fast strides towards the open courthouse window.

Vaulting through and tucking in the air bare feet landed on that steaming hot cobblestone street just outside.

Now it was a sprint to the jungle. With some good quarter mile head start I easily lost those shouting, pursuing sailors.

That evening Teeka met me with dinner at a local cave entrance.

Your Grandfather’s furious, she exclaimed. He’s called for some council of island kings to settle things.

Savoring my meal I said, Grandpa shouldn’t blow this out of proportion. I’ll disappear into Tahitian mountains. These English have short memories.

Teeka grinned and suggested, have you thought about being a European princess?

Shaking my head I corrected, Countess, of someplace called West something or other. I’m not going there and these silly, pompous British can’t make me.

Why don’t you hide at your grandfather’s?

"I’d rather not endanger him or the other kingdoms. Living in the wild among Old Ones is more to my liking.

I need time to get over that bad dad news, just cannot believe he is gone. My mind misses him so.

Still, she insisted, changing my left thigh bandage, you would be British royalty, treated as such. You might even marry a European king.

I eyed Teeka coyly and suggested, perhaps we should change places?

Perhaps, she diminutively murmured."

In the meantime, I requested, please provide for me.

Teeka bowed. Yes, Princess.

The next few weeks crawled by. HMS Bristol bobbed out in the harbor waiting for my capture. I dashed from mountain range to deep tropical valley avoiding persistent pursuers.

These English were good but they couldn’t match a Poly girl’s sense of local terrain. My big ace in the hole remained that knowledge of vast underground caverns.

Covering miles of distance these passages linked one side of Tahiti to the other. In chambers fashioned by amazing ancestors I rested, waiting for Teeka’s next meal delivery.

That night grandpa showed up instead. After a hug we shared our dinner and talked.

Sitting in one of the tunnels main galleries, a slight breeze floated across my cheek. Sea scent wafted through this vast cavern.

You look well, Calypso, Grandpa began. Now we must speak of your future.

Finishing some tasty fish I suggested, "I am a citizen of the sea, Grandfather, and shall remain such, Sir.

These British miss my heart and soul. One such as me could never fit within their scheme of things.

Grandpa smiled. Part of you is English.

But my love remains here among those people of the Old Ones.

He nodded. Then we must consider a replacement. Give it some thought, Cal.

I nodded. It is good to see you again. We hugged tight and grandpa was off. Eluding English patrols he would be moving over ten miles to cover his tracks this night.

I descended further into the caverns. These were those places featuring ancient, polished rock floors and strange formations more metal than stone.

There occurred a natural heat here comforting and welcoming. I curled up on the floor and slept in my distant ancestor’s warm embrace.

Chapter two  piglets in peril

Teeka showed up at our predetermined rendezvous the next night.

British authorities are hot to catch you, she reported. "Judge Mathis upped that reward to a thousand pounds.

"A second warship anchored in the harbor yesterday.  Her crew searches jungle ridges in random fashion.

French sailors are also beating the bushes. Everyone is excited about that reward money.

They’ll never find me down here.

Don’t count on it. For that much cash some greedy local is going to talk. There’s also reports concerning head hunting cannibals lurking about. This isn’t a good time for you to be roaming on your own.

I can take care of myself.

Teeka nodded. Sailors followed me out of town this evening. I lost them in the trees, but it is only a matter of time before our luck runs out.

Enjoying a pork rib I considered new developments. The last thing desirable would be Teeka hurt or worse.

I never thought this might get out of hand. Now additional complications required a response.

Looking at my friend I insisted, leave and don’t come back. The jungle and sea shall feed me."

Teeka shook her head. "Don’t be silly. Hunting and fishing exposes you to additional danger.

I’ll meet you tomorrow night at the appointed site.

Walking my friend to the tunnel entrance something felt wrong. The evening jungle sounded too quiet.

Teeka, I whispered.

She nodded. I sense it too. Somebody’s here.

That’s when I felt a slight sting in my neck. Reaching up fingers discovered that dart sticking there as my vision blurred and went dark.

Teeka and I woke together groggy in the bottom of a dugout canoe. We were hogtied naked, ankles and wrists bound behind our backs.

Some half dozen young men paddled our craft in darkness.

‘Cannibals,’ I considered. ‘It couldn’t have been sailors. How unlucky is this?’

Teeka stirred. Are you okay? she moaned. A frowning man kicked her ribs. No talking, pigs, he insisted. "Naughty troublesome livestock gets cooked sooner rather than