Harry And The Kraken: Harry the Pirate Captain, #1

By Philip L Hutson

Harry is the legendary pirate captain of the Flying Dragon. He is the strongest, bravest, and hairiest captain. Harry, being a pirate, is always on the hunt for adventure and treasure but never at the expense of his crew or the subjects of his pirating.

A stranger enters the pub where Harry and his crew are celebrating and tells them he lost his whole crew in a heroic battle against a Kraken. Harry doesn't hesitate to go avenge the crew and remove the threat to ships.

Harry must find the skill to vanquish the Kraken, or they could lose their lives and his unshakeable belief in himself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Philip L Hutson
• Release date: Oct 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224108978

Book preview

1

A STRANGER IN THE PUB

Harry’s Portrait

A long time ago, there was a mighty pirate captain named Harry. Harry was a truly legendary captain. He was strong and courageous, and true to his name, Harry was very hairy. He had hair from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. Harry was so hairy that people thought he was always wearing sweaters, but the truth is, he never wore a shirt. Harry had so much hair covering so much of his body that he didn’t even need to wear socks because he had hair on the tips of his toes.

Harry was not only extremely hairy but also very tall and strong. Being so hairy, strong, and tall, some people thought he was a Sasquatch who decided to join the humans. The assumption was that he did it to get good rootbeer. Sasquatches, you know, can’t make good rootbeer. When sasquatches try to make it, they get lots of hair in it, and it ruins the flavor. Other people thought that Harry was really a grizzly bear who had learned to walk on two feet and speak with a growly accent. That wasn’t a very popular theory because no one could understand why a grizzly bear would want to become a human and give up eating salmon right out of the river.

Harry by Colson

One evening, Harry and his crew were in a pub celebrating the capture of a massive treasure from a Spanish fleet. The pub, Unicorn Toots, was a regular destination for Harry and his crew. They enjoyed the excellent rootbeer, the quality piano playing, and the fireplace was always roaring. Besides that, the ‘Corn (as the locals liked to call it) was the only pub with furniture strong enough to handle Harry’s bulk and enthusiasm. Harry was known to get very excited when he won at Connect Four. He was very good at Connect Four, so he was very excited. He had broken a lot of chairs in the Caribbean – enough that there was a small furniture maker who only makes chairs to replace the ones Harry smashed.

Anyhow, on this particular evening, while the patrons were loudly celebrating, drinking rootbeer, and playing Connect Four, a soaking wet, disheveled stranger stumbled in. The man stopped his shuffle and croaked out, Help me. That seemed to be the last of his reserves. He then collapsed to the floor, unconscious. By the sudden rush to the entrance, it looked like the whole pub had seen the man enter. Now, he was an unconscious lump of dirty, wet clothes in the entranceway of the door. Everyone wanted to see what had happened and who this stranger was. The pub was so loud that only the few closest to the stranger had heard what he had said. Others were asking, Did you hear him? Captain Harry was in the middle of an intense Connect Four game with his favorite opponent, his quartermaster, Titus. He was facing the door and glimpsed the stranger through the holes in the board. The Connect Four boards in the ‘Corn were also big enough to withstand Harry’s excitement. They were five feet tall, and when they were set up on the table, they nearly scraped the ceiling.

When the stranger collapsed, Captain Harry bellowed, Get back! Give me room! Anyone within a mile and a half could hear Harry bellow and immediately stopped what they were doing to obey. That bellow reminded people that Captain Harry might be more than just human. So, when Harry bellowed, everyone in the pub got out of his way. Even the farmer down the road stopped plowing his field a bit to make sure he wasn’t in Harry’s way.

Captain Harry stood up, easily pushing the bench and the six crew members back from the table. He quickly strode over to the doorway where the stranger had collapsed. He bent down and, with a practiced eye, started assessing the man.

Harry poked him in a few spots while making grunting sounds to indicate that he knew what he was doing. He then pulled and repositioned the stranger’s clothes. After a few moments and a few more grunts, he looked up. He ordered the curious people around him, Get me cold water, hot soup, warm clothes, and make room near the fireplace.

Harry picked up the stranger and tossed him over his shoulder like a stuffed doll, holding him with one giant hairy hand. It looked like he was holding a baby. His large hairy paw of a hand completely covered the back of the stranger.

Harry strode over to the fireplace to give the man a warm place to recover. As he walked, he was barking out orders. Get me some blankets to make a bed for the stranger on the hearth!

With the stranger still slung over his shoulder, Harry spread the blankets and made a snuggly bed close enough to the fire to be warm but not so close as to catch his clothes on fire. He gently placed the man down and stated, Now we wait for the warmth to work its magic.

Captain Harry went back to the bench where his six crew members were still sitting and sat down to finish his keg of rootbeer and his game.

Captain Harry had a unique tankard that used to be a 10-gallon barrel. The pub owner, Sam, had made it specially for him by putting a handle on a keg after Harry had emptied it. Sam kept the tankard behind the bar for Harry to use. This particular cup served two purposes. First, the steel bands reinforced it to withstand Harry’s enthusiastic banging when he won a game, which had previously broken lots of the regular pub tankards. Secondly, its large size saved trips by the barmaid. Harry took such large drinks of rootbeer that a normal mug was just one swallow for him. With a regular one, a barmaid had to be dedicated to just running between Harry and the bar to keep it full.

Being proper pirates, Harry’s crew enjoyed singing sea shanties such as Row Row Your Boat and the theme from Gilligan’s Island. Of course, this was before TV, how they knew the theme for a TV show is a story for another day.

After a few rounds of Connect Four and a few rousing renditions of sea shanties, the stranger started to stir. Harry finally noticed the man was conscious when he sat up on his elbows and looked around. Harry put down his tankard and went over to the fireplace, sitting down on the hearth next to the stranger.

Pierre’s Story

Captain Harry, you have to help me, the stranger croaked. My ship and crew were lost in an attack. You have to get revenge for my lost crew.

I think you’d better tell me your name and what happened, Harry growled. I don’t rush off to attack someone or something without a good reason.

Well, it's a long story, captain. You’d better get comfortable, and I’ll need something to wet my whistle. That rootbeer looks mighty good.

By this time, most of the pub patrons had moved to be near the fireplace so they could hear what Harry and the stranger were saying. Seeing the crowd, Harry barked out, Get this person a rootbeer so he can tell all of us his story!

One of the barmaids quickly brought over a cold rootbeer.

Ahh, that is good, the stranger said after taking a long drink.

You have your rootbeer; now tell us your story, Harry said in a low growl when it looked like the stranger was going to stall in the telling.

Right, right, the story. First, my name is Captain Pierre. I’m sure you’ve heard of my many exploits, he said, looking at Harry first and then the rest of the patrons. Not seeing any adulation or even recognition, he continued, a little deflated.

"My story starts about two months ago in Port Royal. My crew and I were setting sail to Barataria Bay. Our trip started fine. I had a good crew and a good cargo of rootbeer that we were going to sell to a merchant for a hefty profit. You know that the rootbeer embargo has caused a shortage all over the Caribbean. Being a clever captain, I saw an opportunity. All we had to do was get the rootbeer past the English ships that were patrolling near the west coast of Cuba. I planned to get close to the blockade line and stay just out of sight on the other side of one of the little islands. Then, when it got close to teatime, raise the sails and make a run for it. We sailed up to Cuba from Port Royal and made it to Cabo Corrientes. We waited for half a day, then made a run for the Gulf while those English were sipping their tea, just like I planned. It was close, but we made it because of my excellent seamanship. I was able to get us by them, just in time.

"We made it to the open ocean and started the long slog to Barataria Bay. The trip through the Gulf started perfectly, with a stiff wind pushing us along and not many clouds in the sky. After the first day, I took our bearings, and everything seemed right. There were no signs of impending nasty weather nor a threat of the doldrums. The night watch took over, and I headed to my quarters to have a nice evening rootbeer and a well-deserved rest. I fell asleep in my chair before I could even put on my special captain’s footie pajamas with little horses all over them. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour when I was woken by a huge swell that caused everything in my quarters to bang around. I pulled on my boots and grabbed my hat as it went soaring by, and I headed for the door.

"First, I was trudging uphill as the ship rode up the swell. Then, I was sliding downhill. Then I was walking on one side of a ridge, and then the other as a swell hit the ship broadside. This wave dance continued to the door of my quarters and up and out to the quarterdeck. On the deck, the helmsman was fighting to keep the ship facing into the waves so we wouldn’t get hit on the side of the ship and swamp it. I had already ordered the mainsail doused and furled for the night. We were running on only the foresail to limit the number of crewmen on the deck. I quickly got to work and relieved the helmsman. I ordered the foresail to be doused and the storm sail to be raised. The waves seemed to be beating us on all sides. It felt like we were a cork about to shoot out of a bottle of champagne! The wind couldn’t decide on a direction and was whipping around and playing with everything that wasn’t tied down, like a cat playing with a feather.

"I asked the helmsman when the storm broke over us. He said it had started at five bells into the first watch. It was now two bells into the second watch. I was fighting the wind and the waves for four bells when dawn finally started to lighten the sky. The storm seemed to have no end, extending in every direction, so we couldn’t find a course to steer to get out of it. We couldn’t see the edge, and the wind was blowing in every direction. I sent the crew below deck while I courageously fought the storm with no thought of my safety. After the first day of battling the storm, I realized I would have to tie my hands to the ship’s wheel because I could no longer feel them. I banged on the hatch until one of my crew responded. I ordered him to tie my hands and then to get back down below.

"I continued to fight the storm for another day. I could only tell how long it had been because of the slight darkening and lightening of the sky as the day passed. About halfway through the second day of me heroically fighting the storm, I finally started to see a break in it. The edge of the storm was finally visible in the distance. I again banged on the hatch to get the crew’s attention. When I got them up from below deck, I had them raise the foresail. Even though I was beyond exhausted, I called up superhuman reserves and steered the ship toward the edge of the storm. I think I kept their spirits up because of how courageous I was. It took us only another three hours to sail out to the edge of the storm. It was a near-impossible task, but we made it. I can read the winds and waves like they are a book. The sea can’t hide anything from me.

Once we got out of the storm, I ordered all the crew to their stations and began assessing the damage. It didn’t take long, just a matter of minutes, to see what needed to be done. The sails and ropes were the most important things to fix so we could get underway as quickly as possible. We still had spare sails and ropes in the hold. The damaged sails were stored away to repair when the crew had the chance. The damaged ropes were also placed in the hold to be repaired. We got the main sail and foresail replaced and got underway as quickly as we could to put some distance between us and the storm. I had a bad feeling the storm was going to chase us and wanted to get moving away from it. We were just making progress again when the lookout in the crow’s nest reported land ho."

"The land sighting here confused me because there are no islands in the middle of the Gulf. We couldn’t be near any land. We hadn’t made any real headway in any direction in the two days we were in the storm. I figured we hadn’t gotten more than 20 nautical miles from where we had entered. Until we could take a celestial sighting so we could get our time and our location, we wouldn’t know where we were for sure. Any land would be good, whether we knew what island it was or not. Any beach where people were not shooting at us would allow us to beach