Corrigan and Conall Flynn

Corrigan Flynn Fri Dec 10, 2010 8:25 am

((WALL OF TEXT TO FOLLOW: I will be posting the history of Corrigan and Conall in story form, over several posts, if that is ok with everyone? I like writing..))

Part I

Only the dim light from a single lantern, hung from the mast, could be seen through the fog that engulfed the small Bermuda sloop as it cut it’s way through the water. There was a storm moving in that had turned the waters into a battleground. The waves slammed against the sturdy little sloop causing it to heave to one side, then slam back to the other. White foam continually rushed over the deck spraying the small crew with the salty Caribbean sea water. The stout oak timbers that braced the ship groaned against the force of the sea, but never faltered. The small battery of cannons had been lashed securely to the deck. Corrigan Flynn, the captain of this small merchant vessel, was standing aft, straining to see through the fog behind them. Every now and then he would find his mark, the three glowing spots that marked the lanterns of their pursuer. Corrigan, and his brother Conall, had been playing a game of cat and mouse for days with the huge Lexington Brig that had chased them out of St. John’s harbor. You see, piracy was not welcome in British territories. “Pirates hell,” Corrigan thought to himself as he labored against the force of the ship’s heaving. You see, Corrigan and his brother had never thought of themselves as thieves, let alone pirates. In their minds the ship was theirs. It was in St. John that the brothers realized they were wanted men. The sign posted on the tavern wall read:

“WANTED
Corrigan and Conall Flynn
For thievery, piracy, and other acts of debauchery
REWARD 300 doubloons”

Corrigan and Conall were born in Ireland, and there they were raised until they were 20 and 18 years of age, respectively. When their pa died from pneumonia their mother went into fits and had to be committed. Corrigan, as a boy, had often accompanied his father to the Irish port town of Galway to sell their crops. It was here Corrigan would listen to the sailor’s tales of the Caribbean. He would sit on the docks and listen to the sailors talk of gold, rum, wenches, and pirates. Corrigan was convinced that a man could make “twice his weight in gold,” as he had once heard a sailor say. Corrigan would return home and act out these sailors stories for his younger brother, Conall.

With the loss of their pa, and removal of their ma, the two boys headed for Galway and signed on to crew the first ship they could find headed for the Caribbean. The two boys took to sailing from the start. They became the “favorites” of an old boatswain known as Macgregor. Macgregor took the two young men under his wing and turned them into first rate seamen.

Macgregor would regale them with tales of high seas adventures around the Caribbean. He would tell them of tavern brawls, ship combat, and pirates. He enamored them with tales, and warnings, of the pirate port of Tortuga- warning them to stay away.
Their ship, after many months at sea, berthed in Port Royal, Jamaica. The two young men would hold odd jobs and earn meager wages. Corrigan had earned a reputation as a drinker and a brawler, never holding a job for more than a few months at a time. Conall, on the other hand, had become a shop keeper’s assistant and had learned the ins and outs of being a successful merchant. The merchant, and old seaman himself, had started to use Conall to oversee small cargo runs between the local islands.

Conall convinced the old man to hire his brother. The two brothers excelled at their new venture, and soon managed to save enough money to buy half of the ship from the old man- with a promise to pay the rest over the coming months. As fate would have it, the old man died a few months later with the boys still owing him money for the ship.

The old merchant’s son, a spoiled brat if there ever was one, demanded immediate payment from the brothers. Corrigan and Conall pleaded with the merchant’s son, and came to an agreement on repayment. Or so the brothers thought. They sailed out of Port Royal and were headed to St. John with a small cargo in their hold, making a short stop in San Juan. By the time they reached St. John they were wanted men. The merchant’s son had accused them of stealing the boat, and the cargo aboard.

The magistrate in St. John had recognized them, and ordered them arrested. The two brothers made their escape and had been running from the pirate hunter’s for days. It could be said that the brother's are "accidental pirates," or "pirates by fate." Neither one had ever dreamed they would be on the run.

Corrigan Flynn Fri Dec 10, 2010 10:40 am

Part II

As the small sloop made its way against the fierce brewing storm, it seemed to know that the small crew was sailing for their lives. She seemed to take on a life of her own, speeding through the rough waters, jostling both crew and cargo. The winds howled through an intricate latticework of rigging and canvas above the small crew below. The winds beat against the thin canvas sails that were aloft despite the high winds. Corrigan knew, in his heart, that the sloop could take more than most thought.

Conall could be seen moving to and fro on the deck, giving orders to the scurrying crew. The rains fell now, in torrents, seeming to fly sideways against the ship and her crew. The men didn’t mind, they were already soaking wet. Corrigan yelled the orders, “About ship!” and the crew scurried to make ready. “Come about!” Corrigan shouted as the helmsman put all his might into turning the sloop to run with the wind. The sloop creaked and moaned losing speed, but quickly regaining it as the heavy winds snapped the mainsail tight and was off again.

The Lexington Brig was struggling to make chase, but could always be found in the distance aft of Corrigan’s sloop. Corrigan continued to head north-northwest, looking for “friendlier waters.” Conall, sensing worry in his brothers demeanor, approached his brother asking, “Wha’s ailin’ ya’ Cor?” Corrigan, snapping back into the present, replied sarcastically “Who ever woulda’ thought we would be searchin’ for friendlier waters in pirate territory?” Both of the brothers nervously laughed at this all too true joke.

“Land ho!” yelled the boatswain, barely being heard over the torrents of rain and the creaking of the sloop as it struggled against the violent sea below. “Tha’ must be Marsh Harbour!,” Corrigan said to no one inparticular. CRACK! The sound rang out louder than any noise Corrigan had ever heard. The mast had snapped under the strain of the main sail pulling against the wind that had been propelling the ship to its destiny. The falling mast sent shards of wood careening across the deck of the small sloop, sending most of the crew to the deck for cover. “Cut the lines, an’ let her go to the depths!” cried the boatswain, as the mast fell overboard and drug the ship to a near halt.

Corrigan looked back and the brig was gaining ground quickly. “Masts off port Cap’n,” one of the crew yelled. Corrigan turned port and saw three vessels approaching at great speed. Each one flew a flag unknown to Corrigan, but he recognized a skull on each of the three flags. “PIRATES!” Corrigan yelled at the top of his lungs. “Un-lash the cannons and prepare to repel!” The pirate ships drew closer but sailed past the sloop and her skeleton crew.

The three ships drew down on the brig that had been chasing Corrigan since St. John. The brig, seeing its untenable position, tried to retreat but was cut to pieces by several broadsides from the pirates. The captain of the brig struck the white flag, and surrendered his ship.

The three ships, saviors to Corrigan and his crew, came about in their ships and pulled along side the damaged sloop. The captain of the lead ship came along side, aiming his pistol at Corrigan, and questioned the young man. “I am Cap’n Johan Rutan, of the Nine Winds. Who be you?” Corrigan, feeling nervous with the pistol pointed at his head, replied quickly “I am Cap’n Corrigan Flynn, and I appreciate your help. Wha’ever cargo I ‘ave is yours, jus’ spare my crew is all I ask of ya’.” Captain Rutan laughed as he had his first mate throw a line over to the sloop. Conall grabbed the rope, and Captain Rutan yelled “Tie th’ line to yer sloop and prepare to be hauled.” The line was tied off, and the sails were raised on the pirate’s Hercules frigate. A sudden jerk, as the line grew taught, sent most of Corrigan’s crew to the deck of the sloop. The sloop slowly gained speed to match the Hercules as it pulled the sloop into the harbor. "Welcome to Marsh Harbour Cap'n Flynn. Tis' home to the Nine Winds, a finer group o' scallywags you'll not find," Captain Rutan bolstered.

Corrigan Flynn Wed Dec 15, 2010 12:22 pm

Part III

Corrigan sailed with his new brethren, The Nine Winds, for just over a year. By now, most of them had been killed, captured, or sailed for friendlier ports of call. Corrigan and Conall continued to practice their new trade with what little remained of their group. Corrigan, realizing the Nine Winds was not what it once was nor would it ever be again, convinced his brother to leave with him and seek a new home. They were in Tortuga one evening and over-heard a Captain bragging about his group of mates, and how they were growing ever stronger day by day. Corrigan, and his brother, were invited to the ranks of Rackem’s Raiders. The rest is yet to come..

(That is all for now, just a long brief history on my characters. Sorry it was a huge wall of text, sometimes when I get started it is hard to stop.. same could be said abour masturbation too i guess.. anyway.. thanks for reading.)

**Violet Davenport** Wed Dec 15, 2010 6:01 pm

What an awesome story. Great job.

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