Hafen Dieu-Le-Veut ⚓︎ d4f ⚓︎ done

I grew up being soothed by the rocking of a ship. Harsh waves crashing against the cabin swinging me back and forth like a child’s cradle. The sailor’s shouting was a lullaby, pacifying the fear of starvation once I would be back on shore. The ships never had space for very long, maybe a month at the very most. A month where unpredictable normalities of the ocean held my small hand promising it would all be okay.

Lost at sea would have been a warm embrace welcoming me home.

Only one hundred meters away from the old pier, stood a little cabin. The windows were broken in and the door would not properly close. A pungent damp smell flooded the bedroom (If it had not been already flooded by water). There was no way of telling how many of us actually sought out refuge here, the numbers constantly changing. There were days Drea would pull me close to her in a small cot not enough for one person, those were the days the cabin came alive. Chatter never dying down as the voices of abandoned adolescents and children lifted up the spirits of such a grim place.

Lost children. That is what we called ourselves.

Every one of us believing we were an exception, holding out to an empty promise that someone would come looking for us. A hope I held onto for far too long, a constant search for my father’s gaze to be amongst the sailors. I chose to believe the day would come, my smile identical to his and he would pick me up apologizing for ever having left me in the first place.

“He probably doesn’t know you even exist.”

I believed Drea was a pessimist. Rotten throughout the years, watching carefully as our population grew and more of us went to bed hungry. I swore at night I caught her praying the buoyant light in our eyes would be stomped out sooner than later. The longer the fall, the more devastating the crash.

Now I know better. Now I saw how she tried to cushion the impact, hoping I would not burst out in flames.

I wish she would have tried a little harder.

From one shattered dream, a new was born. Fingers crossed tightly as I held my breath hoping the next ship would become my permanent home. On shore I had learned to perfect my knots, swimming in the ocean even when the waves were rough. If I could just dive a little deeper, then maybe someone will want me. During mealtime, I listened carefully…picking up the language and learning their stories. Old tales of men who were their own masters, abiding to no law made by mankind. They roamed the ocean freely, taming the waves and inheriting her treasure. Jolly roger waving in the wind, the sun shining down on all of its glory.

“Were there any girl pirates?” I had asked a sailor who frequently would buy me lunch on the docks. Someone I once had hoped to be my father, and even if he wasn’t…he was damn close.

“Sure, not all too many. Gonna be real with ya kid…out there it’s a man’s world but ya can’t talk about pirates without talking about Godless Anne. She was a bit like you, most times it’s bad luck to have a girl on board but with all those pearls you keep on finding, you’re a real good charm. See Anne Dieu-Le-Veut, she was as good of luck as they come and a ruthless woman. Who knows, maybe one day they’ll call you Godless Hafen. ”

He chuckled warmly, to this day I never did know if he really believed what he said. It did not matter because I believed it.

The pearls I had found on my dives slowly built up, a few weeks after my thirteenth birthday I had managed to sell them to a jeweler in town. The cash in hand had been more money than my eyes had ever laid eyes on. The wrinkles on the bills felt smooth in my hands, as I gripped them knightly watching my knuckles go white. It went without speaking, if I had shown up at the cabin with that much cash I would have drawn a fat red target smack in the middle of my face.

Instead, I walked back to the docks, greedy eyes imagining myself at the helm of each and every one of the ships. A crew to call my own, raising their weapons high and mighty as they challenged anyone who dared step foot on our territory without invitation.

Godless Hafen.

Their chants ringing as clear as day, ships far astray would hear of the riches I had found. The ocean in all of her glory was finally mine to call home.

What a nice fantasy it was, there were not enough pearls for me to find that could afford me such a ship. That day I had purchased a little rowboat made of wood, and I sat inside knowing this was a small start, but the day would come.

I gave her the name Godless Anne. Then I gave myself the name Dieu-Le-Veut, after the woman who I wished would have been my mother. A story I hoped I would one day make to be my own.