The Golden Gong

Dear Henry, 

I know it must have been terribly difficult to stay behind this time. Believe me, what I would give to have you here my dear brother, on what seems this cursed ship in search of the Golden Gong.  

I hope this letter finds you in better health that when we set sail months ago, gout is such a bother to endure.  Please don’t worry too much about me with the Cabin Boys and Gunners, I’ve won most of them over and still have the vote of most of the crew under me.  I’ve only had to order Crawley, our faithful Quartermaster to kill a few fellows who were planning a coup behind my back.  You’d be proud, I dealt with it swiftly.  

Many of the young men are too shocked to have a woman as a captain to want to incite mayhem.  So it strangely works in my favor.  They likely miss their mothers as well, so I wield whatever means necessary to keep them on my side.  Even if that means offering them occasional affirmation and encouragement, I see it keeps the crew from mutiny so though father would be rolling in his grave at the sight of such things I believe it is necessary in these modern times in our field of work.  Being a pirate is one thing.  Leading pirates is another.  Captaining a ship as a woman is a whole different beast.  In fact Father may have been able to avoid the mutiny that sent him to the grave if he’d learned from my trials and taken my advice as a lady Captain.  Ironic isn’t it Henry?

I haven’t a moment to ruminate on the less than favorable conditions including the weather as the Golden Gong is ever before me. It’s all I can see, it speaks to me in my wake and in my sleep.  You know what this means Henry if we find it, the change it will bring to us and our family.  The magic, the promises spoken to us when we were small.  I’ve never given up, you mustn’t either.  The doctor made you such a nice wooden replacement for the leg you lost and I just know you’ll be feeling your sea legs again soon and we’ll be able to have the grandest celebration with the Golden Gong beside us upon our return.  I will do whatever it takes to find it, even now I feel it’s vibrations, the cool streams of the golden rhythms, the celestial Gong.  I can hear it now.  Can you hear it Henry?  Don’t worry, I feel we are getting closer, the waves are moving us closer to it's celestial sound.  I’ll write soon, hopefully with the great news.  

Your sister,

Captain Frances (Franny)

Dear Franny,

I hope by the time this reaches you the crew is still causing you no problems and good Crawley is handling anyone who may threaten otherwise.  I know you can take care of yourself, but you understand my brotherly instinct.  It is very difficult to be on land at such a time, I long to find the Golden Gong as well but I do not think it equals your grit and fortitude in its finding.  By the fifth journey and this round of gout my passion waned, father would be so proud that your focus is so sharp, only intensified.  

The doctor did indeed fashion a leg for me but the wood already rotted, so he’s carving another.  I’m growing very weary of the present circumstances and lack of adventure.  Receiving your letter helped my spirits immensely.  I only wish I could be with you and the crew, helping stave off any enemies in the way of your singular purpose.  

Keep your head up, you will find the Golden Gong, keep your ear to the vibration in the water and wind; it’s melody will pull you in.  Surely it is close.  Surely you are near.  Can you hear it? 

Always your brother,

Henry

Dear Henry,

As luck would have it, we spotted land that upon reaching Crawley and I decided to name Rover Island.  After harrowing storms and clearly nearing our fateful end either in mission or lives, Rover Island could not have been a more welcomed sight.  

Many men perished the last few weeks due to lack of food and losing their marbles.  But I knew, dear Henry, we were close.  I could hear the healing chimes in the wind and through the night skies.  In my mind’s eye I could see gold reflecting off the sun during the days, drawing me to its whereabouts. I knew the journey to find the Golden Gong you and I and father, God rest his soul, have been seeking for so long was nigh. 

Oh Henry, how I wish you had been with me then.  Crawley and the remaining men; mostly the gunners were left, decided to turn back to the ship’s safety and set sail thinking they could make it home with the little rations and supplies left. (Trying to keep up with my blistering pace proved too difficult for them I surmise.) 

So I decided to continue on and go it alone.  Though home entered my mind from time to time, nothing was so preeminent as the Golden treasure.  For with it in tow would come not only the wealth we sought for so long, but the healing powers for you and I and all who would touch it’s radiant beams.  I thought over and over if only father were still here he would have been so proud, and also found the same physical reprieve. These thoughts kept me going through the Island's forests and thick weeds.

Yet here, dear brother, is where I must instead of great news ask a favor of you.  I believe I am within reach of our treasured Gong.  Perhaps even arms reach.  But a wooden cage prohibits any further advancement in my solo quest. I can hear from sun up until sun down now, and even in the shoddy attempts at sleep- the meditative song of the Gong.  It is torture, perhaps more than the prison cell.  It is so close it pains me at all times!  Little did I know a tribe inhabiting my Rover Island would be- likely for centuries- keeping watch over our treasure and arresting my mission.  

I know you are ill and without a limb, but my inquiry is this: should this letter find you, will you come and join me?  Truth be told, there will be a rescue needed first.  But then let’s plunder this little village together and away with our treasure at long last.  I promise to do my best and stay alive.  I made it through months and months at sea-- Captain Frances aboard an all male crew and lived to see another day- surely I can wait until you find me and we find our treasure still awaits.

Godspeed,

Your Franny

Henry hobbled along the sandy beach trying to get used to his new wooden leg, cursing occasionally and wincing in pain.  As the tide nearly met his foot, he noticed the glimmer of glass.  He lifted a bottle out of the ocean’s hands, uncorked it and removed the yellowed, rumpled contents.  Henry slowly made his way up to a dryer spot and read the letter that started-- 

Dear Henry,

As luck would have it…

He read it again and again.

He thought of his fearless, auburn haired, freckled nosed pirate Captain sister who had defied more odds than could be fathomed by any man.  His shoulders shook as tears ran down his face.  He looked up at the sun and swore he saw her face as he heard the Golden Gong ring in that clear celestial way.