In the shoes of a pirate – Chapter 1

McKay was a dreamer. Nothing suggested he was destined to become the greatest pirate of all time. He came from a humble background. His father was a shipwright and his mother looked after him and his two brothers.

An exceptional cook, she had passed on her passion for flavour to him. He loved to hover around her as she began preparing her dishes. She had a way of bringing dishes to life, letting the aromatic flavours dance, kneading the dough, and deglazing the fish caught that very day. When he sneaked into the family kitchen, his finger would sometimes stray into a spicy, aromatic marinade. His nostrils would fill with the sweetness of elderflowers picked for fritters. One rainy day in March, his mother gently shooed him out of the kitchen, saying, ‘Go and see your father in the workshop, and bring that cookbook back to Maddy; I can’t do anything with these exotic recipes. We don’t have half of these fruits and spices here.’

Maddy was their closest neighbour, although her house was about a thirty-minute walk away, in the direction of her father’s shipyard. On the way, he stopped under a tree to leaf through the illustrated cookbook *Delights of the Taínos*. There he discovered recipes for sweet potatoes, with flesh as thick as a buffalo’s hide and as rough as the soil of the fields. They described a subtle sweet, caramelised flavour in boiled, roasted, grilled, steamed or fried versions. Cassava, yams, and fish dishes cooked in strange handmade pottery vessels. McKay’s mouth watered and his curiosity was piqued by so many unknown delicacies.

He jumped to his feet and ran over to Maddy’s, tearing off a few leaves and twigs along the way. He burst through the door of Maddy’s cottage with a great crash, foliage piled on his head, the cookbook in his left hand and a hazel branch held up to his left eye like a telescope. He brandished the book and ran round the old woman shouting, ‘I am a flavour explorer! I am a flavour explorer! I’m going to bring you back the most surprising flavour you’ve ever tasted!’

His arm was adorned with a tattoo of a ghostly, wandering woman, weeping over a stream. He steered his boat with confident movements, imbued with a kind of mysterious elegance.

At the end of the seven nights, the old man looked at McKay and said, “You’re a good lad. You’ve got the soul of my ship; now you carry on my story. I’m old now. Repair my ship and it’ll be yours; you’ll carry on writing my story.”

The next day, the old man had disappeared.

His boat was still moored in the harbour. McKay walked over to it and ran his fingers over the words engraved on the hull: ‘From Soil to Soul’. With a heavy heart, he whispered, ‘I will carry on your legacy, old man.’

Over the following months, he set about repairing the ship. He unloaded the cargo and erected scaffolding. He repaired the cracks, tears and dents. He welded, riveted and replaced metal plates. He caulked, scraped away paint to prevent corrosion, and replaced damaged parts. He worked with fervour and a passion that bordered on obsession. So much so that one fine morning, ‘From Soil to Soul’ was ready to cast off. And McKay, our culinary adventurer, was ready to embark on an adventure that turned out to be an epic journey.

Chapter 2 – The Royal Return

McKay had now been away from his family for ten years. A renowned adventurer, he had explored numerous lands and trade routes. He had developed particular expertise in the spice trade, collecting flavours and methodically recording them in illustrated works. Some say that it was McKay himself who illustrated the first wheel of flavours to facilitate the sale of the spices and floral essences he brought back from his explorations. Over time, his reputation had grown, and people eagerly awaited the arrival of the ‘adventurer of taste’.

McKay was intrigued by the conversation between the two men. He spoke to them and offered them a bottle of the innkeeper’s finest rum, a Barbadian nectar. This smooth, full-bodied spirit, which had been ageing in the tavern’s barrels for 12 years and boasted notes of pineapple and nuts, warmed their palates and loosened their tongues.

‘You seemed to be having quite a lively conversation. What were you talking about, my friends?’ asked McKay. The second man kicked him so hard that the table shook and the candle flame flickered. “Shh, we’re not going to give him the lowdown, are we?
” “Look how scrawny he
is—he’s not the one who’s going to satisfy the queen! I’d love to see that
.” “Tell me everything, friends. “And bring your glass round, the tide’s low, my friend,” encouraged McKay
.“There’s an island, a really tiny one, right over there. It’s so small that with three boats, the harbour’s full. But it’s powerful, that island, and they say it’s a bit magical. Well, not the island, but the queen. There’s a king and a queen who live there. They’re rich, very, very rich
.” “The queen has a beauty that would make even the mightiest whale in the depths of the sea pale
.” ““More than just beautiful—they say she can cast a spell on you in the blink of an eye.” ” added the second
man, warmed by the rum’s warmth.“On the other hand, she doesn’t smile. We know something happened, but we’re not quite sure what. It seems she lost her smile after a ship arrived on the island. Her husband tried everything: they say he even tried voodoo. 
”— “And ever since, her husband has been urging the sailors to bring back their treasures. He promised that if a sailor brought back a treasure that would make the queen smile, he’d give three times the value in gold. Imagine, you give her a ruby, and she smiles at you, he gives you two rubies. Oh no, wait, what did we count on?”

The man picked up the remaining chicken bones from his plate. He placed one on the table and scratched his head, looking puzzled
.“We’d agreed… Ah yes, that’s it.” He lined up the other two bones on the table
.“If you bring her a ruby and she smiles, you leave with three
.” “And what happens if she doesn’t smile?” asked McKay
.“The king keeps the treasures. But they say you might also be bewitched by the queen. Some people have never left the island, so they say,” hissed the sailor between sips of rum. “No wonder they’re rich, both of them.”

McKay was deeply intrigued by this tale. He asked the men how to get to the island. The second sailor, a man of few words, haggled for another bottle in exchange for information. McKay was desperate to satisfy his curiosity and accepted the deal. The sailor then handed him a gold coin, bearing the profile of a woman. A breathtaking beauty: a hooked nose, high cheekbones, a gaze as sharp as a dagger. And indeed, a countenance as hard as the sturdiest of rocks. In the curls of her loose hair, one could make out a map. He took out his magnifying glass and looked closely: he recognised the rocky outcrop through which he had arrived the previous day. There was no doubt about it; as a seasoned explorer, he would be able to find this mysterious island.

Music: Hoist the Colours https://deezer.page.link/coJHWpfVHixqfpVr5

His night was short and chaotic. He could hear a woman’s voice speaking to him, carried on a warm, tearful and sensual breath. The queen’s face took shape through a screen of smoke, and an icy laugh cut through her sighs, yet he could clearly see her sealed lips, unable to form even the slightest smile. In a lament, she spoke to him, whispering, ‘Only one gift will satisfy me. My smile shall be your pleasure and your quest.’

The next day, his mind was made up: he would find a way to please the queen; he would devote himself to the task day and night. He would give his life to it if necessary, but he would succeed in bringing a smile to her delicate lips. Before gathering the finest treasures for the woman who was already haunting his nights, he wanted to fulfil his first wish: to bring the chest of flavours back to his mother.

Music: Tukumulu https://deezer.page.link/BWBuEhjgJQF4tHrk7

He packed his belongings and set sail for his homeland. The vision of the queen haunted him, and he felt a flame reignite within him with every tormented dream. He had already begun gathering treasures for his muse. During his stopovers, he used his business acumen to barter his rarest spices for necklaces adorned with precious stones and sparkling goblets. Gradually, he had assembled a crew who followed him with enthusiasm, drawn by his boldness and natural authority.

After several months at sea, he caught sight of the outline of his homeland, which he knew so well he could have drawn it in the sand. His holds were filled with glittering treasures and exotic scents. The rolling of the waves made the coins jingle in the chests, and if one ventured into the lower deck during the day, the diamonds and pearls were so dazzling that a single ray of light would have been enough to blind you. But McKay’s most precious treasure was the chest intended for his mother, hidden at the back of the hold.

The boat hit the shore with such force that McKay felt his heart pounding against his ribs. He could smell the scent of freshly caught shellfish filling his nostrils, along with the aroma of acacia fritters that he had greedily devoured as a child on the beach whilst waiting for his father. In the distance, he could make out the roof of his father’s workshop, though the roof had been repainted.

The beach was far busier than he remembered from his childhood. Women were lifting their linen dresses to gather oval-shaped shellfish and tossing them into large baskets. Others were working on nets, their thick black hair tied back at the nape of their necks.

He walked along the beach towards the workshop. Once he’d rounded the bend in the beach, he could clearly see his father’s workshop. The letters ‘McKay Navigator’ had been replaced by ‘Marinero & Sons’. Inside the hangar, which had doubled in size, he didn’t recognise a single face. Ships were parked there like dried garlic cloves.

He addressed a workman who was busy sanding a mast
:‘Where is my father? The man who runs the workshop?’ The workman pointed to a man
dressed in white linen, cinched at the waist by a gold belt.“An older man. Long beard, short in stature, brown eyes?”
“Oh. He passed away from illness. He worked right to the end, but it got the better of him.”

McKay felt his legs go weak and his stomach churn. The dull thuds of the tools grew louder around him until they became deafening; the clamour of the planes and files seemed to pierce his skull. He spun round and ran out of the workshop.

His footsteps led him mechanically to his family home, where he hoped to find answers from his mother. The house was still there; the scent of rosemary and thyme still lingered at the entrance. The fence had been replaced, and on a clay sign, one could read ‘Henderson Family’. A woman with her back to him, her hair in plaits, was sitting on a teak bench by the vegetable patch, weaving a basket.
‘Mother!’ The woman turned round, but he discovered the surprised face of a woman far younger than his mother
.“Where is my mother?” McKay asked her. “Is she unwell? This is my home!” She looked at him intently for a few seconds, taken aback, then her expression suddenly softened.“Oh. You’re
McKay’s son. Sit down beside me,” the woman replied.

She gently squeezed his hand and continued in a kind tone.
“A tragedy struck us a few years ago. An illness that arrived on a ship. Many of our family members passed away. Your father had been looking after the ship, and he fell ill very quickly. He was one of the first to go. ’ ‘Your mother looked after your brothers on her own, but she never recovered from that tragedy. She passed away a few years later, convinced that your father and you were waiting for her on the other side,’ she said, her voice trembling. She gently clasped McKay’s hands, as if to comfort a wounded child. “Your brothers sold us the house before leaving the city.”

At that moment, McKay felt his heart dry up like a reef at low tide. A throbbing, piercing pain seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat.

He returned to his ship and went down into the hold. He gathered his crew, unfolded his chart, and rolled the gold coin bearing the queen’s profile that the man had given him at the tavern. He drew his dagger and plunged it savagely into a mark on the chart.

‘This is where we’re going.’

With its holds filled with the finest treasures, it docked on the Queen’s Island one full moon night.

Music: ‘The Magna Carte’https://deezer.page.link/bwgzj8kkTrrpJHkEA

Chapter 3 – Barbarroja’s sordid revelation

McKay arrived on the island at nightfall. The moon was reflected in the water, causing silver droplets to glisten on the stern of the boat. The silhouette of the ‘From Soil to Soul’ stood out against the night like a shadow puppet in the glow of a candle. McKay led his men ashore and ordered a team to stand guard in front of the full holds, overflowing with dazzling treasures and shimmering spices.

He gathered his shirt at the nape of his neck to make a pillow and dozed off in the cold moonlight. His night was filled with turbulent dreams and a woman’s whisper as sharp as a shard of glass. He woke with a start when he felt a warm breath on his shoulder and a scent of wild rose mingled with sandalwood. Closing his eyes, he could see, in negative, the queen’s almond-shaped eyes and her pursed lips, locked by a curse.

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The following morning, the chests were carried by his crew, tied with ropes across the men’s backs to distribute their crushing weight. With every step, they sank heavily into the sand, chilled by the night on this mysterious island. Two men had gone ahead as scouts towards the centre of the island, where the vegetation had taken root. They entered a tropical rainforest, shaded by a dense canopy, weaving their way through orchids, crushing moss and ferns. It took them three days and three nights to reach a plateau at the top of the vegetation, which overlooked the island.

A magnificent castle stood in the middle of the plateau, surrounded by well-tended gardens and a spacious esplanade. A group of men and women had gathered at the foot of a tree, whispering and eyeing the sailors as they arrived, their arms laden. McKay reached the foot of the building, skirting the fountain of polished white stone set with sapphires. The place seemed suspended in time, as if every second had been enriched with priceless treasures.

McKay entered the building. Snakes wound their way around the immense colonial colonnades, adorned with sparkling rubies and diamonds. The friezes of the columns were topped with rows of sapphires. A man, on all fours, was decorating the edges of the gold-leafed marble tiles with a tiny brush. Coins made of three types of pure gold were embedded in the walls.

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McKay and his men walked down the long corridor, which was lined with rooms furnished with red divans. Men and women of great beauty lay there. The walls exuded a sweet, floral and slightly acrid scent, and wisps of opium smoke filled the rooms. The men’s eyes seemed vacant, spellbound, as if they had lost their sense of self. The echo of a mystical chant reached the sailors’ ears and instantly reminded them of the myths of the sirens that inhabit the deep seas.

After several long minutes of walking through these surreal scenes along the gallery, they saw two gigantic thrones take shape at the far end of the room, one made of platinum and the other of rose gold. The backs of both seats were topped with spikes rising a good metre from the top of the backrest, intricately carved and adorned with emeralds and diamonds. McKay stumbled over a thread of gold and lace as fine as the wings of a moth. Following the thread with his eyes, he realised it was none other than the Queen’s train, which spread out at her feet for several dozen metres. The closer he got, the more the spellbinding song echoed deep within his ears.

McKay approached the two rulers, who stood as still as two marble statues. The clinking of coins and the many precious stones that he and his men carried clattered against the chests. He first noticed the queen’s eyes—silver-grey eyes, shifting like the sky and the ocean before a storm, imbued with a mysterious and intriguing aura. Her beauty was as dazzling as that of a shimmering wave, lit by the sun, breaking majestically upon the shore. The lower half of her face was covered by a veil as fine and delicate as a crystal of ice. The mystical chants grew louder and louder, so loud that McKay could not tell whether they were real or a figment of his imagination.

McKay felt those words like a sharp dagger. His breath caught in his throat and a numbness spread through his limbs. Suddenly, a surge of tension froze his neck and shoulders. He felt a dark rage take hold of him. It grew, pulsing and deafening, with every beat of his heart. He turned on his heel and strode stiffly out of the palace towards his ship. He moved away from those walls, but despite the distance, the mysterious, spellbinding song lingered in his ears.

Even the mildest spices tasted bitter to him. The most delicate aromas had a rancid tinge. Rum tasted like fresh water, and the sparkle of precious stones seemed dull to him. He was outraged by his own gustatory wanderings, and would occasionally seize a random member of his crew, brandish his sword at their throat and shout, his left hand clutching a randomly selected fiery spice: ‘Taste it or pay the price!’ And if the man had the misfortune to sneeze or grimace, he would throw him overboard.

Some people claimed that they sometimes saw McKay wandering around the ship’s deck as if he were drunk, muttering nonsense and letting out hoarse, wild cries.

From the day he met the queen, McKay was never the same man again. In his quest for the finest treasure that might satisfy the queen, he had become the most cruel and bloodthirsty pirate the seas had ever seen. He became a dark figure, driven by boundless aggression. In the maritime world, he had forged more than a reputation: he had become a legend. He was dreaded and feared, and grim tales bearing McKay’s new name were told to children who misbehaved. Pirates and locals, privateers and kings, wealthy heirs and princesses—all felt their blood run cold when his name was spoken: Barbarroja.

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Music ACT1 SEA Borne Liberators of Mind https://deezer.page.link/mWGCUdibu9iHAN7y5