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De Flying Dutchman


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Klaas en Xandra van Twillert:
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The Legend of the Flying Dutchman

... a dutch legend about the famous ghost ship

Wild chased the storm inland. The foaming ocean rolled and pounded on the quay at the port side of the only ship that was moored - a heavily loaded freight ship bound for the East Indies.

The weather was so horrible that none of the crew has ventured on deck. Only the captain, a big, square man with steel nerves and a rough disposition, was somber on the forecastle. He looked with flashing eyes to the opgezweepte waves, which prevent him from giving the starting signal. Through all the setbacks he had to postpone departure for several days now and obstructing those dreadful storm in his plans as soon as possible with his precious cargo sea to choose. With clenched fists he stood on the deck and cursed. Who or what dared him, the bravest and most fearless skipper in the world, to thwart? Had he not ship by the harshest storms gelaveerd along treacherous cliffs and sand banks? Was he not faster than any other ships of the Company to the East dangers? Had he not proven dozens of times that he no sea was too high and not too rough storm? He loved the dangers of seafaring life he had heard and stand up against it.

His men felt perfectly safe under his leadership and carried out his orders promptly. Without a murmur and without question. They knew they could build on his decisions and they did not mind that a bully as he roared to his goal. Finally, the master chief on board and had them by the most hazardous adventures always brought home safely. Yes, the crew of the East Indiaman had respect for the captain and went to him by the fire. Already he was so stubborn and passionate.

But now he was really a bit too far. While the storm howled in the rigging and the foaming waves against the bow hammered, he appeared growling and between-stated loudly that "Weather or no weather, we sail tomorrow morning at six hours out!"

The calls of the sailors and not silenced by the card-using men dared to speak his mind. But when the bosun his throat, nodded relieved everyone. "Objections, boots!" asked the skipper threatening. "It's Easter Sunday morning, Captain," replied the boatswain. The sailors were grateful to him. "That's right, Captain!" they cried. And: "It says the boat where a word!" Because it was a sacred law that a ship could not sail on Easter Sunday!

The captain clenched his fist and let him come down firmly on the map table of his sailors. "Nothing to do!" he bellowed. "Easter Sunday or Easter Sunday and no storm or no storm, sailing from me when I want. Make sure everything is ready for early morning departures and thus basta!" And he went snorting into his cabin, where they heard him swearing for hours above the roar of the waves.

Wilder and more violent than the last few days the storm drove the next morning on the shore. Higher than ever the waves lashed the walls of the vessel, which are securely moored along the quay. Black clouds kept the darkness above the port down. But anyway boomed the voice of the swashbuckling captain of the deck: "sails! Anchor! We go!" It sounded almost jubilant. As if the tough warrant the storm could do subside. The mate ventured a cautious protest: "Captain," he said, "today is Easter Sunday and the men have really object to in such hoogtijdag out to sea." But the captain laughed at him. "I am the boss!" he thundered. "And I say that we weigh anchor. Storm or no storm, no Easter or Easter!"

The sailors flew shouting into the ropes. Their captain was a brave man and he was responsible to sail, it was justified. Hang it! Had he not made the wildest seas and along the most dangerous capes? Was he not the bravest and brightest skipper world? They hoisted the sails and their spirited cries drowned the violence of the storm. But as they obey the command of their captain and succeeded against all odds made ready the ship voyage, heard above the tumult of the hurricane tolling of the Bells Easter. "It is Easter, captain," the pilot tried again carefully. The skipper swore vigorously. "Now what Easter?" he snorted. "I said that we leave so we sail out! Even if I ever need to navigate through, we go!" The sailors were equally silent, but it worked quickly.

The captain of a cargo boat was moored close to the railing and called his ship horn: "What the hell? Fern you from?" The proud skipper laughed derisively. "And why not?" he shouted back. "Man, you're crazy! There are chunks of. It's Easter and it can not have such a terrible storm miles brave!" - "That will we'll see," replied the confident captain. "In any case, we sail out!" He ordered all the sails in place and then the large white canvases in the wind rattled ominously, he ordered the anchors to explain.

The crew was deeply impressed. Their captain was a guy from one piece, a swashbuckler! What had he said? "All I would for ever have to proceed we go!" Hastily they put the final touches to the work, while the captain impatiently stomped up and down the deck. The bosun looked to him to report that everything was in readiness for departure. In the distance beierden the Easter Bells.

"Your orders are executed, captain," said the bosun. The skipper was now dead quiet on the forecastle. His eyes had a rigid expression, his hands hung limply by his sides. It was as if all life had departed from him. The boatswain seemed suddenly as nailed to the deck and did not move anymore. And the sailors in the rigging and decks silenced and no longer moved. The cook stood motionless behind the stove in the galley. The ship's boy froze halfway a somersault on the steerage. All men aboard the East Indiaman hung or stood or sat speechless and motionless in the place they had occupied.

But the ship was shocking move! While the crew as a collection of statues on the upper and lower decks was divided, Bolden sail against the wind by itself. And no one did anything, turned his bow and drove the ship from the port.

On the quay gathered a curious crowd, with amazement to the East Indiaman wegrazende stared. They could not believe their eyes. In the rigging, along the railing and stood on the deck the sailors, the boatswain and the captain still. None of the crew moved the ship and it shot over the waves, right into the wind! Who had ever seen something? A vessel which the fiercest storm left ... a ship whose crew watched idly ... a ship that port ended when the Easter bells rang ... The words of the arrogant captain went from mouth to mouth. "All I ever need to navigate through, we go!"

There was a shudder through people on the quay. Such spirited challenge just screaming for punishment! And if the fear of the audience was immediately converted into a visible warning, something strange happened. The sky above the departing ship was gray and cloudy but nowhere was a ray of sun. But anyway lit the sails as fiery vanes. Although no smoke trail pointed to a sudden fire on board changed the white painted hull in a blackened carcass.

The people on the wharf watched with bated breath to the fiery of the ghost ship sails on the horizon disappeared. Worried they returned home, as she wondered how the adventure for the crew of the East Indiaman would expire. Above their heads beierden Easter Clocks ...

The strange ghost ship moored in any port in eastern India on. It even went back to a Dutch port. The remaining women were not engaged and letters from the board and the company received no notice of arrival anywhere in the world. So we had to eventually do so assume that the ship of the reckless captain was sinking with all hands. But strangely enough flooded debris to nowhere. The people in the country forgot what had happened and thought no more of the ghost ship. Only a single mother prayed at night before bed is still the return of her son and a number of disadvantaged women continued hope for a safe journey home from her husband.

The months became years and it was like the time the memory of the ghost ship had swallowed.

And then something strange happened. On one days cruised a loaded carrier from the East back to the fatherland. Driven by a strong east wind to sail the ship sailed past the Cape of Good Hope. Suddenly the sailor on the lookout heard a cry of surprise. He rubbed his eyes and wondered if maybe he was dreaming. He saw me near a boat on the port side suddenly emerged behind a golf shot. And no ordinary ship! The sails were red and were ball into the wind. Suppose you agree to: a ship that sailed into the wind like the most natural thing in the world. The sailor again uttered a cry of terror and his mates came from all sides rushed. They all stared with open mouth to the curious vessel they had ever seen hunting along. They saw the fiery sails against the wind in Bolden, the charred hull and masts, the fore and aft dead silent ... That silence was not the strangest of all. There was no lookout in the crow's nest, there is no quick sailors climbed the rigging in feet and the bridge was an imperious master. The only thing in the vicinity of the ship was moving, was a black bird that circled around the mast.

"A ghost ship!" cried one of the men removed. "Get the captain!" The bosun went to the cabin of the skipper, but the two men were on deck, it was remarkable ship just as quickly out of sight as it had appeared.

The captain laughed out of his sailors. "A ghost ship?" he said scornfully. "You probably suffer from heatstroke. Ghost Ships are not!" And he immediately ordered his crew back to work and never called about the ghost ship to speak. But he could not prevent several sailors were staring silently ahead and occasional head shaking. They were still with their own eyes: a vessel which sailed with the wind in sails and a fiery blackened hull!

More and more reports of a ghost wandering around the ship reached home. A lot of people believed the messages and others went there on the shoulders. A ship that sailed with the wind in curved sails! A ship which no sailors in the rigging and moving was a skipper on the bridge! A ship with blood-red sails! Come on! And everyone had allegedly seen near the Cape of Good Hope! So it had to be a myth.

But the companies were finding it increasingly difficult for sailors to their ships to sign on. And more and more captains said: "I'd rather not sailing around the Cape of Good Hope." Because the story did the rounds, the ghost ship that spread death and destruction, that everyone who saw a horrible disease among members got so a progressive Company are exceptions to master the best case of the ghost ship to investigate. It was only once an end to the rumors about that crazy, wandering boat with red sails and fire blackened trunk, always near the Cape of Good Hope was seen! It was only once an end to the exaggerated fears of sailors on a ship that obviously do not exist!

But the best captain of the Compagnie saw it with my own eyes: as soon as he rounded the Cape of Good Hope, its course was almost crossed by an oncoming vehicle suddenly emerging with bright red sails and a blackened hull. The intrepid skipper ran to his hut not scared and was not desperate. He was wise and said: "This can not!" Whereupon he called all hands on deck and a speech. "Men," he said, to continue hunting the ghost ship pointing, "what we see before us, must be a delusion. On that foreign ships are not people and yet the sails and sail right into the wind. This may nobody an explanation. "

As he spoke, something terrifying happened. The ghost ship turned its prow and run at full speed right to the brave captain of the schooner off. The sailors cried. "Beware! We are go over!" But it was too late. Without pausing, shot the ghost ship approaching. At the prow she now saw clearly the figure of a man with flowing white hair, but otherwise nothing stirred him. And on the deck were criss-cross through each other sailors motionless against the mast and the railing. "Stop it!" cried the anxious men of the schooner. The ghost ship will not bother with their cry of despair, floated on the waves and ... enter through the schooner around! No shock or vibration was felt on board the schooner, only an icy wind ...

It took some time for the crew of the schooner again dared speak.

"Something I've never seen," said the bosun finally in a hoarse voice. "I think I am old." But they were all with private ogen.gezien: the charred fuselage and boom, the crimson sails, the skipper motionless on the forecastle. They all felt the cold breeze when the ghost ship through the schooner over feed.

"It was a Dutchman," muttered the captain pale. "He led the Holland flag!"

"The Flying Dutchman," someone said. And that name went from mouth to mouth. Later, at home, she would proudly tell them that the Flying Dutchman had almost touched.

Again years passed there. Old ships made their final journey and went under new festivities for the first water. Only the Flying Dutchman chased endlessly on the waves around Cape of Good Hope. The captain had recklessly decades ago about himself and his crew declared: "All I ever need to sail through."

Maybe even the time of rest for the wandering ghost ship. Perhaps then even arrived. The last time anyone has seen The Flying Dutchman and it is therefore possible that the proud captain finally came to their senses. Let's hope for him and his crew, because there is no greater punishment than the sky forever having to chase the endless seas and oceans without ever allowed to build anywhere.

[ source: Volksverhalen Almanak ]