THE ISLAND

The island is little more than a rock and the men on it little more than scarecrows by the time Stede Bonnet finds them. He sought them for days, alone in a small dinghy with a tiny mast and a sail that has more holes than linen. Finding them is his first victory. He's certain there will be more.

This is his new life. His second new life, in fact, because he had an old life - married with children - and then a new life - piracy with Blackbeard at his side - and then a new version of his old life in which his widow became his wife and then his widow again and Stede understood, for the first time, what it meant not just to love someone, but to be in love. Now, at last, he is in his new new life - once more at sea, with vague ideas about being a pirate, and firm ideas about finding his ship the Revenge, and Blackbeard.

Of course, to Stede, Blackbeard is Ed, Edward, (my love, my sweetheart). To Stede, Blackbeard is a friend, (a suitor, a beau). To Stede, Blackbeard is the most important thing on the globe.

Second most important, his crew.

"Ahoy!"

"I can't believe he's found us," says Oluwande. He rests his telescope on his ample knee as Stede approaches in the dinghy. "How is he even alive?"

"Where's Blackbeard?" says Black Pete. He scratches the back of his neck and puzzles over the missing pirate captain, last seen, like Stede, held captive by the English. "Where's Lucius?"

"Probably deid," says Buttons the lookout in a mournful tone. "Aye. They'll both be deid."

Pete punches him half-heartedly. They all know now, after weeks, that Lucius is not coming. Or Jim, but Pete is less bothered about Jim.

"Can you see food?" says Roach, the ship's cook. "Water?"

"Never mind that," says Olu. "Can you see a ship? Cos I can't, and that means-"

"It's me," cries Stede, beaching the dinghy and waving at his onetime crew. "I've found you! At last."

The crew gather round. Olu claps Stede on the back, noticing Stede's uncoiffed blonde hair, plain undershirt and utilitarian black breeches. His only flourish is a black silk sash tied at his waist. The rest is pure practicality.

Something has happened here. Where is the Stede of the jacquard coats and silk stockings? Why does he smell of soap (better than everyone else, of course) but not Parisian parfum? Where is his cravat, his lace collar and cuff, his finery?

"Good to see you man," says Olu. "You well?"

"Never better," says Stede, patting the big man affectionately on the shoulder, "for now I have a purpose." He glances around at the rest of the crew, who are now inspecting Stede's dinghy with obvious disappointment. "What's gone on here? Why are you all on this tiny island?"

"Ah," says Olu. "We were marooned."

"By the English!" exclaims Stede with a touch of his old drama.

"By Blackbeard," says Buttons darkly. "Aye, you may well doubt, but t'was he."

"Well," says Olu, "technically it was Izzy Hands who rowed us out here and left us, so…"

"Where's Lucius?" says Stede, taking a headcount and coming up short. "Frenchie?"

The men shrug.

"Izzy left us and the ship vanished over the horizon," says Roach. He curls his lip and spits.

"I see," says Stede. This is not such good news after all. No Blackbeard, no ship, and half the crew missing. "Well." He claps his hands and gazes about at the dusty beach, scrawny trees and sparse patches of dune grass which constitute the entirety of this rock in the Caribbean. "Hmn. We must make the best of it. I have a bottle of rum tucked away-" faces brighten - "so I suggest we find a comfy seat, enjoy a drink and take stock of our situation."

Stede sips rum and passes the bottle to Olu. "First off. Resources. What's on this dainty little island to eat?"

"Nothing," says Olu. "Just oranges." He points at the scrubby woodland beyond the tiny beach.

"Well, that's a start."

"They're too bitter to eat."

"Ah."

"Roach tried making them into a drink, but it practically killed us." Olu shudders at the recollection.

"Foul," agrees Pete.

Roach shrugs. "It wasn't so bad."

"It knocked me out for a day and a night," says Olu. "When I woke up it took an hour for my eyes to start working again. I was as weak as a kitten."

"Hmmn," says Stede. "Have you got any? Can I try some?"

Roach hands over a leather flask with a glint in his eye.

"Don't take too much," Oluwande says hurriedly.

Stede takes a wary sip. "Good god." He thrusts the flask away. "It smells like a fine liqueur. Tastes like a fine liqueur."

"Yup."

"But ...strong. So strong." He clears his throat. "I think we'll keep that for emergencies only. What else?"

"Snakes," says Roach with a shrug. "But we've eaten them all."

"To be honest we've been mostly living off seagulls," says Pete.

"You're no eating the gulls," says Buttons, who is a friend to all birds.

"Sorry man. Too late," says Pete.

"That's it," says Olu as Button advances on Pete with a murderous look. "No water, no food, just a slow wait for death."

Stede shakes his head. "Now that's not the spirit at all. Something will turn up, I'm sure of it."

"You're the first vessel we've seen in days,'' says Olu.

"Well, we can't stay here moping. Let's go." Stede gets to his feet and dusts off his breeches. "Come on!"

"In that?"

"In this. We can take turns rowing. And there's a sail, you have to sort of prop it up but I'm sure we can make it work."

"We'll never fit," says Roach.

Stede says, "Sure we will. We might just have to stack ourselves up a bit." He claps his hands. "Come on, men! Look lively!" He waves at Roach. "And bring some of that orange poison."