Her heavy heart fair to bursting from her chest and clutching the capstan for support, she watched the sail cloth wrapped body slide over the starboard rail and winced as it splashed into the dead calm sea. She was gratified when the weary men lowered the plank and ducked their heads as they passed. To a man they had been loyal to their Captain. Not only had they lost their leader, they had also lost comrades and brothers at arms to the deadly scourge and now they were so weakened they could barely carry out the grim tasks before them.

Her soft sigh was echoed high in the rigging, as the first breath of wind in days belled the sails and struggled to drag the weary, misfortuned frigate from the doldrums. Those that could, clambered aloft to see to the rigging and others hauled their weary selves to their appointed duties.

Wakelyn stood at the helm and let the freshening breeze dry the salt sweat and tears from her face. In blood red coat and tan breeches, with chin raised, wild dark hair lifting from her neck and the memory of her father bitter sweet in her heart, she stood like a figurehead. She couldn't know how the sight of her bolstered a flagging crew or how each decided, then and there, to afford the same loyalty they showed the father to his brave daughter. As one, they raised clenched fists and cheered. Wakelyn turned and smiled at her crew and they became her slaves for life.

The shout from the crow’s nest galvanized new Captain and crew. A ship was spied on the horizon. Too far distant to recognize, one daren't assume she be prize or foe. Wakelyn couldn't pit her weakened crew and ship against either, but to run? Would not that be a sign of weakness? She ordered the yellow "jack" raised, ordered all sail possible and raced below to consult her father's charts.

Alone in the Captain's cabin, she paced and stared through the mullions. Her father's brash, golden parrot ducked under her hand and nibbled her fingers. She ruffled his feathers and whispered, "Oh Pegleg. Where are we to go?" The "Sea Witch" would find no safe harbor in these waters and death was racing toward them. She could not lead her tattered crew into battle now! They were sorely weakened and needed time to regain strength and purpose.

The sharp rap on the cabin door startled her from the dizzying whirl of thought. Too tall to stand fully upright and still uncomfortable with his promotion to first mate, Gunny ducked his head and stuttered, "Tis that cur, Milady....Mam....Captain! Er, he be the one following and looking to be determined to catch us...."

"And would that cur be the Master of the Black Dragon?" She queried in a level voice that belied her true emotions, for she knew the answer. "Aye, and many a time after a stout ale he's boasted ye'd be his dandy darl'in after the Captain, bless his soul, met his maker..that is...beggin yer pardon ...Captain, Mam...er.." Wakelyn stopped him with a wave and muttered. "Mam will do Gunny." She dragged him to the chart table, stabbed an elegant long finger at a small island and grimly stated, "This is our only hope. Give the order to batten down, pray for a near gale and make haste."

Pegleg piped in with a raucous “Dandy Darlin, Dandy Darlin, give us a kiss," then ducked into the sea trunk as Wakelyn shied a half eaten, stale biscuit at his head. "Vile creature! Here you are when your master is at the bottom of the sea. For shame!"

Wakelyn secured the cabin, grabbed her father's pearl handled pistol and coin pouch then placed the bird on her shoulder. There might not be time to return to the cabin.

Abovedeck she faced the horizon and the dark menace waiting there. A few almost forgotten words from an old shanty haunted her heart.

If to fair India's coast we sail,
Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright,
Thy breath is Africa's spicy gale,
Thy skin is ivory so white,
Thus every beauteous object that I view,
Wakes in my soul, wakes in my soul.

Would she ever forget the soft starry night on this very deck when a soft spoken, gallant mate had serenaded her? Could she ever forgive his betrayal? Not while either of them drew breath.

And then she nearly broke her own vow never to breathe his true name.

Would it have been a curse or a prayer?

The Costume - a pair of camel tan breeches tucked into knee high black boots. The shoe part of the boot is a Kingstate shoe, topped with genuine black leather upper, tongue and cuff. Black cords lace up the front. The black “suede” sleeveless vest laces over an ivory lawn chemise and has been trimmed with tiny black and gold cording. A fringed red and gold sash is tied over her hips. This is the perfect place to tuck her pistol. The deep red coat is fully lined in black and has been lavishly embellished with brass buttons and red slashes on lapels, wide cuffs, pocket flaps and high collar. The coat is removable. Her red fringed ivory lawn kerchief has been tied around her head under a black velvet “tricorn” hat with a red and gold cockade and large white feather plume. Large golden hoop earrings, bracelet and a golden coin on a tiny chain about her neck complete her costume.

- Tyler's One of A Kind (OOAK) Costume Was Completely Hand Sewn -

The Accessories - The wooden trunk was stained and has leather bands and strap handles. It contains a hand crafted leather ship’s log and several maps and charts of the period. The bird stand fits into a holder in the side of the trunk. "Pegleg" was hand crafted from polymer clay, painted and feathered. He is attached to a leather strap which can be tied to secure him to the stand or Wakelyn’s bare wrist - or over the coat if desired. Her "pearl" handled flintlock pistol was crafted from polymer clay, painted and sealed. The little leather drawstring pouch contains her golden doubloons - each worth about seven weeks pay for the average sailor!.

Tyler as Wakelyn - has been completely repainted. She has sea blue eyes, shadowed in soft charcoal, feathered dark brows, beautifully shaded berry wine lips, a natural manicure, gently permed trimmed dark brown hair and carefully fitted, applied lashes.

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