Garh twas' strange to see me' old mateys aboard the Dutchman. I feel refreshed some'ow. Some might expects me' ter ber sobered by the experience, and too troo things be a' feeling clearer now the dust has settled but I feel less sad than I have all these days since me' ol' ship sank.
An' no I feel me'self gettin' more attached ter' this bar a soap I be a'floating on. I call her a bar o' soap, that's what she reminds me of. Good ol' soap like me ol' mum used to use since we sailed in the Orient. 'Armless and quite h'armless a'cause of it.
So' even the dead a'fear me now. They had hardly started toyin' wi' the crew afore they sensed me' presence and fled. This contract wi' the devil be a strange 'un. I be a'wondering what he profits from it, it seems little booty to 'im that I can't speak a' mouthful 'o banter or lore ter me shipmates. May'ap since I were forced int'er the contract it ain't the same as if a dog was willin'ly givin 'imself and the terms ain't that bad.
Seems as if the captain's found 'imself a new enemy. Seems foolish ter' me with all these devils about 'ee should be a' worrin' about. Mind you, looks like that swordplay's got a romantic charge about it. I don't expect they've realised though, bless 'em.