Jake looked upon the scene before him, his stoic eyes belying the despair growing in his heart. All across his ship, destruction and mayhem made themselves known. Multiple crew had already fallen overboard, no doubt either being drowned by the mad sea or dashed against the hull. The storm had long since ripped the sails to pieces and slammed the crows nest through the hull, causing the boat to take on water at an alarming rate.

Despite this, Jake kept his grip taut on the helm, though the rutters had long since been destroyed. Violent angry waves crashed into the boat and rocked it to and fro with each passing moment, yet he stood strong. Even in the hopeless situation they found themselves in, Jake refused to let his men see him despair.

It was not a matter of pride, rather a beacon of solidarity for his men. It more or less had the effect he was going for, as his men were running around the boat trying their damnedest to keep it afloat. If one man went over, another came to take his place. Just as always, they held their defiant attitudes against the odds, even knowing the boat would be their final resting place.

An immense wave then crashed into the stern of the ship, knocking Jake into the helm and splintering it in two. The section with the wheel proceeded to firmly lodge itself in the fence in front of Jake. Before he knew what was happening, it was skewered into his stomach, effectively forcing him to stay aboard. Not that he planned on leaving.

“Way hay and up she rises!” Jake sang out, spitting out blood and water.

“Way hay and up she rises!” He cried out again, his men stopping and looking up at him.

“Way hay and up she rises!” He sang out a third time, his tears unseen in the rain.

His men stood tall with smiles on their faces and fists on their hearts, saluting their captain with grim pride.

“Early in the morning!” they all sang, as a behemoth of a wave three times the boat capsized them.