“AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” came the collective yell from every single person left on board The Rollicking Ruby and The Bloody Cutlass, as the vessels broke free from the confines of the swirling water.
For what seemed like interminable seconds all that could be heard was the shouting of the crew and the wind as it whistled through the torn sails.
Then, with an ear splitting, hull cracking BOOM, the entwined ships splashed down, and settled once more in their rightful place, floating atop the surface of the ocean. Only which one was it?
One at a time everybody looked skywards and ended up with the same disbelieving expression on their faces. Spinning wildly in the air above them was the bottom of The Whirlpool of Swirliness. It was if the sky had sprung a leak and was flowing away. Upwards. Or
