Captain FitzGilbert decided to go down with the warship. The thought of failure before the enemy, in front of his superiors, family and history was too much humiliation for him to bear.
He sank to a remorseful death and was trapped in limbo, cursed forever to roam the passageways of the Angelica.
It had been quite lonely for this apparition, until one day an unusual sea creature ventured nearby. It had a slimy black body and limbs, strange elongated duck feet and a face trapped behind a transparent layer, with twisted tentacles circling around.
As FitzGilbert glided to the porthole for a better look, the curious creature peered inside, coming face to face with the ghostly figure. Instantly it shot upwards and as it disappeared out of sight, the Captain sighed, once more continuing his aimless wanderings.
“Jerry! What is it? What’s wrong?”
Loud cries as the scuba diver emerged, gasping uncontrollably.
“G-g-g…,” he spluttered.
“Gold? You found gold?!”
Fist-pumps, as all the men aboard the boat began shouting and cheering.
Jerry was speaking again but everyone was too busy dancing.
And the dancing stopped.
“Let’s go home Jerry, I think you must’ve swallowed too much seawater.
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction