Rhyming Story Challenge

600 words max-Historical Fiction-Traitorous-Cheerful

Our tale begins with the rescue of Murphy Mcginn 
And us rowing past many a wave an’ fin. 
When the Cap'n dropped anchor to walk on solid land, 
We pulled, and we sang until the longboat struck sand.

Cap'n Russo was weary as he’d just lost his wife.
They’d been married so long; she was his whole life.
His anger and sadness turned to pushing us, his crew. 
‘Twere sad, but there are limits, what sailors will do. 

We’d already stayed out a month past our return date, 
burning through rations sans one coordinate. 
We fished some but mostly flew full sail day and night. 
Our Cap'n bent on besting the sea in a fight.

While foraging, we heard a yelping from down the beach. 
We drew swords and headed to the sound of the screech.
We came upon the Cap'n and the cause for the sound: 
A snake with a spear through it and into the ground. 

From the brush stepped a man offering an outstretched arm.
He were the one saved the Cap'n from harm.
“Murphy McGinn, pleased to meet your acquaintance,” he said.
We looked on, wondering how this man weren’t dead.

“How did ye get here in the first place?” inquired Russo.
“A storm felled my ship and left all hands below.”
“Except you?” pressed the Captain, eyeing the scruffy man.
“Until today,” McGinn exclaimed, gesturing his hand.

“Well, for saving me life here, I do owe you a debt, 
But I wouldn’t go count your blessings just yet. 
We still have a long and hard ways to go yet at sea. 
Once you’re fit again, you’ll take orders from me.”

Cap'n Russo put McGinn to deck work soon enough.
Each encounter after that grew more tense and gruff. 
In a fortnight, it was clear Mcginn had had his fill.
One night, he gathered us with the lure of swill.

Then, with the Cap'n asleep, he told us quite the tale. 
Fantastic, it were, and not just cause the ale.
By lantern, we learned McGinn'd been a pirate and mate
When a traitorous crew chose his Captain’s fate. 

Now McGinn were the only living soul knew the spot
Where a treasure be buried that'd make rich the lot.
He suggested Cap'n Russo be dispatched as well
And left to battle 'gainst the sea in his own hell.

That very night, after breaking into still more booze
We decided to let the ol' Cap’n choose: 
Be set adrift to face fate in a longboat alone, 
Or join Davy Jones now without no headstone.

The Cap’n stared out to sea, his face all stoic-like. 
“Mutiny,” He shot. The word stung like a strike.
“Go ahead, then, and leave me. The sea's all I’ve got, 
But know, though I’ll be gone, this deed will make you rot.”

“I quite doubt that, Captain,” Mcginn explained with some glee.
“You see, Where we’re going, we’ll be rich and carefree.”
"But what you don’t know," said Russo, “is that there’s a curse. 
Each day since my wife left, it’s only got worse."

"Her ghost calls from a distance, ever urging me on. 
Interfering like this, your triumph won’t last long. 
You’ll assume this bane and be left ever chasing.
Prisoners obsessed with the hunt what you’re facing."

McGinn cut him off, and soon after, Russo was gone. 
Still drunken, we cheerfully set sail at dawn. 
Men possessed, we sailed after the prize we now all sought. 
She still eludes us, always just out of earshot. 

Onward, boys, out, out to sea. The treasure lies close there, with our banshee.