Bio
Before Don Robishaw stopped working he was a Sailor, PCV, world traveler, college professor, circus roustabout, refugee camp worker, and most recently ran educational programs for homeless shelters. Don’s been nominated for a Best of the Net Award, 2021. He’s the author of the chapbook, ‘Just Willie Please,’ OJA&L, 2021. ‘Bad Road Ahead’ was the Grand Winner in Defenstrationism 2020 FF Suite Contest. ‘Bad Paper Odyssey’ was a semi-finalist in Digging Through the Fat’s Chapbook Contest. Multiple works have appeared in: Maudlin House, Drunk Monkeys, Literary Heist, OJA&L, Digging Through the Fat, and FFM, among other venues.
Trigger Warning
A sort of a sequel to a previously published story. ‘The Devil Made us do it‘ was published on 03-23-2022 in Literary Heist. This pirate tale takes place about 75 years later, and is set in Caribbean and Cape Cod Massachusetts. Two women rivals have a love interest in a Pirate Captain and are in hot pursuit.
Driftwood on display at Whydah Pirate Museum
No rules here only guidelines Number One Loyalty
Captain Rock of the Pirate Ship The Retribution 1725
Three hundred years later a retired navy boatswain wanders Cape Cod shores. He finds driftwood, messages-in-bottles and other paraphernalia. Currents steer them to Jackknife Cove.
I stand-up a stainless steel hip pocket flask on a smoothed out black sea boulder, wipe the back of my hand across a reddish gray wet beard and flash an ear-to-ear toothless grin.
Morning mateys! Looking for Rhonda? Raised along the coast here, knows her way around boats. She used to race — won most of the time.
Scuttlebutt these days, she married a ‘real prince’ of a man. Two months later, The Rock betrayed and dumped her for another woman. ‘His’ daughter Yoko urged Rhonda to find a hobby, after her scoundrel of a dad sailed out of Cape Cod Bay with her romantic rival.
Vying for his attention and affection was none other than ‘Maria of the Sea.’ A mysterious loner. A dark-haired beauty. Various rumors abound . . . Rhonda’s rival, it seemed, wanted to reacquaint herself with her former lover.
Hiccup . . . Don’t take my word . . . for a more accurate picture check out Maria’s bottle messages, Rhonda’s diary and talk to the owner of the Gaspee Lounge. Tell her the old beachcomber will pay his bar tab . . . later. By-the-way, she was Captain Rock’s fifth wife.
Rock’s pirate lineage is something else. For more facts than bull shit, visit Whydah Pirate Museum in Yarmouth on The Cape. Sorry mateys, make that West Yarmouth, Massachusetts. Real easy to find. Ask to see the curator. Tell her ya know about the three hundred-year-old portal back to, ‘The Retribution.’ Captain Rock time-travels at least every fifty years, and takes a new wife.
Message in a Bottle, June 2024
Stretching out my young supple female body . . . only way to relieve pain in my lower lumbar region. Been with many men . . . longing for far too long. One lover does that, and he’s joining me on ‘The Pearl’, even if I got to kidnap him. I have scarce time to find Rocky before the big change. Tell him Maria’s in town.
August 2024
I returned to the bay, jumped off the bow of ‘The Pearl’ onto the dock and with the speed of light, figure-eight and secured lines around cleats, both fore and aft. I entered Seaside Marina Club looking for my man. Customers almost broke their necks checking me out, including Captain Rock. That’s my Rocky.
Rhonda’s Diary
August 1st, 2024
Captain Wonderful. Six marriages. What was I thinking?
Home in my haze, gray Cape Codder with his daughter, Yoko. I can’t have children.
Later, I drove to the marina. Clean-up crew downing cold ones. “Ya guys, ah, seen Rocky?”
“Saw them stagger towards the pier. Scuttlebutt around, they had set out to sail in a race of some kind.”
I know the race: Around the world solo, boats over forty feet in less than forty days. A souped-up forty-two foot Pearson can handle that. Could do it, maybe . . . if I had a damn boat. Hmm, ‘The Revenge of Rhonda.’ Great name for a sloop.
To make my stepdaughter happy I took an advanced course: Solo-sailing on Larger Crafts.
August 15th, 2024
Hired a detective who found them holed up on an uncharted island in the Bermuda Triangle. They’re hiding out, extortion charges and resisting arrest. The Rock can never leave. He’s no one to mess with. My Rocky’s a bad mother. . .
August 20, 2024
Hauled Yoko to Siren’s Saloon on New Skull Island. Sniff . . . smell of whiskey and beer in the air.
“Bartender!” Opened my Aussie dilly-bag, removed a double-sawbuck, cupped my hand and whispered, “Give Yoko to Rocky and that bitch of a mom, Maria.” I waited a minute and yanked out another twenty and slapped it down. “Forty greenbacks for an hour head start.”
An older woman smiled from ear-to-ear. “Gone fishing. Ya got an hour, lady.”
“Wicked awesome!”
“Don’t like Turdface, anymore than you. Only one on board, a parrot. She won’t be missed.”
I kiss Yoko, look down and whisper, “Any trouble, use this cell.”
“Love ya, Rhonda.”
“Love you too.” The daughter I can never have.
“Hands up,” says the green one. “Fuck you . . . fuck you matey . . .”
No ‘duck’ tape. I drop the parrot and its golden cage on board a blue & white Cal thirty footer— a sloop named ‘The Troublemaker.’ It never stopped cursing.
September 2024 Message in a Bottle
A biennial occurrence. On that island I nearly died from an overdose of Omega-3. I morphed into a mermaid, again. New scales leave his face a bloody mess. Rocky’s infatuated and will never leave. Every other year I return to the sea in search of sister Ariel and a Giant Pacific Octopus, named George. Don’t knock it. For more details read, ‘Love Me Like an Octopus’ and other tales of the sea by Sister Ariel.
Rhonda’s Diary
October 1st, 2024
I hijacked ‘The Pearl,’ set sail before the heavy fog blew in and a dark-green film surrounded Skull Island. Salt in the air, and turbulence in the sea that evening.
They fully outfitted the boat. Thank you. Can do this alone if I set sail before the fog and film arrive. Best time of the year, open seas at their calmest. Five days, if things go right.
October 5th, 2024
Ominous clouds overhead. A tear slide, and fall to the deck. Feel sad. Feel bad. Missing Yoko. What can I do? Ya can always drink more coffee and smoke more cigarettes.
When I was a racer . . . known as a cheater. The only time I lost was when I got disqualified. Always looking to get an edge . . . crossing the starting line early or breaking another rule. Rocky preferred to call them guidelines.
Vengeance got the best of me, though. My only sin, trying to make a man happy. Back in the day – or night – Rocky and I had no guidelines. For such a huge man, he knew how to be gentle when it mattered. I lost to a beautiful mermaid. Maybe I shoulda used that coupon for Weight Watchers. A local girl, nothing special.
I hijacked an expensive yacht and forged paperwork saying it was mine. I’m about to lie to the racing committee and government officials for the glory and prize money. What are ya gonna do, Rhonda? Don’t feel good about myself. I miss young Yoko.
November 2024
I smiled and sailed into Cape Cod Bay, completing the final leg. Vengeance is sweet, but not until April.
April 10th, 2025
I tie up at Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard. Although there were doubters among the idle rich . . . a cool million from ‘Hoity Toity Yacht Club, sponsors of the race honoring the upcoming one-hundredth anniversary of the first publication of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ‘The Great Gatsby’ waits for me. I’m Captain Rhonda, single-handedly, cough . . . cough, circumnavigated the world on ‘my’ Pearson forty-two footer, ‘The Revenge of Rhonda.’ Shhhh. . .
Inside my dilly, a red cell vibrates. . .
The Old Beachcomber: So the story went . . . or was it just another tall tale from a tall ship of the sea?