The captain’s booming red voice resounded over the wind, and all ears turned to the giant of a man that bellowed to the top of his lungs.

“All right ladies, here’s the plan : we use the darkness to sneak in beside that English ship, silently climb aboard, an’ head straight for the cap’n. We aim fer capture first, not plunder! Understood?”

A great clamour answered him, yellow and wild “Aye aye, cap’n!”. We had gotten our orders, and now we had to ready the ship and ourselves for the sneak attack that would happen tonight.

Check the ropes, clean up, patch clothes… Blades being honed sang a soothing silver song to my ears, and pistols being checked echoed in trembling black. A melody of sounds painted a giant scene before my eyes, of such beauty and anticipation that I found myself to be unusually excited about what was to come.

Then the crew started to sing. I couldn’t join, not having a voice of my own, but I could clap along and watch the mix of greys and blues and pinks and greens, a concertina adding its joyous purple tones to this invigorating ensemble.

I could never talk, but I could always see the colors of the sounds, and feel the emotions of each one. I didn’t need a voice when I had such beauty at the tips on my ears!

And beauty it was, even in this pirate crew, maybe even more because we are pirates. We sing and dance and drink and even the ocean makes constant colors! Orange waves when the wind is calm, very dark brown when the thunder claps, its echoes of chestnut painting a dire scene.

I love the sky-blue laugh of seagulls that accompany us in and out of port, the blur of pinkish hues of the harbour sounds. I can feel the excitement of the gale as it rolls, the fear of a big fish splashing, the joy and freedom of the sails as they clap. I love the sea and the pirate life.

As night started to fall and the moon enlightened the ship with its eerie light, a white rain started to fall, relaxing and sweet, and I felt calm and focused on my task. We blew the lanterns, crouched to position, avoiding making a sound.

The ship glided as silently as it possibly could, only little specks of orange excitement as small waves were broken by the hull could I see. I felt my heart beating faster, an entrancing rhythm as we neared the merchant ship.

We were so close now that I could hear the night crew’s light green chatter, all calm, relaxed, unexpecting. Now was my time. I looked for the captain, found him and gave him the sign that we weren’t discovered.

His bloodthirsty smile was signal enough for the rest of the crew. I took deep breaths, in harmony with the colors of the wind and water, and grabbed my scimitar. It was time. It was starting.