The masts of the port towered above the steeples of the churches. Portsmouth harbor was filled with ships of all sort, the most impressive of which were those colossal shows of power, those Man of War ships that holds the imagination of every boy. Adventure laid beyond the mouth of that harbor. Excitement filled the hearts of the men who went aboard those ships, even going so far as to volunteer! Crisp uniforms, military rigor, and missions vital to the life of the homeland.

None of that was befitting of this mission to the small island of Tahiti. The ships mast did not tower above the steeples, for it was but a 91 foot frigate. The men were volunteering, sure, but they were not of the noble sort in the slightest. There would be no crisp uniforms, the admiralty deemed this mission a “grocery run” across the Atlantic! All that this mission was supposed to do was bring back some breadfruit and establish positive relationships with the natives. Appointed was Captain Eridan de Ruiter, a young and stern man of Dutch aristocratic background. Ambitious though he was, he had never sailed a ship before. This would be his first mission, a mission he deemed far below him. He was not even given a proper officer staff to maintain discipline on the ship. Snubbed though he was, he still held it in his head that somehow, someway, he would be able to turn that island into not just a friendly breadfruit farm, but another slice of the Empire.

Onboard that 91 foot chamber pot was a variety of diverse men. Friar, a drunken wife-beater, was a stout, chubby, and short man. He beat the hell out of his wife, both her womb and her body, and did the same to his daughter and any whore that had the misfortune of crossing his path.

Johnson, a brutish oaf, stood nearly seven feet tall. His oaky tan and boorish demeanor revealed a rather sluggish character, though he was cherished by the men for his animal like demeanor, whether it be his puppy-esc stupidity, or his oxen-like strength.

Barry and Barnes, two brothers who brought about mischief also were on the ship. Their intentions were to escape the law after gang-banging a vast list of women who made the mistake to venture out alone. Robbing them, breeding them, and tossing them to the streets was their usual gig, but the heat was growing to be a bit too much. So, rather than letting their lanky figures be hung from the ropes, they instead opted to join the first voyage they saw.

The last of the notable figures aboard was the most important one. A gardener. A young brat, impish, and short. His blond hair and sniggering snicker seemed ubiquitous, especially in the bedrooms of whores. Though he did not discriminate between a whore or a lady, nor a bedroom and an alleyway. Christian Fletcher was an expert in the field of botany, as well as breeding. If he had not been assigned to this ship as punishment he would likely still be running a mock. Flattering floozies in their gardens until they ended up in some bushes, where he’d use that log of a cock of his to break those women in and make them his!

It was this colorful cast of men that made it across the Atlantic. They did not get along, Captain Ruiter was hated by everyone for his proclivity towards cruelty, making the men work out constantly, resulting in the bulking of their already powerful sailor bodies, the increase in levels of testosterone, and the constant musk of male sex to linger in the air.