A ship has one commander - the oldest rule of the sea. Let him rot in hell, then, this Colonel Fortesque - a country squire wrapped in khaki and medals.
If he reaches shore, he won't be looking for the sharp blade on a moonlit night behind a quayside tavern.
Not the first man I've wrapped in a sail, and won't be the last. Dark deeds under a silver sky. But will he last that long?
I am captain of this ship and I'll take her to the sea bed beofre I bow to 'Colonel' Fortesque. Tomorrow I will not be denied. Tomorrow I will see the secret cargo smuggled aboard by those marching apes.
There are storms ahead... Fortesque has no idea how heavy those storms may be.