All dried up they was. Desiccated, that's the word the Cap'n used. Like all the blood had been sucked out of ‘em and left their skin stretched tight over their bones. The 'ands was a layin' in their 'ammocks or on the deck and the Captain and his officers was sittin' round the table in the cabin. All of them ‘ad the same look. As though they'd seen somethin' so terrifiyin' so ‘orrible that it ‘ad froze their faces like screamin' death masks.

Cap'n Jack bade us go and search the ship, sent us in pairs to go and see if any poor sod might be still alive to tell the tale of what'd ‘appened to the crew of the Black Dog.

T'was our sister ship; a fine, single masted sloop. She could out run the bastard navy cutters and, with her topsail hoisted, she could dance around those treasure galleons, playin' them a merry dance while we slid up on her in our Cap'ns best ship, the Brigantine, Jack's Pride.

Twenty of us paired off and searched the Black Dog, fore and aft. Not one live sea dog did we find. The Cap'n stood on the quarterdeck a sniffin' the wind and scratchin' ‘is ‘ead.

‘Tis a terrible mystery we have here me boyos. All hands as dried as salt beef and not a clue to the cause of such a disaster.'

We all looked to the Cap'n but stole nervous glances round the decks. When we squinted to look up into the riggin' a few ‘ands made signs of the cross. The ropes seemed to be covered in a tangle of somethin' white. We stared, wary like, to the open cargo hatch, keepin' one ‘and on our cutlasses. A sudden movement at the edge of the hatch and we drew weapons as a man.

‘Hold hard there lads, whatever it is we' 'ave it outnumbered,' ordered the first mate, Ben Stiller. He stepped closer to the cargo hold, his dirk flashing into his hand quick as yer like. He shot out his other 'and and grabbed' 'old of somethin'. T'was a man ‘ee pulled out on to the deck, least ways, it could ‘ave bin. Looked more like a bunch o dirty rags with an arm stickin' out, fingers all white and claw like.

The Cap'n strode over and poked at the poor creature with ‘is boot.

‘What's your name swab? What are you doing still alive when the rest of your mates are dead and shrivelled all through the ship? Tell us for God's sake man, tell us what has befallen your Captain and crew.'

Cap'n Jack's attention was all on the pitiful sight before him and he did not notice, as I did, that the two crimps, Falmer and Babbage ‘ad slipped back into the main cabin. I watched out of the corner of my eye, no doubt they were up to no good!

Discontents they were. Press ganged at the last port, the best of a lary bunch of convicts and vagabonds which inhabited a small group of islands that served as a pirate haven in these Caribbean waters. Freed slaves, greedy traders and buccaneers all jostling for the measly bits of treasure that passed from hand to hand by honest transaction or thievery. A ship could rest up there after a raid. The men would find a wench or two and a bath, grog and meatA place fer resting or debauching before the next voyage.

The one live sailor, now huddled in a heap at Cap'n Jack's feet was gibberin' and cryin' like a mad man. Through ‘is tears 'ee babbled out 'is story.

‘The island, it was covered with ‘em. In our faces, all on our arms and legs, tangled.........

Six of us went in the long boat for food and to see if any one was livin' there. We found some fruit, shot a coupla birds . We ‘eard singin'. Up near the scrawny trees at the edge of the beach there was a clearin'. There was some women sittin' round some sort of big baskets. They was chantin'. That scurvy bastard Bates, he said as' ow we should take the women, could be weeks before we get ‘ome. Weird women they was. Covered in tattoos of spider's webs. They didn't fight us an' we was quick. They just carried on chantin'. It was getting dark. After we was done we saw them open their baskets as we went a bit further into the trees, and then..........

....'Orrible, crawlin' things. Spiders, sticky webs, clingin' in our ‘air, our mouths. We ran fer the boat, brushin' and battin' the things away. Fred was bit..........The bosun, ‘ee got bit too, on the arm. Squashed the bugger, huge they was.........we got back to the ship, doused ourselves with water. The sawbones, ‘ee looked at the bites, smeared ‘em in tar. Fred and the Bosun, they got a fever and died right quick, that night. We slipped ‘em into Davey Jones locker and thought that was an end to it.'

He started to cry and wail again. An answering scream came from the Captain's cabin.

Falmer and Babbage burst through the door and fell onto the deck. Their faces wore the same ‘orrified look as the dead crew. It was plain that they‘d 'bin after the treasure chest, Doubloons spewed out of their shirts as they writhed around on the planks, clawin at their faces and arms.

‘Bit,' they screamed,' we's bin bit, they're in there, crawlin' out of the mates' eyes and mouths, out of the Cap'ns ears, get off the ship, they're comin'.

The two men groped their way to the side of the ship and leapt. It became clear to us that the certainty of drownin' was better than dyin' from whatever had got this ships crew.

A gurglin' and a rattling noise 'ad us turnin' to see the swab from the cargo hold in ‘is death throes. We crossed ourselves then an' watched in horror. 'Is skin wriggled and writhed ‘an ‘ee thrashed out ‘is end with a pleadin' look in ‘is eyes.

The Cap'n drew his sword an ran ‘ im through.

Terror struck our 'earts as we saw spiders crawl out of the man and skitter across the deck t'wards us.

‘Back to our ship boys,' shouted Cap'n Jack. He was stampin' on the creatures as he ran an' we followed as if all the 'ounds of hell was at our ‘eels. The black spiders swarmed over the deck an' up the railin's as we jumped and swung to our ship. When we was safe aboard the Cap'n gave the order to make sail and pull away from the Black Dog.

‘Is any of you bit lads? ‘ He shouted. To a man we shook our ‘eads.

‘Nay Cap'n.'
‘No Sir.'

Cap'n Jack shook his ‘ead and ordered fire arrows to be dispatched to destroy the ship of death and told the second mate to break out the bumboo fer we all needed a drink ta calm us after the horror of what ‘ad occurred.

T'was the Cap'n, slappin' at 'is neck as 'ee raised 'is mug, made us realise that our troubles were not over.....