The Commodore's Final Voyage
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You climb the hill, headed towards the ocean. An old man is sitting there, smoking his pipe. "Been awhile, it has been." he says quietly. "Since what?" you ask.

"Eh? Since the commodore stepped free from the Dutch, laddie... We all slipped ashore in dories, but he insisted on staying with the Snitch, and they got him. I still hear his voice every day. Ten long years he spent inside, with only the rats for company. Why they didn't hang him, I don't know. Would have been kinder, it would have." The old salt knocks his pipe against his wooden leg. "He sent word to me, my commodore did, "I'm off to challenge Mr. Jones for what he done to me-- a gentleman's duel; first blood only -- and if I win, we'll set sail once more." I came as fast as my bad leg would let me, but they told me he climbed up here and was never seen again."

The old mate's eyes mist over so you leave him be and continue on towards the worn path circling the pitted and weathered stone table at the top. Clearly, the salty air erodes both men and stone.

E1 J3
F3D5
J9G3
B1B9
C5B1
H1E7
D1F5
F2I7
I8G2
H3A4
C1H1
F5C4
G3F7
F7H4
D5I5
C2E1
A3E3
J3J6
B9C5
I5J5