Continuing the final write ups of the final of the 2021-22 campaigns on post apocalyptic tenerific Dave pulls out the stops writing as his community leader dreaming of mainland Spain Papagonzalo.
El diaro de Papagonzalo Lopez de Alcazar
Voy a cambiar de español a catalán para esta entrada ya que no creo que nadie más hable catalán.
Well, things definitely took a turn for the worse last week with those New Roman lunatics, I thought Benny was a goner for sure. I don’t think anyone has told him that it was actually Harry who shot him by mistake (that boy should not be holding a gun, he doesn’t have the heart for it as he is a lover, not a fighter). Benny’s arm looks pretty mangled, not sure how that’s going to heal up. Looks like it’s going to be months of recovery for him, so he is going to have to take on some young’uns as apprentices to start showing them the ropes on how to keep the ship going. Harry isn’t doing well either, he took a shot to his chest.
I think the angels were perched on our shoulders as nobody died, but that last escapade was a very close run thing. Personally, I think we should chuck these Roman wannabes they brought back right over the side of the ship and not look back. The others don’t want too though. It’s nice they are good people, but good people end up dead these days. Morals and scruples are just anchors around the neck now to drag you down.
So, with that behind us, I decided to sail slow and easy so Benny and Harry can had a chance to heal up. We can’t have them laid up for too long, we have to keep this ship in working order and find some more fuel. We also need to find more and better weapons. Only a madman or a suicidal idiot takes on assault rifles with spears and swords. Thank god Cesar knows how to use that rifle and is willing to use it when necessary. With a little encouragement, I think he can learn to do the right thing and shoot first, ask questions later. He might live a little longer if he does.
Despite our last encounter with the New Romans we have decided to see if we could cut a deal with them. We could do some trade between Gran Canaria and Tenerife and maybe establish ourselves as an independent trading company. We put the Roman prisoners down in the bilges to keep them out of sight since Harry and Cesar wouldn’t let me throw them overboard to dance with the tiberon. Honestly, those boys are too nice. I didn’t survive 30 years after the fall by being nice.
With some smooth talking from me, we negotiated a deal to go looking for items they were looking for, such as spare parts for heavy machinery, using their surplus grain for the exchanges. The New Romans will pay us in fuel for the ferry, which we need so I can get us to Spain and away from these godforsaken islands. We will have some competition from the other people they use (like some nutters we saw in yellow shirts with blue hearts), but they mostly have smaller ships and go for trade in slaves. The others morality showed up front and centre again and they made it clear they didn’t want us to do the same and I am absolutely, definitely, totally against transporting slaves (unless necessary, nudge, nudge, wink, wink). Dear lord, I’m sure these boys will be the death of me.
We’re going to have to go to the various ferry terminals to be able to load up the ferry with the items the New Romans want, which will somewhat limit us. So, we headed to Puerto los Cristianos as our first port of call and Cesar saw some raven flags flying as we approached. With some trepidation, since I ran over and sunk the Viking ship we saw before (those bastards totally deserved it), Cesar and I went in the small launch into the port to parlay with the locals.
Putting my new raccoon hat firmly upon my brow, we strode up to the Viking lookouts who took us into their camp. We met Frida, the leader of the Ragnarok Vikings (yet another completely insane group of idiots) and found out they were mourning the loss of their family and friends at sea. Such a sad tale, which had me chuckling inside as I remembered the screams of those morons drowning. We agreed to make a trade of New Roman grain for some old vehicles, parts, and tools they had.
While Cesar and I were away doing the deal, a small ship came alongside the ferry, but Harry and Benny were keen eyed and spotted them. Brandishing our water hoses, they made sure these losers were dissuaded from trying anything on and convinced them that we weren’t slavers or cannibals (yet, haha!).
We headed back to New Rome with the vehicles for them and started pondering our next move on what I like to call Papagonzalo’s wondrous floating emporium (I may need to work on the name). I still need to figure out how to get rid of those two stupid New Roman prisoners.