The McDonald's McCrispy. Chicken perfection. It's crispy, juicy, and oh, so tender. And you can't forget the delicious creamy mayo and the... Oh, what was I saying? Right. The McCrispie. Too good to ignore. Served after 11am. Subject to availability. Content warning. This episode contains a depiction of a suicide. Log of the Demeter. 3rd August. At midnight, I went to relieve the man at the wheel, and when I got to it, found no one there.
The wind was steady, and as we ran before it, there was no urine. I dared not leave it, so shouted for the mate. After a few seconds, he rushed up on deck in his flannels. He looked wild-eyed, haggard, and I greatly fear his reason has given way. He came close to me and whispered hoarsely with his mouth to my ear as though fearing the very air might hear. It is here. I know it now. On the watch last night, I saw it like a man. Tall and thin and ghastly pale. It was in the palace and...
Looking out, I crept behind it and gave it my knife, but the knife went through it, empty as the air. And as he spoke... He took his knife and drove it savagely into space. Then he went on. But it is here. And I'll find it. It is... In the hold, perhaps in one of those boxes. I'll unscrew them one by one and see. You'll work the hell. And with a warning look and his finger on his lip, he went below.
There was springing up a choppy wind and I could not leave the helm. I saw him come out on deck again with a tool chest and a lantern and go down the forward hatchway. He is mad. Stark, raving mad. And it's no use my trying to stop him. You can't hurt those big bobsies. They are invoiced as clay. And to pull them about is as harmless a thing as he can do. So here I stay and mind the helm and write these notes. I can only trust in God.
And wait till fog clears then. If I can't steer to any harbour with the wind that is, I shall cut down sails and lie by. And signal for help. It is nearly all over now. Just as I was beginning to hope that the mate would come out calmer, for I heard him knocking away at something in the hole, and work is good for him. There came up the hatchway a sudden startled scream.
which made my blood run cold, and up on the deck he came, as if shot from a gun, a raging madman with his eyes rolling and his face convulsed with fear. Save me! Save me! He cried. then looked round on the blanket of fog. His horror turned to despair, and in a steady voice, he said, You had better come too, Captain, before it is too late. He is there. I know the secret now. The sea will save me from him, and it is all that he's left. Before I could say a word, or move forward to seize him...
He sprang on the bullock and deliberately threw himself into the sea. I suppose I know the secret too now. It was this madman. who got rid of the men one by one and now he has followed them himself. God help me. How am I to account for all these horrors when I get to port? When I get to port. Will that ever be? Mina Murray's journal, 3rd of August. Another week gone and no news from Jonathan, not even to Mr Hawkins from whom I have heard. Oh, I do hope he is not ill.
He surely would have written. I look at that last letter of his, but somehow it does not satisfy me. It does not read like him. And yet it is his writing. There is no mistake of that. Lucy has not walked much in her sleep the last week, but there is an odd concentration about her which I do not understand. Even in her sleep, she seems to be watching me. She tries the door and, finding it locked, goes about the room, searching for the key.
Alistair Stewart as the captain of the Demeter, Sivan Ghaz as the mate, and Isabel Aramako-Young as Mina Murray. Dialogue editing by Steven Indrasano, sound design by Tal Muneer. Produced by Ella Watts and Pacific S. Obadiah, with executive producers Stephen Andressano, Tal Manir, and Hannah Wright. A Bloody FM production.