„The little reportage"

The little reportage

I was strolling around Sopot in search of muses; I went to a bar. Because of my depression, I wanted to drink something stronger and ordered grog.
I drank my glass when the door opened and the captain entered. He pointed at me and said briefly:
- I need a seaman*.
The glass fell out of my hand; I allowed myself to express a slight objection:
- I am only a modest reporter, a contemporary and sensitive man.
- No problem Take away your belongings, son, and hurry up - said the captain.
Less than an hour later, despite the furious storm, I was already in the high seas.
- Where are we going? - I asked a jagged kuternog, whose task was to take care of barrels of rum; the only answer I got was a mysterious and disturbing gleam in his eye.
Somebody called me to „reef the foresail", but I replied that I do not understand, and hid behind one of the barrels. I decided that before I join the battle, I will look for some bandage. I tried to get the language where the first aid kit was, but the crew was so busy with the fencing that I gave up and went back to my dry corner.(...)
I woke up on an unknown beach, surrounded by junk. I understood that the ship sank. It seems there was a captain's cap next to me, who was not as lucky as I was. "Dumb has luck" - I thought.
I woke up on some beach, surrounded by junk. I understood that the ship sank. It seems there was a captain's cap next to me, who was not as lucky as I was. "Dumb has luck" - I thought. Fortunately, a moment later I met the editor-in-chief passing the beach and immediately narrated him all this amazing adventure.
*Side note - in Polish seaman word majtek, also in plural mean panties.