"Listen ye well, young masters," the old salt drew forward in his chair, his sudden seriousness a stark contrast to the lighthearted air he'd held while regaling them a mere moment earlier. “There're things out in the depths that'd make a man piss 'imself at the mere mention of their name.”

“Aye, the Kraken. Leviathan. We've heard those stories before, Cap'n. Everyone from the powder monkies to Auld Gran back home seems to think we're new to those tales.”

“I ain't talkin' 'bout them!” the Captain growled. Then, with a sigh, he calmed himself. “Those may be flesh, may be fable. I know not, for I ain't seen 'em. I do know what I seen ain't a mere story, though.”

The young men were intrigued now. They drew closer to the graybeard, thankful for his place near the fire; the chill of his words made them shiver. The pair watched him light his pipe with an ember held in a pair of tongs. “Well, go on then,” the slightly younger one beckoned.

The old salt took a long sip of his pipe before beginning: “It was, oh, 'bout forty years ago by my reckon. I weren't much older than the two of yous. We were crossing the 'Lantic. I don't know where- I'd no mind of navigation at the time. I just know we were three days of good wind off the Carolinas. We were plyin' along, makin' good time, when all the sudden the ship stopped. I was thrown to the deck as if a rug had been yanked from under me. Nearly bit off me tongue.

'Reef!' someone cried, but it was more a question than anythin' else.

'Ain't no reefs here, boys!' the cap'n called, but he was just as confused as all o' us.

Then, from up in the crow's nest, me friend Whitby yells that there's two islands to either side of us. So, I grab the rail and hove meself up to peer starb'rd. Sure as salt in seawater, I see not just an island, but a full mountain pokin' out the waves... 'Least, that's what I thought at first.” The old man's voice trailed away, and he took another sip of the spicy smoke emanating from his pipe.

“They were tall, dark, but smooth,” he began again. “Couldn't see no beach. 'Course, I assumed it was just the waves and distance hidin' the strand. I looked up to see me cap'n checkin' his charts, cursin', blasphemin' and the like. Woulda turned the cheeks of you two redder 'n an apple, and put hair on your chests just as well.” The young men smiled a bit at the humor, but the old man never released his hard grimace.

“'We're on some kind of shore, cap'n!' someone called. I looked o'erboard and saw that it was true; we were caught upon a shallow that appeared to be the same dun-gray color as the mountains. Now boys, I know sharkskin when I see it, and I seen it then. I couldn't believe it meself, but 'twas true. Before I could say anythin' though, me breath was stole away; those mountains were sinkin' 'neath the waves as I watched! They went down as smoothly as a dolphin, no wakes, no foam, no splash... Just down. The ship lurched, and again we were all thrown onto the deck like nothing more than tin soldiers. Less so, as we were about to learn!” The captain was slowly becoming frantic now, his voice growing in strength, beer-spittle spraying at his crescendos. The pair of men were enraptured. Truly, this was a story new to their ears.

“The ship was moving backward, against the wind, against our headin'. We were floatin' free, for when I looked back o'er the rail, the sharkskin-sandbar was gone. After awhile, the good winds tugged our sails enough to slow us to a stop. We were all prayin' it would keep, hopin' to be rid of these strange islands, and mountains, and sandbars... but somethin' began to rise from the depths behind us. I reckon we all had a thought to run to the aft to watch, but that thing was comin' up so quick we didn't need to. God, we dared not move when we saw it! The sheer size dwarfed the boat... and still it rose! She rose!” He took on a thousand-yard stare, glancing from one listener to another while his tale went on.

“As if it were a mass of hair or the hood of a cloak, her head bore fins that traveled down the rest of her body; their tips were the mountains I'd seen curling out of the water. Her eyes were the abyss. Her mouth, a whirlpool. Gills flexed at her neck, pairs of slits that stood out against skin as pale as an iceberg. And she was enormous! Already she reached to heaven, but higher and higher she rose, sargassum sloughing off in great sheets, first blocking out the wind, and then the sun. We sailors could do naught but stare. However, a thought breached the walls of my stupor. Her form became recognizable to me in that instant: a manta ray! My eyes beheld the gigantic, impossible, abominable body of a half-woman, half-manta!” His volume was unavoidable now. Other faces in the pub were turning toward the old man, either intrigued by his story or disdainful at the mad gleam in his eyes that shone brighter and brighter with every sentence.

“How big was she?” someone asked.

“Oh, she was larger than anythin' ye can imagine! She towered over us as a goddess, and she wasn't even halfway surfaced! We were naught but specks before her, our ship no larger than a coin between her fingers! Her gullet could down us as easily as you down a cherry! Her breath could fill our sails without effort! Thirty men could dine upon her teat!”

There were some whistles and cheers at the mention of breasts. “What did she do?” came another voice, finally.

“She only looked upon us like one would an exotic bug. Curiosity dwelt behind those terrible black eyes, but still we were frozen in place, our minds reelin' from the shock of her. After awhile, she began to sink back to the depths. Her spread fins released the sun, and then gave us back the wind. When her head sank out of view, our sails fin'ly billowed, and we were back on our headin'. The crew never spoke of it again... not for the whole trip, and not after! When we made port many a-man refused to ever ply the seas again. I surely considered it meself...” The cap'n grew silent, except for the puffing of his pipe.

“What a crock of shit!” The younger boy cried. “You expect us to believe that? A giant cunt in the water that's half-manta ray? She didn't even do anything worth telling the story over!”

The old salt's eyes took on a white fury hotter than the flame he sat beside. “Believe it whether ye will or will not, young master! I know what I saw! Ye cannae ev'n imagine it! Ye who would stand witless before an elephant! Ye who would swoon at the height of a redwood! Not a story worth tellin'? Pah! Thank your stars I tell you of it now! Thank God for us all that she's out there and not here! Can ye imagine the sheer terror of such a creature loomin' over you? Blottin' out the sun and stars and clouds and wind, fishes and seagrass rainin' down in the cascades off her fins because the poor critters couldn't escape the sheer size of her? Thank God that she is placid! I have seen the ancient tomes that preach of her wrath! I have read the Liber Oceani! 'She will rise from the depths, and in her terrible anger her name shall be Mobula!' She would wipe away this port with a single hand! She would crush cities in mere minutes! Were her will so, our nation would sink beneath the tsunamis wrought by her fins! Can ye imagine it? No! For you have not seen! Oh God, I beg ye she remain in her depths!”

“Captain Frederick, enough!” the harsh cry of the barwoman cut through his madness like a knife. “You have had far too much to drink for one night!” she marched over and seized up the old man in a burly arm.

“Not drunk! Ye all be blind! I have seen! I have seen! Believe me!” he spat, nearly foaming at the mouth, while a few strong men helped carry him to an upstairs room. The old man twisted in their grasp, and cried animal growls as madness overcame him fully. His final words before a door silenced him were “Oh, Mistress Mobula! I beseech you appear and prove me truthful! Awe and terrify as you have to me!” Then, it was over. The pub returned to an air of mumbling conversation.

“What a loon,” the younger man said to his friend. “What do you think, Calvin?”

The older of the pair stayed silent. Such a tale was truly fantastical... but there was something in the old man's eyes. Something about his passion, and the fury with which he'd related the story struck Calvin to his core. “I... I don't know. He seemed sincere enough.”

The younger man scoffed. “Every madman is sincere to himself. I bet everything he told us tonight was bollocks. At least the pirates and cannibals were believable enough, but that last one was, quite frankly, ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” was all Calvin could reply. He leaned back from the fire and laid his head upon the cold glass window. Thunder rattled the pane; a signal that the storm was growing in its severity. Through the pouring sheets of rain, he watched as a distant wave crested, appearing as though a mountain jutting from the sea.