Chains broken

A storm in the Caribbean. A terrible storm. The slave ship was thrown from one wave to another.

"This ship will go down. A hole in the hull. Chains broken."

"We'll swim free. Slaves no longer."

"We'll settle on an island. We'll start our own place ..."

"We'll call ourselves the Garifuna."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I don't like it."

"The Trayorays."

"Yuch."

"The Jabartays."

"Never."

Then there was a fight. Tooth and nail. Blood and murder. Ears bitten off, eyes gouged. As this was happening the storm ended. The ship sailed free and continued on under a calm moon. The fight faltered. Calm, calm and depression, settled over the hold.

"The Garifuna then."

Silence.

"I still don't like it."