#49 – If God Wills It – Kira C. Jacobs

One of the most cunning pirates of the sixteenth century never revealed her identity.  She was quick, smart, with a lively tongue and skill for lying.   She was often referred to as “Dieu-Le-Veut” meaning, “God wills it”–because no matter what her endeavor, what her scheme, or what trickery she employed to achieve it, she was never caught–as if God willed it.

She would often disguise herself as a singer, or an entertainer, enchanting the sailors with her song and dance.  Her red scarves would swish and dance around her and her lilting voice would draw in sailors and sea creatures alike.  Through these clever means, she would gain entry on board ships, ne’er raising suspicion from fellow pirates and buccaneers–as if God willed it.

For a time, she would live among the sailors, work among the sailors and entertain on deck–but if she was left alone, or a crew sought to advance upon her, she would promptly rip her entertainers garb from her body revealing men’s clothing: breeches, boots, and weaponry.  Her cutlass and daggers, cleverly hidden beneath her plentiful skirts, would leap and dance, just as her scarf had, succumbing her every opponent–as if God willed it.

After one such hostile takeover of a ship, after all of the pirates had walked the plank and swam away towards a nearby shore, she was enjoying the lone control of the ship, the wind blowing through her hair, the dolphins swimming alongside the ship, the seagulls pooping on the deck.  When she heard something:

“Achoo,” she listened closely.  “Achoo,” she listened closer.  “Achoo, Achoo, Achoo!”  A barrel on deck shook side to side, slowly tilted to a halt.

“Is someone in there?” she rapped the barrel with her cutlass.


She was aghast.   She has missed one–how had she let this happen?  Well this would not do…

“Get out of the barrel!”

“No, thank you.”

“Get out of the barrel!”

“I don’t think so.”

Well…this would not do.  She rapped the barrel with her cutlass again–RAP RAP RAP.

She poked her daggers through the slits of the barrel–SWISH SWISH SWISH.

When that didn’t work, she tipped the barrel on its side and rolled it all over the deck to get that lone man out of that barrel–but nothing worked.

Exhausted, she went to bed for the night, thinking a man in a barrel maybe wouldn’t be too bad.  So she went about her business–but the next morning…she was aghast.

“Get out of the crow’s nest!”

“No, thank you.”

So she shimmied up the mast, she threw daggers into the sky, to no avail.  So she went about her business.  That night she was exhausted and decided having a man in a crow’s nest may not be so bad.  But the next day…

“Get out of my Captain’s quarters!!”

“No, thank you.”

So she tried to knock down the door, she tried to climb in the windows–but to no avail.  So she went about her business.  That night she was exhausted and decided that having a man in the Captain’s quarters might not be so bad.

Day in and day out the man would meander the ship, hiding when necessary, but always nearby…

“Get out of this!”  “Get out of that!”

Until one day he sat with her, another he ate with her, another he danced with her, and another he fought alongside her.  That night, she went to bed exhausted thinking, maybe having a man in her life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

To this day we remain without her identity and she remains with her love–as if God willed it.

~ Kira C. Jacobs, Provo, Utah

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