It was near the midnight hour when I crept, stealthily, from the luxury stateroom, of the steam ship, Bonne Chance, that I shared with my sixteen year old sister, Mathilde, and my father Andre, to walk out on the deck of the ship. There were three steps between the corridor which led to the staterooms, and the open deck. The second one made a loud and scratchy creaking noise as I gingerly put my weight up on it. I froze, expecting Papa to come barreling out of the room, demanding to know what I was doing, where I was going. I waited several moments for him to make an appearance but when he did not, I continued on my way. The moonlight had beckoned to me through the small porthole above my bed, and, even though Papa had already chastised me about the impropriety of a young woman on the deck, alone, after dark, I, uncharacteristically, ignored his warnings, wrapped my long midnight blue silk cloak over my nightgown, and ventured out. The moon was full, as I had imagined it would be, and its reflection on the sea was stunning. Visual poetry. Usually an obedient child, I felt only a modicum of guilt for my infraction. This sparkling, effervescent, moonlight demanded attention. It was as if it had summoned me by name. And the millions of stars in the sky had echoed that call. It might be a once in a lifetime opportunity, I told myself, as I pushed my father's words of warning to the back of my mind. By the time the next full moon made its appearance, we would be in Charleston, and I would be only a few weeks from my wedding.... who knew when I might get another chance to experience the enchantment of the moon shimmering on the ocean, again? Who knew if Monsieur Patie and I would be crossing the ocean anytime soon... if ever? I had never been a rebellious teenager, nor an errant daughter, I trusted my father fully, trusted that the advice he gave was always with my best interests in his heart... but, just this one time, disobedience was necessary... I had to see this moon. I had to be part of this moment. In the future I would think back about those minutes, as I lay quietly in my bed, debating in my mind, whether I should follow Papa's instructions, stay put, or disobey his very strict orders and venture out on my own. I would wonder what might have happened, how things would have been different, if I had only stayed in my bed that fateful evening. But it was not a question that would ever be answered. The fact was, I did get up, I did creep gingerly across our stateroom, carefully avoiding waking my snoring father and my sister. I did go out on the deck. I was compelled to see that moon. Experience it. And ultimately, that compulsion, that rare but momentary lapse in judgement would change the course of my entire life. I walked quietly across the deck, taking in the beautiful imagery, inhaling the enchantment of the moment as completely as I inhaled the smell and the taste of salt-water in the air. I listened to the sound of the ship cutting through the waves, the gentle roar of the steam engine below which was accompanied by a rhythmic cacophony with the snores of the lookout who had gone asleep in the eagle's nest above. I walked to the edge of the railing, stood still, luxuriating in the powerful assault on my senses. I could have stood there for hours. Some unexplainable precognition told me it was a moment in time that I would always remember, and I bask in it... but after only a very few minutes, I became chilled. My body began to shiver from the cool, damp air. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself trying to ward off the cold, reluctant to go back inside. But, practical, as I had always been, and not wanting to arrive in Charleston in three days, sick with the consumption, I turned regretfully, to walk back to my cabin. And, when I turned, I caught the shock of my life, as, for the first time, I saw a pirate ship, slowly, ominiously, creeping up beside us.