To hear the crew of the Calamitas talk, one might expect Dougal MacNaile to be more (or less) than human. They claim he was born from a cannon and that he breathes blasting powder rather than air. Such fanciful exaggeration aside, MacNaile has crewed big guns longer than anyone else on the ship—and some would say longer than anyone alive on the Meredius.
Many crewmen covet the commission of master gunner without understanding the unforgiving and dangerous nature of the occupation. All sailors know to take care with the volatile blasting powder, but daily contact brings a cumulative chance of mishap. A mistake made wrapping powder charges or packing guns rarely gives a gunner a second chance. The lucky ones lose only a couple of fingers—an impairment men can learn to work around— but all too often such incidents are fatal. Even those who avoid blasting themselves apart usually lose their hearing to the thunderous explosions surrounding them day in and day out.
Although he does often have to ask his men to repeat themselves, MacNaile’s hearing seems otherwise intact, and he happily retains all his fingers and toes. So brazen is this master gunner, in fact, that he walks the deck barefoot. Dougal has defied the odds to become a legend akin to a patron saint of gunners, cloaked in the mystique of having survived countless near fatalities at sea. Each time the dust clears, Dougal jumps to his feet with a whoop before exhorting his deck gunners to load up the next round and deliver some payback.
MacNaile would be hard-pressed to find a better post than the Calamitas. The ship, widely acknowledged as the best-armed privateer vessel sailing today, boasts as many cannons as a first-class ship of the line, and the master gunner rightfully ranks as one of the vessel’s most important officers.