Years went by and the island, once a prison, became his home. Yet Blackbeard's longing for the open sea endured. Using salvaged ship remnants, he crafted a small vessel, resolute to sail the perilous waters again.

Within the core of the mighty vessel, concealed by a formidable oak door, lay the captain's quarters. Stepping inside, one was immediately greeted by the alluring scents of tobacco, leather, and sandalwood.

Once ashore in Port Royal, the senses would be greeted by the distinct aromas of citrus, clove, and bay leaf, a signature welcome

Whether it was real or a tale spun in taverns, nonetheless sailors steered clear of the winter waters east of Montserrat, haunted by the prospect of that notorious black sail on the horizon.