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Somewhere in the Sea of Storms, the beginning of 619

Every good mariner knows how ominous it is celebrating the beginning of the year on a ship… the Gods of the Sea or Poseidon, Sol or Prometheus  (according to whom do you ask to) may consider it an affront and pay back with contrary winds and bad luck.
For this reason, sometimes a captain decides to moor his ship in a secluded bay of a desert island, just to celebrate something with his men.

In this case, Captain Dufrene decided to land on a little islet to celebrate the Merrynight and the beginning of 619 (more or less on the right date, even if rats had eaten his diary a couple of weeks before). And, since he felt a little nostalgic and didn't want to begin another year in a foreign land, decided to claim that vast land to the crown of Oleon. 

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"In the name of our graceful King Phil, I claim this island to the crown! Now bring the rum, Matthew… for once we can celebrate the beginning of the year in our motherland! Stephen, as new minister of the crabs of this new colony, it's your duty to provide a decorated tree!"

"But captain… were can I find a tree?"

"Use your imagination!"

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At last they found a tree… or something similar: they covered a oar with some seaweed, and hung some brass beads (always useful if you commerce with the natives) on it. Nobody cared if it wasn't exactly the right day, or if that land wasn't exactly Oleon: 619 would have surely been their good year, they were sure, and opening their best bottle of rum was more than appropriate.
Some cups of rum, a couple of merry songs and then the men left the islet. That year would have been the good one, thought Captain Dufrene, looking at the waves slowly covering his ephemeral colony, surely better than the miserable 618 and than the flea-bitten 617. And, otherwise… who cared? 

"Bow towards Tortuga, lazybones! They say that rum is cheap and women are cheerful on that island! Have you got barnacles in your ears, slackers? Move! I think we all deserve a little holiday… and, by the way, merry 619!"

The islet

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The newly acquired subjects, at least until the next tide

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