A tiny boat containing six people roughly bumped its way on to the shore of Isla del Risa, muttering to herself and nose deep in what she assumed was a treasure map (The big black cross was a major giveaway) the newly ordained Captain of the Farragut scowled and glare up the beach.

Jumping out of the now still and moored boat, Pasha looked for the defining rock that would imply the entrance to some of the finest treasure in all of the world. She was looking for a rock shaped like a triangle. So where was the little bugger?