Big Big Sea
The Big Big Sea is the second largest of the three ultra puddles that surround Einwimz, situated to the west of the Blue Ocean and north of the Sploosh. The sea was first mentioned in the Book of Wets, an erotic oceanographical novella, where it is called the Boarbone Sea. The contemporary name was reached by a process of folk etymology and political misunderstanding in the 8th century.
In 1205, a year after the famous sinking of the Atlas of the World, the Big Big Sea entirely froze over and was renamed the Big Big Freeze. The entire population of Einwimz is said to have visited the Big Big Freeze fairs three times over during that winter, according to the poorly funded Einwimz Travel Bureau.
Far Flung Lands
Beyond the Big Big Sea in the furthest nautical direction are the three Far Flung Lands: The Land of Ice, the Land of Lava, and the Land of Poison-Breathing, Shit-Squirting, Dangerously-Electric, Howling-Cakeophobe-Raving Mad-Goats, more commonly known as the Land of Joy. The goats really noof. They measure a whopping 138 on the completely arbitrary Standard Nufometry Scale, 36.3 on the alternative Standard Nufometry Scale Twice Revised, and five elbows plus or minus a tiny muffin on the Arcane Nufometry Scale for Accountants. Some say that on a clear day you can even noof them from the mainland.
The waters immediately adjacent to the three Far Flung Lands are of course packed with sea-nanny-goats in their goatboats. This part of the Big Big Sea is called the Truculent Eddies, and is divided into shipping zones which bear the following names: Hiking, North Smutshire, South Smutshire, Fifties, Crookarty, Lisp, Prong, Hogger, Angler, Herman Bright, Lumber, Themes, Plover, Black, Starboardsea, Laminarse, Biscuit, Nelson, Robert, Huss, Bundy, Slownet, Emerald Sea, Rhiannon, Rollsome, Palin, Shegrooms, Rumpole, Biased Isle, Sheepeyots, and Southeast Lavaland.
The navigation channels marked out on the face of the most nautically navigable region of the Big Big Sea are called, by mostly drunken sailors, the "shig-shags". The shig-shags are known for following very circuitous, confusing, highly contradictory, and sometimes disturbingly dangerous paths from destination to destination. Despite this, no sailor has ever been known to be sober enough to rectify the situation. Moreover, the shig-shags are by now of sufficient antiquity to be considered a protected scheduled ancient monument of Einwimz.
This navigable region of the Big Big Sea is known as the Truculent Eddies.
Federated Isles of Ting
The most significant if not the largest river to run into the Big Big Sea is the Muckle Parva, where the muckle sprouts are bred, and with the small but attractive village of Snittersham at its mouth. To the south of Snittersham is the most southerly region of the Big Big Sea, off the north west shore of Einwimz Magna and adjacent to the Sploosh. This region, deep within the boundaries of the Truculent Eddies, is replete with the Federated Isles of Ting, home to the wild and wonderful Downright Crazy Clock-Makers' Association. Each household owns one island in this large archipelago, and the households federate into a largely autonomous community. The citizens of the isles tend to use a small, easily portable boat called a slingeigh (sometimes mistakenly called a "slingy") to hop from place to place.
The only dangerous waterfowl in the Big Big Sea is the vomit shark. The vomit shark is true waterfowl, a species of bird adapted to the surface of the water, but it comes into its own when diving below to capture its prey, the unassuming and highly adorable keusie-skeuie fish. The vomit shark entices the keusie-skeuie by releasing mating pheromones. It then hypontises the keusie-skeuie by singing a mating lullaby in the wrong key. Once the keusie-skeuie is hypnotised, the vomit shark beats it over the head with a fin which has evolved into the shape of a mallet, and eats its prey. At no point during the process does the vomit shark ever vomit.
The vomit shark was named by a prominent breeder of keusie-skeuie.
The middle region of the Big Big Sea is known for its furmaids. These are, effectively, barmaids gone wrong: instead of trying to serve you bars, they try to serve you fur. And not just any old fur. Mostly their own. So you can see why the middle region of the Big Big Sea is often avoided. The furmaids are situated not far from the Marine Mansion of the Mad Old Maid, within a region known to the locals and everybody else in Einwimz alike as the Truculent Eddies.
The one thing that everybody knows about the Big Big Sea is that one particularly tourist friendly area of it is populated by very polite pirates. They make sure your plank is nice and bouncy before they make you walk it, and the Jolly Roger is never a euphemism for something that happens after sundown behind closed hatches.
Amongst all these lovely polite Lang Jonathans and Colourbeards is the famous and much renowned Floating Monastery of Orbis. As well as being a floating monastery, which in itself is quite a novel as there are only eighty-six other such examples around the coasts of Einwimz, the other outstanding feature is that the grand dome is made entirely from frozen vomit shark oil.
You might be thinking: a monastery (how insightful you are), here (yes?), on the Big Big Sea (quite!), amongst a bunch of fatherflipping pirates? (watch your language, sir or madam!). And yes, you would be quite right to interrogate: for it would seem likely that the pirates would ransack the everfatherflipping-snot out of the monastery. But in one of those whimsical doodahs of circumstance it turns out that the monastery and the pirates have a largely beneficial symbiotic relationship with one another.
Here's how it works.
Pirates need parrots. It is perhaps the most basic necessity, to cover their sundry pirately needs. The monasteries on the other hand mostly just need quiet, and the occasional turnip. Pirates, even though they be nice, are legendary for liking lots of loud volume. "ARRRRR MATEY", they say. "WE BE LOVIN THE LOUD, AARRRRRRR." This is a problem for pirates because the act of copulation between a female and male, treemale and female, or male and treemale parrot is such a delicate act that it can only take place in the uttermost of silences.
So a deal was struck: the Floating Monastery of Orbis, and indeed the whole of the Truculent Eddies in which it is situated, would be a quiet zone, in exchange for breeding parrots. Inject a few turnips from the mainland into the bargain and you have yourself a symbiotic relationship.
The turnip blight of 1522 is something that nobody on the Big Big Sea really likes to talk about. Expect to walk the bounciest of planks if you mention it.
People o' note
The first person to cross the Big Big Sea was, according to the old books, a young girl named Tabitha Spussington. She had been told by her brother that she would never amount to anything, so the next day she stole a boat and headed out to sea with the intention of drowning herself in a pique of melancholy despair. When she came to the Snabulu Islands, she met another young girl just like herself who was in far worse circumstances: she was ill and needed the liquor of a flower which was rumoured in legends to sometimes be brought by birds from a distant land on the other side of the Big Big Sea. The birds had not come that way for decades, and so Spussington decided to put her mission aside for the moment and set off to find the flower. Eventually she reached the Land of Joy, and finding a small spot where the dangerous native goat people rarely came, she went ashore and headed for the first flower that she saw. The seeds of the flower were just like those brought by the birds, and she harvested some and returned back to the young girl on the Snabulu Islands. The young girl was gravely ill, and did not feel better after taking the seeds that Spussington had brought back. Spussington helped to nurse the girl back to health, and within a few days the seeds were doing their job, and slowly but surely the girl retained her full health. Spussington was hailed as a hero, and ever after she divided her time between the mainland and the islands.
The reaction of Spussington's brother is not recorded.
Gyrotus Snagnacius determined in 1160 that the wave patterns of the Big Big Sea were actually a kind of message from the primordial beings of nature. Of course this all turned out to be gigantic hogwash, but Snagnacius was not deterred, and went on to devote several decades to studying and proselytising knowledge of these patterns. He obtained many followers when he published a book explaining how the messages of the Big Big Sea predicted that he would obtain many followers. He subsequently obtained a large house when he published a book explaining how the Big Big Sea predicted that he would obtain a large house. His wife left him when he published a book explaining how the messages of the Big Big Sea predicted that he would obtain many lovers.
He did obtain many lovers, but unfortunately Snagnacius had predicted in one of his earliest books that if the Big Big Sea were ever to freeze over then he would eat his hat. In 1205 he did eat his hat, contracted ergotism, and died. His lovers all pitched in for a memorial, which was duly erected upon the Snagnacius Peaks on the mainland overlooking an area of the Big Big Sea known as the Truculent Eddies. The memorial was subsequently defaced by his estranged wife, but the statue still stands there to this day, sans its genitalia.