Captain Walrus is a work of fiction told in fragments, log entries, crew memos, passive-aggressive charts, and cruise brochures that wildly overpromise and confidently underdeliver.

If you’ve ever worked on a ship, managed a team, navigated immigration, endured corporate onboarding, or been emotionally bruised by an HR feedback form, parts of this may feel uncomfortably familiar.

The story follows The Emperor: a ship of moderate grandeur and questionable plumbing. Its crew consists of professionals quietly unraveling at sea, reluctant philosophers wondering how they got here, and one cadet with the gentle optimism of someone who still believed “learning on the job” meant someone would teach you.

This isn’t a maritime thriller. It’s not a leadership manual. There’s no clear mission. It’s not even particularly well organized.

Just duct tape, coffee rituals, the occasional existential monologue about penguins, inflatable kayaks, and organizational entropy.