The ghost captain Charles Leech was a fierce one, he was. Using his transparent specter of an arm, he caused an Caribbean typhoon with one punch. That’s when I, a mighty pirate called Guy, spilled some voodoo vinegar onto the ex-captain, ending his reign of ghostly terror forever.
I moved bright things from ship to ship. For years I buried each in the sand for later. Islands, bones, and weathered boards came and went beneath my feet. The only thing I carried with me all the while was loneliness and the sharp edges of time, emptiness, and steel.
My old Captain, Barnknuckles, made me walk the plank for bringing her aboard. As I stood over my watery death, she jumped on his face, clawing and hissing. Turns out Captain had a severe allergy.
After his death, it was unanimous I be Captain and she my first mate!
The hardest part was breaking the news to Polly that it was over. The parrot I’d picked up in port the day before was a better fit in so many ways, but Polly and I had a history. And, frankly, she knew where the bodies were buried. Literally.
Never thought myself a pirate but opportunity arose the day The Cormorant arrived in town to retrieve their sunken treasure. They were unaware that Lake Ronkonkoma was bottomless so they were in need of a crew after 4 men drown and 1 was executed for poor planning.
Captain Laurie Braes traveled to San Francisco. A day of discovered emeralds carved from the shifting sand beneath her feet – an hour more and it was the eve of the original 826. She gave the flagship store a key and bay good health on the wealth of stories to come.
My pirate career was hitting a brick wall. It all began when the enormous octopus capsized our ship. As I tried to keep my head above water I was eye to eye with this eight legged beast. Ever since I have been unable to swim in the sea.
Falling overboard. Scary business. Impact can kill. As I fell from yardarm to ocean, Captain yelled, “Thar’s Sharks! Beware!” Mateys called, “ARgh! Yer cutlass might cut ya!” I had worse fears. They would discover my secret: I cannot swim and will surely die—if not from drowning, from embarrassment.
I closed my eyes, then opened them to find a point, any point on which I could focus from the crow’s nest. From white water crest to horizon to blue sky, it seemed that as the boat moved, so did my view. I waved and rolled with the water.
Upon bringing Tico the Tyrant home from our voyage, he feasted on salty sunflower seeds and showed his appreciation by trying to gouge my eye out while on my shoulder.
“Enough of you, feathered fiend!” I hollered and put him in his cage. Tico chortled and proceeded to preen himself.
Rena smiled from the end of the plank. Another wave crashed against the hull and broke to pieces. Flecks of foam settled on her feet. Drops of water clung to her legs, catching the rising sun and dressing her in the first and last finery she’d ever wear.
We snuck aboard the King’s Ransom, clenching deadly daggers between our teeth. We planned to eliminate key crew members with swift dispatch. Remembering Father’s dying words, I silently approached my nemesis, who stood arrogantly as a tyrant. Captain Black Hand’s reign ended suddenly with a soft splash.
You could smell the storm i’th’air like Davy Jones’ gym locker, see? Like sweaty crab meat and that. Cap’n was drunk, see? And he ordered us to act like it weren’t about to storm. So we done what he said and the storms, they never came.
What’s a pirate, they said, without a full head of knotty, mangy hair? What’s a pirate, they said, with male pattern baldness? I just smiled, and drew a brand new face on the back of my head. One that would scare the world. ARR!
I had cleaned the deck, twice; but the Captain insisted that it was not shiny. “Do it again!”. I had no more soap; so, giggling, I spread a barrel of oil all over. When he came back, he slipped starboard to the waves. I quickly jumped port side. Ahoy!
The girl stowed away in my cabin was nameless. She might have been ninety. I had no heart. She liked starving. Sometimes she called herself ‘forever pregnant.’ I feared her for reasons I did not understand; fed her bread and beer, watched her dream up a daughter inside the sea.
How did I almost become the only pirate ever to dive in the Olympics?
By perfecting my high dive from the Crow’s nest, that’s how.
My dives? Perfect!
But I never got to compete.
There’s no International waters team.
I was hoping for silvearrrrr too.