Ahoy, Maties! Ahoy, Maties!

If I were the type to apologize for things, I admit what I might say something along them latitudes right now, mostly about the fact what I been out to sea for so long, leaving me port bound swabs parched for stout Cap’nly wisdom, but that type I ain’t.  I don’t currently see no seaworthy reason to apologize, as I think most of ye can understand, appreciate and mebbe even identify with the necessity for collecting as many doubloons as possible in as short a time as possible.   See, lads, when I’m out of port, the on’y discussion I want with lubbers involves one-sided negotiations of large transfers of gold from their coffers to me own.  I will however, tender me sincere apologies if any of said precious metal belonged to you up til recently…

But as you can see with your very own eyes, here I stand on deck, looking over the rail and down into this bustling port of call, with prosperous pockets and one eye out for the ladies, and I still have all the limbs I left port with a few weeks ago.   So on the balance of things ye can say things is going well for I and the crew.  And the kitty is also doing well, for those of you who might remember the incident with the handcannon.  She were mighty persnickety with me for a time after that, but she is warming up fast now that her fur is mostly grown back.  She is billowing into a fullsail feline, aye, and I know that if the swabs on board ever stop givin her morsels of swordfish, she’ll be a good mouser.

Why, just the other day–”

SKWAAAAAAAAWK! 
Cat overboard! Cat overboard!Cat soup and dumplings in the mess, swabbies! 
SKWAAAAAAAWK!

(Shaddap, Polly, or I’ll sell yer tailfeathers to some lubber for a pint of rotgut…)

Pay no mind to Polly here, lads.  If ever there were a jealous avian, this bird be the prime specimen.  Ever since the kitten took to sidling up and making fast friends with the crew, the mates ain’t got no time to admire Polly’s wild jungle wit nomore, and as a result her plume has been mor’n a wee bit touchy.  I swear I seen a murderous look in them black pearls she got for eyes.  I keep tellin her, with this grudge she’s got on, she’s starting to look more an more like an albatross every day.  And all because I took a shinin to something sweet and innocent… and she were sooo hungry… What was a Cap’n to do?

Let the poor thing waste away?  And so here we are at port for some hours now, and ye will take note of the fact what as Polly is still here.   I admit, she don’t grip me shoulder quite as firmly these days, and she’s taken to eating more than her rightful share of crackers lately, but she ain’t flyin away.   And ye know why?  She’s a sailor in her heart… she may have sturdy wings, but nothing will ever replace the open sea for her, or for me.

Well, I ought to speed things up a knot, as I intend on soon commandeering a pub and spending more doubloons than what is necessary.   So get ready for the questions. Ahem… *snort!*

The answers:

I always wanted a pirates beard but can’t maintain it.  How do you keep yours? Any special shampoos, conditioners or other products? -Bobby the Rookie

This picture were the last time me handsome image were made public that I know of, but I don’t doubt there are many more like it in various ports and Cap’n’s quarters. It looks like it were drawn by a drunken ditch digger, but its a fine likeness nonetheless.
Arrr,  he’s a handome devil

As you can discern, I don’t have no luxurious beard, lad. Try askin yer fancy groomin questions elsewhere.

If I turn to be a pirate, which I might, I need to know, is there a special ceremony like drinking it down or shootin apples? -Paul Gagnon

I knowed some seagoers who didn’t care for the phrase “drinking it down” a whole lot. But I myself don’t care what’s said about neither life nor death, since I know me own mind as well as I know the stars I navigate by. I can’t say so much that there is ordinarily a grand ceremony before a man becomes a pirate, leastaways there never ain’t no pomp and circumstance on me flagship vessel The Snipe Hunt when this should occur. But since ye asked, allow me some lee and I’ll tell ye what I learned about the subject.

When a man one day wants to become a man of the sea, and signs on a vessel that don’t ask too many questions, he ain’t no pirate. When a man leaves behind his family and friends, and spends weeks at a time out of sight of land in pursuit of oceangoing doubloons, he ain’t no pirate.  When a man sights feeble quarry and bullies his way into a meager cargo hold, coming back aboard with no more than some cut rate pearls, some mildewed charts and a box of dry cigars, he ain’t no pirate. But when a man tastes his first armed, organized resistance, and in the glorious pursuit of gold and freedom is forced to let his cutlass do the talking…  when he shares his best rum with the dying Cap’n of a conquered vessel… when he wishes he hadn’t had to put the honorable mate down to his Davy… and when its all over and done he takes the gold anyway, then he is a pirate.

I’m sure as hell not a pirate, but I had “Cap’N’ before you! I demand MAD royalty fees! —CaPn’-NiMpY-

Well, lad, let me just say that you may call yerself a Cap’n, but if you ain’t seen the sharp sheen of a cutlass close enough to shave your eyebrows you don’t deserve the title. Mebbe you’ve paid some sorry, drunk landlocked dockworkers enough shillings to call you whatever makes you feel keen, but it don’t mean nothin if they don’t call you Cap’n on thier own accord. See, no matter how many other “Cap’ns” there might be tickling the high seas with their puny pontoons and kayaks and canoes, there’s only one Cap’n Swoosh, and he don’t answer to no Nimpy.

If I kill all the butterflies, will the wind stop blowing? –Liar (HGBG)

No, lad, the wind will never stop blowing, but there damn sure won’t be any flowers left in China.

All right then, swabs.   I can feel the powerful need for rough drink and soft skin comin on like a tropical storm.  I wish I had more time to devote to easin yer minds, but its all I got time fer what with this primal tide risin in me.  Don’t forget about this here question barrel.  Fill her up, lads!  I’ll answer them questions next time I’m in port. OK, swabs, lets let loose while we got a hold full of loot!  Arrr!

See you here next week, maties….

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