George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
A family had refused to pay the ransom for a prisoner taken in a recent raid, so the captain shouted “Keel-haul the landlubber!”
Keel-hauling involves tying a rope to someone and dragging them under the boat, scraping them along razor-sharp barnacles that have grown on the hull.
George, who was in charge of the keel-hauling crew, ended up tangling the entire boat in ropes, and the prisoner escaped.
After the ropes were untangled, the captain hung George upside-down from the mast for a week.
Category: Talk Like A Pirate Day
George The Pirate Is Good With Numbers
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was good with numbers though. He came from a long line of accountants and jewelers.
So, the captain sent George below decks and had him go through the plunder, appraising the booty and matching up pieces of eight.
George happily sorted through the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, and he cataloged them in his book.
However, the doubloons were another matter.
“I’m not very good with jigsaw puzzles either, Captain,” he said, holding up the resulting mess.
It looked like a bust of the captain.
For once, he smiled.
George The Pirate Seasick
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Most pirates got their sea-legs in a few days, but George had never gotten used to the rocking and swaying of the boat, and the best place to find him was leaning over the rail, vomiting.
Even when the ship was docked. (He hadn’t gotten used to the swill served by the galley, either.)
So, he volunteered for land raids, and constantly asked the captain about a desk job.
“You know, with headquarters,” said George.
The captain smirked, and chained George into the crow’s nest for a week.
George The Pirate Parries
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Despite years of practice with his cutlass, he’d yet to kill anyone with it.
“I’m good at parrying,” he protested. “I could parry all day and not get a scratch. Then, while I’m parrying, someone else gets the kill. Perhaps if you changed your metrics to measure teamwork instead of individual achievements, it would better reflect my contributions to the raiding parties.”
The captain scratched his beard, thought for a moment, and then handed George a mop.
“The deck needs swabbing,” he chortled.
George wasn’t good at chortling, either.
Diction
September 19 is International Talk Like A Pirate Day.
All across the world, people say things like “Yarrrrr!” and “Avast, ye scurvy dogs!” and “Me hearties!” and silly pirate-speak phrases like that.
Especially to pirates they meet on that day.
Pirates don’t find this amusing.
It’s like walking up to someone from Australia and saying “Throw another shrimp on the Barbie!”
So when a pirate draws his cutlass and shouts “I’ll have ye guts fer garters!” the proper response is not to applaud at their impressive diction, but to run like hell.
Although, to be honest, pirates rarely wear garters.
Anchor
Back when gaslamps lit the streets of New Orleans, sailors would go to sea and their loves would wait for their return.
Most came back to port on schedule, or close to it.
Others were delayed by storms, pirates… so many dangers.
When a ship was due, their loves came to the docks and met them as they arrived, walking down the gangplank, that moment.
Or, if they didn’t arrive, waiting.
Late one day… two… a week… a month.
Sometimes, the harbormaster wrote that worst of all fates: “LOST.”
And their hearts would sink, down… sink below the waves forever.
Limber Me Timbers
When Jill finished her Phys Ed and Business degrees, she opened up a yoga studio.
Business was good, plenty of young mothers and forty-somethings needing to lose a few pounds, or keep pounds away.
Then, Wii Fit and other cheaper options came out, followed by the recession.
She tried pilates classes, but those didn’t draw.
“Try a GroupOn,” said a friend.
Half-off coupons brought in a wave of signups to her studio.
Then… disaster.
First day, the room was filled with buccaneers.
One waved a printout in his good hand.
“Yarrr, I signed up fer Pirates classes!”
Damn you, Autocorrect!
Stretching It
The day before a pirate raid, you can go down to the beach and watch the men doing their pre-raid warm-up exercises and stretching.
It’s very important to limber up before shivering any timbers, keel-hauling, or walking the plank.
Nobody wants to be in the middle of a raid and then suddenly get a sprain or a charley-horse, dropping their cutlass from a twisted wrist.
And then there’s the basics: port, starboard, bow, stern.
No landlubber mistakes here, mateys.
Is that a stuffed parrot?
Argh. Go requisition a real one.
Either straighten up, boy, or we’re all in deep poopdeck.
The Navigator
Robert The Navigator looked over Captain Blood’s map.
“You’re shitting me, right?” he said.
Captain Blood raised an eyebrow.
Robert pointed at a sea serpent in the corner. “Ever seen one of these?”
“No.”
“How about this?” Robert pointed to a fat-cheeked blowing cloud.
“Well, it’s not to be taken too literally.”
“And am I to believe that this land here actually exists?”
“Um, that’s Italy.”
“Shaped like a boot? No, really… what child drew this?”
“Serpent ahoy!” shouted the first mate.
Captain Blood watched as Robert was thrown overboard.
“Good show, Blood,” said a nearby cloud. “Need a gust?”
The Scar
I take it you’ve seen the scar on Captain Blood’s neck.
He claims he got it from a duel.
In a way, I suppose that’s the truth, but it wasn’t a fair duel.
His strategy is to draw his sword, then pull a pistol and shoot his opponent in the chest.
Once, he had a misfire, and was forced to reach for his other pistol.
That gun fired true and killed his opponent.
So how was he cut?
He slashed his own neck, reaching for the other pistol.
Don’t tell him that, though.
Or he’ll challenge you to a duel.