Be Warned Lads!

Ahoy me lads!  Weigh anchor and set to, we’re leaving port!

 

Aye.  The loon is who ye think it is wavin’ at us from dockside.

 

It’s…

 

The Punny Pirate!!!

 

Did ye hear aboot yon pirate movin’ ptcher?

 

It’s rated, “Arrrrrrrrrrr!”

 

Too late lads, she got us square amidships wi’ her newest turrible pun!!

 

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. by John Masefield

Back Aboard Home

Aye lads, I’m returned fro’ me wee island what I lives on in th’ winter.  An’ jist in time I’m a- seein’.  Lads, have ye learned nothin’ on yer voyages?  Look to th’ clouds, look an’ watch.

Y’see there?  How the clouds are goin’ low an’ dark?  They’ll be fat with rain, I can assure ye o’ that!! 

Ye can see for yerselfs that the clouds are comin’ on fast, feel the breeze on yer phiz.  Can ye feel th’ cold an’ wet in the breeze?  Can ye see the clouds that are up higher?  Yes, the Mare’s Tails! 

I was a-seein’ ‘em’ at dawn, far away then; but red as blood they was, an I knew we’d be seekin’ safe harbour afore th’ evenin’ meal.

Aye, our captain’ll get us there, safe; I’m sure there ‘re several coves nearaways that he c’n choose fro.  I willna worry about it, I would ask ye lads to batten everythin’ and take up yon sails.

We’ll be tryin’ ta outrun this ugly wench o’ weather.  Oh aye, she’ll be a right Gorgon o’ a storm!

Step lively there lads!!  I c’n see th’ rain a-comin’ thisaway!!  Quickly now, afore we are ridin’ them waves comin’ on wi’ th’ rain!

C’n ye noo hear the hissin’ o’ th’ rain, and the cryin’ o’ th’ wind in th’ riggin’s?  If’n ye fall overboard in this blow, ye’ll be in Davy Jones’ Locker afore ye know it!

Good lads!!  Ye’ve got our Lady ridin’ high on th’ waves, and runnin’ like the Thoroughbred she is!

Ah!!  I ken where th’ Cap’n is a-headin’ fer!!  Horsehead Cove, as sweet a shelter as any Pirate could wish fer!!

We’ll be snug as a landlubber granny sittin’ by her fire.  Horsehead is a fine place to be stormbound, an’ I’n knowin’ we’ll reach her afore the worst o’ th’ storm is upon us.

Now lads, while ye and our Cap’n take us to Horsehead, I’ll be makin extra rations o’ grog, and finish the soup fer our dinner.  By tomorra night we’ll be eatin’ a fine venison stew and takin’ on fresh water and food t’keep us a-sail for a bit longer-like.

the Calabar at sea

The Calabar under full sail,

but hush!

who is this who comes in hot pursuit …..

collage by Troubadour

Three more parrots make a decision

Three more parrots

Three parrots gathered in the Cafe to discuss
the matter of sailing
aboard  Calabar
although sailing for parrots
seemed quite bizarre
“Old so and so Wacam is already there
If we don’t get on board
he’ll tell us we scare.”
“Too easy,” said Ronald,” we can’t risk the dare”

And so they took off on a wing and a prayer
and landed at sunset, weary but fair
winds had sustained them.  The captain
was dubious, just how many birds
making noises, how curious
to have nests above deck
and  suspected his ears
might be wrecked by cacaphony
endangered by flight
or wearied by wild disagreements at night
but decided to take ‘em
provided the Falcon
would administer the aviary
and the old crone’s witches
would sweep the deck.  Crone Fran

A Fine Bright Morning

“Squa..squa..squaeoooeooo what a beautiful morning, squa… what a beautiful day, squive got a wonderful feeling, everything’s going my wa….squawkkkkk!

“Sorree Mac, I plain did not see you comin’. I been up since the crack of dawn, peelin’ and choppin’, makin’ sure the Capn’s beraykfast is jus’ perfeck, cleanin’ her laundry an’ shinin’ her belt an’ boots, swabbing the decks..I is tellin’ you Mac that woman is one all roun’ throw back from a slave trader or my name’s not Denzel!”    

“Wow! Who’s a busy, bitter boy? That was one heck of an angst ridden speech, it would seem that morale is pretty rock bottom in this establishment. What about all these people, have they spent the night with their feet up and left Cinders to do all the work?” 

“Mac are those eyes in your head stuck there for an ornament! Look at them! Do they look like they’re doing nothin’? We is all dead beat, tired to our bones, walkin’ zombies exhausted an’ no there is not one of us ever gets so much as a second to take a pi…  well all I’s sayin’ is ’she always down here with her, ’ ahah y’ scurvy idle galley bugs, don’ let me see yous slackin or you all be a tastin’ the cat, ahah’,  droppin’ by to keep us on our dead beat toes!”

“Squiddley dee feller, you are one fed up below decks lad who doesn’t like his Cap’n!”

“He doesn’t… “, “We doesn’t…”, “I can’t stan’ her boy, she one nasty…”, “And as for that ‘orrible crow, Matilda…”, ” Oh, yessir, MATILDA!!”

“Yoh, sqiddley do, cool it with the uproar. My my you are ALL unhappy people this fine morning, every morning from the sound of it but hey… who is Matilda?”

“You ain’t met Matilda! Malicious Mat, tell all ‘Tilda, Mat the Rat! Oh don’  worry, you’ll meet her, she leaves one big wave of misery everywhere she go and she spies on the entire crew. That mean the entire crew…!”

“Squewf,  if all this is true, those two gals are not a nice twosome, no siree, not a nice double act at all.”

“You suggestin’ we’s all makin’ up these things? What you sayin’ hippy bird, if what we sayin’ is true? Sure an’ I is tellin’ you with all these fine people here my momma ain’t never ‘ad no truck with no lyin’; I would a gotten a whuppin’ if I’s even so much tried it on with that laydee, God rest her fine soul.”

“I was not suggesting any such thing, it was a turn of phrase! Gosh you lot are a paranoid bunch, I’m on your side Denzel, I want to help.”

“Help! Hey, yous all hearin’ this feather mop bird? He’s sayin’ he wants to help! You some kind of magic man bird boy, you gonna flap them pretty rainbow feathers an’ turn your sweet self into some kind of super hero? I’s just don’t see that big bird! Mac, yo’ is well out of your league.”

“I beg to differ Denzel, you are making snap judgements on someone you don’t know. As it happens I have a highly tuned instinct for sniffing out information and general detective work. At the very least I can tell you when to be ready for a visit… for a, ah hm, a small remuneration.”

“For what?”

“Payment, a small gift, a pill to sweeten my endeavours on your behalf.”

“Mac – you’s talk in riddles, what exackly is you askin’ for – in simple words we can all unerstand.”

“Scraps, nuts, juicy pieces of fat, the crumbs from her breakfast tray. In a word – food!”

“You is wantin’ food? Why can’t you jus’ out an’ say so Mac? You can have all the food you need and welcome; you’s give us warnin’s bout the Cap’n an’ we’s all make you a banquet  that is fo’ sure.” 

“Well Denzel, I do believe we have a deal. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open and as soon as I know anything believe me, you’ll know it 20 seconds later. Do you have any advice, any informaion you think I should know – in addition to the general witch like nature of the Cap’n?”

“Okay everybody, Mac here is askin’ me is there anythin’ he needs to watch out for in particular, any little nasty surprises maybes hidin’ roun’ the corner! Hahahaha, any surrrprises! Only the one Mr Technicolour Dreamcoat but you make shoh you listen up good.” “Oh yeah bright bird..”, “I don’ think we should scare him, let him find out…”

“Okay Mr Paintbox, there is jus’ the one, an’ you make shoh you heed us well because you drop your guard an’ y’all see fo’ yo’self what we mean  -people, who this peckin’ piece gotta watch out for… MATILDA!!!

Jan

Jan

Opening the Galley

Ahoy there me hearties!!  One-eyed Red’s in th’ Galley, and has a lovely mutton stew simmerin’ on the stove.  I’ve laid by plenty o’ rum fer grog, and a few casks o’ special drinks fer special happenin’s. 

Aye m’crew I’ve another keg o’ Lemurian Brandy, actually two, one is spiced for the comin’ Yuletide.  We canna ha’ th’ Yule wi’out a Wassail as well.

Now there!!  Step lively an’ keep th’ food well awa fra’ th’ pissoir, less’n ye’re wantin to be leanin’ over yon rail and feedin’ the fish yer dinner.

Aye, I’ve heard th’ blather that ’tis’nt dangerous t’ mix  the mess fra’ th’ pissoir wi’ yer food.  Th’ bloomin’ landlubbers don’ know their arse from a hole in th’ ground!!  I’ve seen hearty lads succumb to th’ yellow jaundice, and take half th’ crew wi’ ‘em, when the pissoir is t’ close t’ th’ foodstuffs!! 

How does I keep th’ water s’ fresh?  Good question lads!  Afore I put a good bit o’ spring water in the cask, I boils it, in and oot, then, while it’s still  warm I rub the whole thing wi’ cakes o’ beeswax.  On the outer sides I use beeswax wi’ bay and chili t’ keep rats an’ such out o’ th’ water.  That’s how.  Oh, an’ I strains the water through layers of fine muslin when I puts it in th’ casks.  Wi’ th’ beeswax, and th’ strainin’ th’ casks’ll be good for many journeys, instead o’ just one time.

I do th’ same wi’ th’ casks o’ dried fruit, and meats.  It is how I keep th’ weevils out o’ th’ flour as well.  Now ye know that th’ small casks an’ such are medicines t’ keep ye lads well.  Take them directly t’ th’ galley, aye, there’s a place all set fer ‘em.

Not only do I ha’ the rum and brandies, I got me hands on some fine Irish ale, a good stout brew, that’ll be a right treat wi’ dinner a time or three.  I’ve brought plenty of things for makin’ sweets.  I thinks a ship sails happier wi’ sugar in her crews’ bellies.  Oh, aye, I’ve some lovely fruitcakes, steepin’ in a fine old rum.

O’ course lads, t’ ha’ a proper Yule we needs Wassail, spiced hot rum, and fruitcakes.  Yes me lads, I’ve th’ makin’s fer some fine plum puddin’s.  Nay, t’night the sweet will be spiced oranges in a brandy sauce.

Aye’ just like the Lords and Ladies in th’fine houses o’ London an’ Ed’nburrah.  I have somethin’ new to try laddies, it comes all th’ way from the Red Indians in th’ Americas, it’s somethin’ what’s called pemmycan, or somethin’ like that.  Aye, I’ve tried it’ m’sel’.  Now I’ve never used something on’ m’ lads what I didn’t try first!!   This is passin’ good t’chew on, but if ye soak it in some ale it’s a right treat of a stormy night.

Now lads, if’n yer not on duty, why not bring yerselves an’ any instrument y’play belowdecks, a good sing always makes fer a good sail.  Oh aye, aye, we’ll be singing ‘Fiddler’s Green’…

“Now Fiddler’s Green

Is a place I heard tell.

Where Pirate crews go,

If they don’t go t’hell…”

I’ll go ha’ me a pipe in the galley, and then join y’lads.  Step light now, we dinna want t’ wake yon bats in th’ holds.  Nay, th’ bats aren’t bad luck less’n ye get th’ hives fra’ th’ guana they leave aboot.  Yon creatures eat th’ bugs, an’ that keeps em’ out o’ th’ food. 

Did you put th’ bay leaves and marigolds in yer beds?  That’ll keep th’ bedbugs an’ fleas at bay.  Would I be kiddin about that m’boys?? 

Have y’ learned nothin’ fro’ th’ Black Death, I tell ye, I do believe ’twas th’ fleas what spread it, th’ fleas on th’ rats.  An’ why were ther s’many rats??  On account o’ some fools claimin’ cats were th’ get o’th’ Divvil an’ killin’ most o’ them.  Wi’ no cats t’kill th’ rats they were everywhere.   Bloody idjits!!!

Gwen

First Night on Board

Wow the sea’s looking set to swell up tonight, I’ll take a good look at the rest of the crew before they check me out. Captain Ebony Wilder, hmm, she looks a strange old bird to be skippering a pirate ship and that’s an even stranger old bird with her! The folk on this boat are an interesting looking bunch of people but why on earth are some of them here? The old lad sitting under the mast looks like he’s been press-ganged – but I suspect he’s deep, very deep. The lasses at the rail are champing at the bit, desperate to set sail into the wild blue yonder in search of adventure… and possibly lurve. Oh no, hang on a sec, is she, is she, and yes…thar she blows, chucking up her egg and sausage over the side;I’m certain I’ve seen one of them before, she’s a blue-blooded aristocrat or my name’s not Jan, Jayjay, Wacam, JanJan – what is my name? – just waiting to sail into the wild blue yonder. Well well, fancy seeing her here, now what’s she doing away from mummy and daddy, and in this company no less. The others are a game looking bunch as well but I’ll leave them be; they’ll show their colours when we’re out at sea.
So a lost civilization is it, she’s got a bee in her bonnet about lost civilizations. If there is a lost civilization out there it’s amazing the bizarre looking Long Jane Wilder hasn’t found it by now. In fact looking at her, the only surprising thing is she wasn’t there at its inception; her skin’s so weather beaten I’ll bet it’s papyrus. She certainly likes laying the law down, how many more times is she going to say cat ‘o’ nine-tails in one sentence? As for the outfit she’s wearing, crashing cutlesses, I reckon she’s pinched it off Captain Hook’s washing line!
Gosh I love doing this, it’s fascinating to be in these shadows and watch – oops, we’re rocking a bit, I’ll have to find my sea legs or there’ll be puke on the poop deck. Some of these people are really scared of the Cap and yet they’re volunteers; why would anyone sign up to be a deck hand for someone who scares them? And the skivvies, what’s all that about? They’re absolutely terrified, she only has to glance their way and they look fit to throw themselves over board. I’ll have to get chatting to a few, see how long they’ve sailed with her and why the heck they’re all still here. What is it with them? How come they don’t scarper as soon as the boat hits dry land. I bet there’s a lot they can tell me when they’re not running round like demented galley slaves at her beck and call.

Stone the crows it’s chilly on deck but I’m a one to judge other people, my own clothes are garish and that’s putting it mildly; what was I thinking of, blue pants and a gold top? On the other hand at least I blend in nicely, I look the part. What will she say, I wonder, if she finds out the real reason for me being here. I’ve spent my life searching out ancient wonders so that historians and archaeologists the world over can understand and preserve our past… that joker thinks I’m looking for gold and untold wealth. Treasure. She won’t recognise real treasure when it slaps her in the face like a wet cod. Listen to her, every other sentence it’s all, ‘ah ah mi hearties n remember who’s the C’pin o’ this boat, shiver mi timbers’, I’ve met more realistic pantomime dames! How corny is this woman?
Thanks be to kindly mermaids she’s finally winding up, what a load of old hogwash. Today seems to have gone on for ever, wonder if I’m sickening for something. I feel really odd these days, not myself at all. I’m off before she thinks of anything else to say, I’ll slip round the outskirts. It must be time to hit the hammock, I’ll keep a low profile for now, best to keep quiet and see…

‘What shall we do with a drunken sailor

What shall weeee….ughh!’

“Are you crazy, shush up, we’ll have the whole ship looking this way you half-witted anchor!”

“Hic,hic, I’ll whisper it, hic…”

“You will not whisper anything you drunken lush! How’d you get into this state?”

“Mmm, thas for me to know an you to find out, lovely drop of rum that….”

“Rum! Rum! I’ll rum you if you don’t quit making a row, now get in that pouch and don’t make a murmur!”

“Hey, you, bossy fancy dress freak, when are you going to stop calling me anchor? I do have a name y’know.”

“A name! You have a name! You’re an anchor, that’s your name, and whisper, whisper…!”

” I am an anchor but thas not my name goldie top, my name is Hank, okay, Hank!”

“Hank! HANK! Who the hell calls an anchor Hank? Now shut up and find your place in the pouch and be quick about it!”

“Ooohh, get you with the old sea dog lingo! Quite the sailor aren’t we…”

“Hush, you stop this right now or…”

“Or what? Go on, or what? Thought so, all puff and no powder. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll be quiet as a little mousy if you’ll use my name? Deal? I feel a song coming on, hic…”

“Okay, fine, anything to stop you singing again! I’ll call you..uh hm, Hank, okay, Hank. Now sleep off that grog and don’t let me hear from you again. Good night…Hank.”

Strewth, there are times when I have to question my own sanity but it looks like no one’s noticed. First thing in the morning I’ll have a nosy, ’til then I’m in kip. Who knows what tomorrow’s going to fetch up, s’pose it’ll bring what it brings, anchors, crazy Captains n’all….”

Jan

Of Maps and Madness

I suppose that day will always be remembered as the day that Lady Annabel ran away from her life of luxury and apparent riches, leaving all behind to join up with a band of pirates to sail the seas of Lemuria. What complete and utter madness had overtaken such a mild mannered and docile female, one who had always listened and followed the words of her father and husband. Some say it was an illness that she contracted that invaded her mind; others whispered that she had been seen hiding in laneways following the band of reprobates who constantly trailed after a certain Capt Ebony Wilder. Well whatever the explanation, Lady Annabel had passed the point of no return. She had cast her lot in with those who existed on the edge of common decency and civilization. There was no turning back now.

Thank Goddess for that, I thought to myself as I fell onto a wooden board that was to serve as my bed for that night and all the nights that lay ahead in this new life that for once I had chosen, and not being decided on for me. Now this is freedom I said aloud to the table and curtainless porthole that looked out onto a moonlit sea.

Rising early the next morning I was greeted by the sight of the remnants of the previous nights revelries. Bottles and bodies littered the entire deck. But then the Captain herself emerged and letting a loud roar she bellowed to all present to get up off their —– and start to prepare to sail. So it was true then that we were all about to begin our new voyage of discovery. Tentatively I approached her, preparing to ask her for some details about this lost civilization for which we were supposedly seeking. Looking me in the eye, without even a flicker of movement in her gaze, she held me there spellbound for who knows how long. Then she smiled and handed me a bottle which looked curiously like the one I had tossed into the sea just before I boarded the Calabar. When she moved on and left my side I opened the bottle and emptied it of its contents, which unsurprisingly had been metamorphosed into a map , upon which was written the words, ‘’Herein lies the secret divulged, shewing the heretofore hidden pathways to a realm of freedom, creativity and happiness. ‘’ Then written in the daintiest handwriting off to the side in a corner of the map were the words dedicating this particular document to a certain Lady Annabel deemed worthy of the treasures should she manage to find them. Looking up after the Captain I caught her eye briefly as she turned to glance my way again, smiling for a moment before she turned aside to yell out more orders. And so, pushing the map into my trouser band, I jumped into action as we all prepared to set sail.

Soul Sister