Pirate Ship

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Rudy and Gale never thought they’d be in Cancun.  Her parents footed the bill for a family vacation. The beautiful resort pushed into the turquise blue water.   Their five year son Rodger had one request, the Pirate Ship.

“Come on let’s go.  It’s real pirates with swords!” Dragging Dad, Roger heads toward the boat next to their resort.  

“Champ, they don’t sail til sunset!  We have to come back.”  Rudy picks up  his son and rejoins the family.

The day comes and goes. Half past six, the pirate ship gets revisited.  At forty bucks a pop, their three hour tour is an affordable adventure. The tourist angle played by eye patches, rusty swords and period custumes interplay with a couple fowl mouthed parrots.

 Behind the ticket office hangs a banner “Warning:Scroundrels, Thieves, Loose Women, and Vicious Malcontents on every cruise! Take nothing of value!  You have been warned!”.  

The pirate ship fires up its Diesel engines.  Vibrations shake the water and blue black smoke fills the stern.  With a couple herky jerk moves, the vessel takes to the water.  In quick fashion, they met a forty foot boat anchored.  Some of the crew scurries up the masts and out to the sails end.  A loud megaphone screams prepare to be broaded or shot out of the sea.  The tourists rush to the side.  A real pirate boarding!  

The Captian Blythe grabs Rudy from his Dad.  “Come Boy!  You’ll light em up.  Blow em back to the whore they came out of!   Ay!”  He hands him a rope and tells him to pull.  A cannon blast thunders through everyone.  Half the people run to somewhere else.  The others laugh!  The ball sails over the boat next door now.  Six of the crew descend on ropes.  Flailing their cutlass blades.  Striking the stunned people on the other boat.

Six more times this plays out. Each time Captain Blythe ransom a family member for a wallet. Each time the tourists chant “blood, blood, blood” shaming the person to pay. It’s all part of the tour.

When they dock, Captain Blythe is nowhere to be found.

15 thoughts on “Pirate Ship

  1. Argh who be the scallywag that weaves this here tale? He’s found his sea legs no doubt and a flagon of rum for the long haul! Off to cape horn!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. In Newfoundland there is a tradition for island newcomers called Being Screeched In. It involves kissing a Codfish and a shot of “Screech” (Old dark potent Jamaican Rum.) I think we all have a little pirate in us!

        “So to begin, you must have a Newfoundlander present for a ceremony. Then you must get your shot of screech ready for consumption. At this time the cod must be kissed. Once this task is finished you must answer the question “Is ye a Screecher?”. The reply to this is “Deed I is me old cock, and long may your big jib draw!”.[3] This can be translated as “Yes indeed, my friend, long may your big sail (i.e. jib) draw wind”, or “may there always be wind in your sails.” Afterwards the shot of screech must be consumed. At this time the newcomer is accepted in, and receives a certificate from the Royal Order of Newfoundland Screechers.” — Wikipedia.

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