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Pistol Pete be going arovin'. The Carabee's a callin'. Mayhap Neptune will spit me back ashore. Drink to the Devil when ya think of me. Blood n' glory.
capn'rob
Fare thee well, Shipmate! May Godspeed and fair winds and gentle seas. We hopes to be making an anchorage wi' ye some foine day, once more!
Me fingers be marlin spikes n' I spits tar. I be so salty when I walks in a room luggers mouths dry out n' their blood preasure gos up!
