William Brand

MORE POTATOES!

AND KEEP 'EM COMING!

Anything else?

Now serving roast beef!

Aye. Damn.

Now I'm hungry.

rum and limes.. I see body shots on the menu..

Aye. Right next to the Nipples of Venus under the deserts menu.

And if ye've been to sea awhile, I recommend some of these...

these...

Today's special...

Arrrrr. The place be hoppin'.

Today's special be a fine Italian Pasta with Sausage and a side of garlic bread. Mind ye don't eat all the olives now.

Maybe just some bread and ale for me. Never could much stomach sea-food.

Are ye taking request William? I'd love to be hearing "Johnny's gone for Soldier"

And if not . . . who knows some good old drinking songs?

Aye. Anything ye like.

Have ye ever heard "Scoundrels and Maidens"?

Today's special is Shark Fin Soup.

Mind the sharks.

(Fills Merry's empty tankard. Pulls up a stool near the fireplace built of coral. Takes out a mandolin. Tunes it)

We were born upon the shore thus...

...an the angels sang a lovely chorus.

For there never was the like before us...

...to be born upon the Earth.

(Sings long into the night)

The dancing girls are late. Get that gentleman that juggles monkeys in here.

Um. I didn't make any crab cakes.

(Peers at the "Crab Cakes")

I think we need the ship surgeon in here quick.

Yo-ho, yo-ho a pyrate's life for me.

Today's special is prawns and gumbo. Aye.

Performance AAAAAAAAArrt.

Kilts and Killing? WHERE? Count me in!

During the floor show. Aye.

Cap'n Morgan! Fortis et Fidus - Daingeann a Dileas! Arrr!

Fuimus! I be of the Clan Bruce. Always glad to have a Scotsman aboard. Let us have a pint together and talk of kilts and killing.

Madeira? Actually, no. I'll go ask the proprietor of The Pink Parrot Pub. They carry a wonderful collection of imbibements.

Aye.

Three tankards! And keep 'em coming!

Such a wonderful gentleman, you are! Then if that is the case, a warmed sherry with a bowl of lobster chowder would fill my desires, if you would be so kind. Yes, that would fit the bill nicely and thank you.

(bows low)

Aye.

(strolls to the kitchen whistling "Spanish Ladies")

Such a fine view it is, my compliments to you! Pray tell, what does a girl have to do to obtain something to quench her thirst. Say aged brandy topped off with a tiny layer of Chambord.

What does a lady have to do? Very little indeed. She need but ask in this establishment.

Aye.

Boy! One order of "For the Hell-of-it!" with a side of "New World Potatoes!"

Sure! Let's see what yummy things ye have available. *takes menu and looks thru while sipping the wine* I see ye have shrimp cocktails in the appetizer section. I definitely would love to start with that!

The lamb is excellent. And the halibut is very fresh. It washed up against the beach not two hours ago.

Aye. And the chips. Wonderful.

Ahoy there William! Fine establishment ye got here luv. May I have a drink of one of your finest wines?

You may indeed, Christine. Aye. A fine wine from the South of France and a very good year at that. Please, have a seat near the front.

Would you like to see a menu?

ARRRRRrrrrrr! Welcome, Lass. Welcome indeed. Find yerself a seat anywhere ye wish, but I recommend the larboard side. It has the best view of the sea.

Boy! Bring this lady some mutton and rum! And be quick about it!

I finally became a Cap'n on this 'ere island of Pyracy, so I spent the night in celebratin' ashore with wine, women and song. I drank 'til I couldn't stand and then I drank sittin'. Then I drank lying down. I don't remember what I did after that. Strange.

Still...

...imagine me surprise when I awoke the next day to find the deed to a frigate clutched in me fingers! I unrolled the paper to read and re-read the name. It seems that I was new owner of a Spanish frigate which had been oddly named "Katherine the Great". A Spanish ship named for Russian royalty? I wondered how had I even come to own such a vessel. I found upon inquiry, that I had won her in a game of chance sometime during the night, though it was hard to consider it a win when I finally located her berth.

She lay in the trees, a full 200 feet from the tide line. She was upright but listing 5 degrees to larboard with her starboard side facing out to sea and her stern almost due west. Her sails had been stripped for other ships long before my arrival and more than a little timber had been taken as well. She had little riggin' left and her color showed that she had endured at least one season of neglect since that fateful wave had brought her hard ashore.

I was stunned. I stood transfixed, both in horror and delight. Here was a ship of excellent make too far from the sea to ever know it again. Here was a vessel of strong timbers that had most unexpectedly arrived in a grove of pecan trees and date palms. Here was a most sad and glorious site mixed together.

At first, I did not know what to do. Then, I clambered aboard to survey her depths. Little or no furnishings remained except those built into her original design. Only a few doors were missing and she seemed deceptively new in places, but poorly neglected just the same.

The galley remained much as it had been, with some evidence of fire remaining from her inland journey. I numbered the two stoves appreciably and noted the well made cupboards and larder. One could feed a fair number with such a kitchen, but what of that? I reminded meself that she were landlocked and should remain so without an undertaking that I meself could never afford.

My remaining rummaging revealed more of the same. A good ship that might never sail again.

I stood at the wheel for the better part of an hour. I then took to pacing her length for another hour and a half. When the sun was near it's zenith it occurred to me that she might be put to good use. She might be home to a crew of a sort. She might know the devotions of many a sailor again. She might be home to those of us that find ourselves landlocked and in need of the sea...

...so I went to work.

Today I open the doors to me first piratical establishment. I've sewn up her wounds and staved off her decay and neglect. Sixteen barrels of good oil and not a few casks of nails, wooden pegs and iron pins have put her right again. I've polished brass, glass and beam. I've scraped, reshaped and verily resurrected what would have been lost if not for drunken chance. She be landlocked surely, but she be a fine ship nonetheless, and until I can drag her back to sea, I shall fill this unfortunate interval in her life with music, mirth and merry-makin'! So come aboard and enjoy a pint. Sit down a spell and spin some smoke rings and yarns.

To name this new establishment, I have borrowed on her life from before and the circumstances that brought her here...

...I call her Tsunami Kate.

To slake and satiate all who enter in.