Cap'n Mad Eye

I'm feelin' good...a day of rum in me and it's amazin' how the time flies. Not lookin' foreward t' work tomorrow, but the paycheck is a paycheck. Only 4 days til Lee Island!

Nothin' too major...just needed t' stop postin' shanties is all Now I"m good...I think

nefertiti

Also I sees ya made Deck Swabber. Kind of sneaks up on ya. Well, e'rs ta that to. Congrats lad...

Secret's safe wit me mate...danke fer the congrats. Now t' only git back t' me 200+ that I 'ad bef're!

Oh hell, when is PiP?

I may be able to convince a couple members of my crew to band together and save for a road trip. They need a big non-SCA event under their belt anyways.

Nov 25th-Dec 4th this year.

Don't make us send people out to hijack ya

Ah bloody 'eck Jonathan...I missed yer arrival! Well here's t' hopin' the rounds still on ya!

Ray! I be 'avin' an'ther...yes an'ther...pint o' rum mate!

Welcome t' the pub Jonathan!

I'm addicted...someone help? Please?

Cape Cod Girls

Cape Cod girls ain't got no combs

Haul away, haul away

They brush their hair with codfish bones

And we're bound away for Australia

So heave away, me bully, bully boys

Haul away, haul away

Heave her up and don't you make a noise

And we're bound away for Australia

Cape Cod kids ain't got no sleds

They slide down the hills on codfish heads

Cape Cod girls ain't got no frills

They tie their hair with codfish gills

Cape Cod cats ain't got no tails

They lost them all in the northeast gales

The Pyrates just debuted their pirate dinner theatre play for Fortune 500 execs. Complete with three life size sets, a 40' ship and a cast of 13. Glad it's over now - we did all the set construction and assembly ourselves...

-- Hurricane

Good lord man! Sounds like we got in the werks fer Pennsic this year!

Right now we've got a 2 story common tent that looks like the back end of a splintered vessel, a new crows nest, new gate and a portable shanty that be lookin' it was made from th' remains of the ship in the works. Only 109 days to complete 't all too!

Oh then there's me personal stuff...new hat, new coat and various other odd an' ends that I be needin'. Ah...life is grand!

Here's a little backstory for this one...

By Chrystofer & Andrixios Seljukroctonis; a filk to the tune of "Ballad of the Green Berets." It all began at Pennsic War one year, when Paval (a Calontir fighter) started duct-taping stuffed hamsters onto his sword-brothers' helms; and quickly degenerated from there. The song also scans to "March on Cambredth" by Phoenyx. (Which just shows you JUST what a warped universe we live in...)

The Fighting Hamsters of Calontir

Fighting hamsters from the sky

Some will live and some will die

Hamsters have nothing to fear,

The fighting hamsters of Calontir

Silver tape upon their backs

A broadsword is all they lack

Fifty hamsters fight a war

They won't win without fifty more

Trained by jumping off a roof

Trained in combat tooth to tooth

Hamsters fight both far and near

The fighting hamsters of Calontir

Riding high upon our helms

Their war cry it overwhelms

All opponents become weak

At their fearsome squeaky-squeak

Back at home Paval awaits

His fighting hamster's met its fate

He has died while drinking beer

The fighting hamsters of Calontir

Once again it's off to war

This time we number a dozen more

We will fight for those in need

So this year it's with Caid

Fighting hamsters jump from planes

Fighting hamsters fall like rain

Some will live but most will die

Stupid creatures cannot fly!

Whiskey-O

Whiskey-o, Johny-o

Rise her up from down below

Whiskey, whiskey, whiskey-o

Up aloft this yard must go

John rise her up from down below

Now whiskey is the life of man

Always was since the world began

Now whiskey gave me a broken nose

And whiskey made me pawn me clothes

Now whiskey is the life of man

Whiskey from that old tin can

I thought I heard the first mate say

I treats me crew in a decent way

A glass of whiskey all around

And a bottle full for the shanty man

(Spoken: Up she blew!)

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee

The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead

When the skies of November turn gloomy.

With a load of iron ore - 26,000 tons more

Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty

That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed

When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side

Coming back from some mill in Wisconson

As the big freighters go it was bigger than most

With a crew and the Captain well seasoned.

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms

When they left fully loaded for Cleveland

And later that night when the ships bell rang

Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.

The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound

And a wave broke over the railing

And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,

T'was the witch of November come stealing.

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait

When the gales of November came slashing

When afternoon came it was freezing rain

In the face of a hurricane West Wind

When supper time came the old cook came on deck

Saying fellows it's too rough to feed ya

At 7PM a main hatchway caved in

He said fellas it's been good to know ya.

The Captain wired in he had water coming in

And the good ship and crew was in peril

And later that night when his lights went out of sight

Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes

When the words turn the minutes to hours

The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay

If they'd fifteen more miles behind her.

They might have split up or they might have capsized

They may have broke deep and took water

And all that remains is the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings

In the ruins of her ice water mansion

Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams,

The islands and bays are for sportsmen.

And farther below Lake Ontario

Takes in what Lake Erie can send her

And the iron boats go as the mariners all know

With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed

In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral

The church bell chimed, 'til it rang 29 times

For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee

Superior, they say, never gives up her dead

When the gales of November come early.

Bon Jovi- Wanted Dead or Alive

T'day....mostly hungover.....arrrr :) ....shhhhh!....too loud!

What's a 'ango'er?

I feelin' like I need t' start drinkin' 'gain. The day moon is still out an' something just has t' be done 'bout that!

hot foot

Wow 10min eh Joshua? That means ya be from me home port of Philly eh? Good t' see an'ther from the area!

Fort Mifflin is bein' a great place though. We're actually workin' on an aft'r hours tour o' th' place when we move back t' the area. Should be an interestin' experience. :)

very very nice

So that means yer gonna be makin' it down this year fer right Cap'n? Cause if'n ya don't I'll send out a Brute Squad t' hunt yer ass down!

virgins

I must say that was excellent, Hurricane! Makes me wanna git back down there this year more than ever.

body painting

We're going to be in full regalia. Wouldn't be much point otherwise. Just let them try to stop us at the gate. We'll chop 'em to pieces and boil their bones for lunch...

Hurricane

Aye matey that be soundin' like a mighty fine plan ye gots there.