Jacky Tar

Jacky has been keeping a weathered eye on Captain Striker, who has emptied his mug of rum, and is now weaving and bobbing about the pub. Jacky hastily rises from the table...

"Pardon me Ransom." Jacky walks up to Captain Striker, "Ye have got t' find yer self a girl mate. This drinkin' rum alone, is not good fer ye. Here take my spot at the bar, let me order ye a smorrebrod and some coffee."

With Captain Striker eating some food, Jacky returns to Ransom.

I take in the breathtakingly romantic scene and listen to the lovely music as the tantalising aroma of coconut shrimp fills the Pub. I look at Jacky in amazment.

"Pinch me , luv, 'cause I think I've died and gone to heaven."

Jacky leans forward, "Heaven is just a state of mind luv." Then Jacky leans back into his chair to enjoy the moment.

A bar maid pulls up a chair near their table. A Chinese musician with a Servais cello sits in the chair and begins to play 'Gabriel's Oboe'. The appetizer chef from the galley, asks Jacky if he may serve the shrimp appetizer. Without too much fanfare, a tray with not one, but four pineapple dipping sauces, is brought to the table. The coconut shrimp are on skewers, over a dozen of them, carefully arranged on a cut pineapple half. The sauces are each presented in coconut shells on a bed of banana leafs with small tropical flowers. Another bar maid brings a silver candelabra to the table, a fresh bottle of champagne is quickly brought to the table and a smile returns to Jacky's face.

21) The movie is shot in Los Angeles, and the subtitles are in English.

I watch Jacky reseat himself after the trip to the galley. "Jacky, luv, why do you have that shite-eating grin on your face?"

Jacky pulls in the corners of his mouth, "What grin?"

Let's put it this way. I'm 5' 6", weigh 116 lbs, which is what I weighed in high school. I wear a size 4 Gap jean. I gave up worring about cleavage a long time ago. On a brisk day, and if I'm standing up straight, I can still pass the pencil test (if you CAN'T hold a pencil under your "girls", then you can go without a bra—in theory). For someone of my age, that's achievement enough!

"Brag, brag, brag... Ye just gettin' all the lads hot and bothered wit' the pencil test. No pencil tests for the lads, thar be other tests which we can't describe in mixed company."

"So what's it like bein' a supermodel?"

"Let me talk t' the galley chef here, about the coconut shrimp. I've had the shrimp wit' an inspired rum dippin' sauce, but I'll ask about the pineapple dippin' sauce."

A sign is posted on the galley door of the pub and it reads, 'Don't bother the chef! No substitutions! Enter on pain o' death! Stay out! This means you Jacky!' Signed 'E'. Jacky pushes the door of the kitchen open. The Portuguese chef see's him and grabs a clever, and addresses Jacky, "Come to gloat over the fact your cajun jambalaya was better? I told you my paprika was bad!"

Jacky replys, "No! I have a dinin' companion, who is fussin' about shrimp dippin' sauces. Can ye do a pineapple one? I'll bring ye some fresh paprika, and some of those cayenne peppers ye luv!"

The chef puts down the clever, "Throw in some of your Creole seasoning into the bribe, and I'll make a dipping sauce she'll want to make love too!"

Jacky smiles, "Then we have an accord."

Jacky returns to the table.

Being a member of the "Gee I wish I had a bit more of those" I was heartened to read where for POTC, Kiera Knightly spent two hours in make up just to have her cleavage air-brushed on. Flat as the proverbial board, is that girl.

I even went to a Victoria's Secret years ago, and was informed that their wonder bra would give anyone a cleavage. Sigh....apparently, even the wonder bra needs material to work with.

"Not sure why cleavage is that important to slim gal. Consider the followin': Do ye have a flat stomach? Arr yer hips bigger than yer waist? Would ye say yer legs or yer torso is longer (probably legs)? If ye answered affirmative to these questions, then yer a supermodel! Most of them don't have much cleavage either."

"And the lobster sounds fine. How about some coconut shrimp with pineapple dipping sauce as well? We can use Killingsworth as a "taster" just to be safe." 

"Aye, food poisoning... I'll let Killingsworth be the taster, as long as it be his last meal!"

"Let me talk t' the galley chef here, about the coconut shrimp. I've had the shrimp wit' an inspired rum dippin' sauce, but I'll ask about the pineapple dippin' sauce."

Jacky turns to Killingsworth, "Do ye have a lousy problem, or did ye eat bad shell fish?"

Pauses, "Is that why ye wear a wig? Did ye shave yer head, because ye were a nitwit or just had nits?"

Takes another sip of champagne. "Jacky, I'm not really very hungry, but a little appitizer might be nice. What are you in the mood for?"

Have ye tried the lobster here? No claws like it's New England cousin. What say ye, we can share some lobster ceviche wit' a grilled papaya salad? Not t' worry they cook the lobster first, and ye won't eat better.

Silkie inspects Robbie from stem to stern fore deck to aft. After careful consideration she says,

I declare dis vessel fit fer sailin!" As MerryDeath would say "Save a ship, ride a pirate!"

"I don't know about his sea worthiness, Silkie. If he sneezes, his head might go rollin' around the pub!"

"Be nice, tis a place to have fun and meet and greet and yes even play with the others, no offense is meant. To any. Savvy?"

"Define nice." Jacky chuckles.

Jacky turns to Mistress McKinney, "Aye, I enjoy lady Ransom's company more than I may say, very perceptive Mistress McKinney." Jacky see's a face he hasn't seen in a while; it's Silkie. He smiles and nods to her.

Jacky says to Ransom, "Ye still have not touched the drink, yer probably hungry. Where arr me manners, can I offer ye somethin' to eat?"

'Care for some champagne?'

"Yes, thank ye. Wit' or wit' out glasses?"

Gives him an apraising look. "Your choice."

"Temptress!" Jacky pours champagne and a tot of tatoo into a glass, and sends the other glass back t' the bar. Jacky offers the drink to Ransom.

'Care for some champagne?'

"Yes, thank ye. Wit' or wit' out glasses?"

T' Ragin' Robbie,

I believe ye have a better command of the king's english than most. Ye have wit, but yer vitriolic posts will light shorter fuses than mine.

I ask ye t' consider turnin' the other cheek, once and awhile, to those who are no threat t' ye. I'm glad ye have a good home life, as many do not.

I respect yer right to scuttle ships as ye see fit; I just ask ye to remember the pub is not a ship.

In this thread, we arr silly pirates and our posturin' is designed to entertain and hopefully make people laugh. Come in as our guest and mayhaps one day ye may leave as a friend.

Jacky Tar

...as to stumble into the Pub wearing naught but my birthday suit. But," Blushes, "I might need more than just a hat. Maybe a hat and a nice sash." 

Jackie moves closer and whispers, "I would take the clothes off my back, to maintain yer modesty. But I do think a blue sash would compliment those eyes!"

“Oh dear, oh dear and ah me”, Ragin’ Robbie thinks to himself. “Such a pity in a witty stream that some of these posturers have not the brain power to contribute to the jest.” 

“Nay”, thinks Robbie, “I will not lower mys’ell to that level.” 

“Then again”, he ponders, “I could use sarcasm and discuss her unfortunate aspect, make merry about her deplorable personal hygiene and speculate on her absence of character among this strangely noble yet bent throng.”  “Pearls before swine and a waste of words”, he decides.  “That slatternly shiela is definitely more than a few ants short of a picnic”.

"That was a bit rough. What kind of piker are ye, that ye think yer better then everyone else? Trouble and strife at home and yer not gettin' any? No one wants t' play wit' ye, cause yer nasty! Go back t' yer idiot box, have a tinnie and come back here when yer done bein' a wally!"

"We welcome new faces here at the pub, it keeps things lively. But, ease up on the shielas or we'll all be given ye GBH's!"

Sterling's head pops up from the crowd..."Did someone say Ransom is sans clothing?"

"Tis true we hear what we want t' hear, hey Captain; and I hear Aurore callin' ye, Captain Sterling."

"Of course you can buy me a drink. My favorite, if you don't mind. Champagne with a tot of tattoo. As for being a good samaritan, why, surely you would do me the same honor, should I be so in my cups...er, glasses...as to stumble into the Pub wearing naught but my birthday suit. But," Blushes, "I might need more than just a hat. Maybe a hat and a nice sash." 

"Ray a bottle of Champagne and a bottle of Tattoo, sans cups and glasses, so that the lady Ransom has no need to model hats!"

With Striker's main mast no longer swaying in the wind. A modicum amount of decorum returns to the pub. The scoundrels are ploting, the drunks align the floor boards and the lads are drinking at the bar.

Jacky Tar enters the bar, and spies Ransom sitting alone at a table. "May I join ye?" She smiles and nods. "Ye are wit' out a doubt a friend t' those in need. I hope if I ever run thru here wit' out a shred of clothin' or sense, yer here t' save my last shred of dignity!"

"May I buy a drink, fer my favorite good samaritan?"

"I'll take the one hand, so long as you keep the other on that hat!"

I pull Striker to his feet. "There now. Can ya make it into the Pub, or would you rather find some clothes? I have to tell you, if you walk into the pub wearing nothing but a hat, they're liable to Beat to Quarters!

"Aye , some clothing would do wonders " Striker said

Suddenly his eyes caught sight of Tess St.Claire standing in the doorway to the tavern.

"why does the looks hunt me ? " Tess mocks Striker

"Thou art killing me ! "

Striker turns his head towards Ransom and says "You truly are a friend in need ..."

"As soon as I get clothed I will buy round for you and Jacky "

Jacky ponders, we threw him in wit' clothes on, we pulled him out with clothes on; we even gave him a blanket and offered him dry clothing! Now he's usin' me hat as a cod piece. (Note to self, need new hat.)

"I'll take him from here Ransom." Striker trys to give Jacky the hat. "No, keep the hat lad. Best we find where ye laid yer clothes, then will collect yer affects (hat, sword, and pistol) from Ray, later."

Jacky walks Striker back along the pier, and they pick up his clothing.

Striker stands up but suddenly the whole tavern started to turn around him.

He quickly caught the edge of a table , but little did it help.

Down went Striker as new lumbered tree and hit the floor.

"For helvede .... Jeg tror at det er nok drikkeri for mig " Striker complains in Danish with his head between two floor boards .

"Tar ,why don't you help this stranded sailor and put me back to my seat ?"

Striker looks up at Jacky .

Jacky hoists Striker back in to a chair. Jacky beckons to the lads at the bar. The lads lift Captain Striker, they take his affects and hand them to Ray. They carry Striker out the pub and on to the pier; with a heave and a ho, they toss him into the bay. Thankfully none speak Danish, but it did sound colorful.

The cold water can be very sobering, and Striker swims back to the pier. Jacky throws a blanket over the man's shoulders and offers him a change of clothes. The two men laugh and walk back to the pub.

"I don't care about that female serpent ...HIC '... just tired of being ignored "

Striker turns his head and looks at Jacky Tar "I just yearn for my Island ... Zeeland "

"Mayhaps I have been out too long .... even in the Rum's keg ... HIC'..."

"And yes my clothes does smell as the drink I have on my hands "

Striker wipes some of the amber drops of his chin

"and face !" Striker laughs

"Aye, I miss read ye. Well welcome t' the Caribbean lad, where the rhum flows freely; as I see ye have already discovered. Of course we don't usually bath wit' it, like ye have chosen to do. Do ye have yer sea legs lad? Can ye stand lad?"

Not wanting the good Captain to join the drunks on the floor, Jacky motions to a bar maid for a cup of joe.