Jacky Tar

Aye, shenanigans like drunken sword fights are why some events won't allow blades (even peace tied).

While pirate sword trainin' classes are few, an far in-between; ye might consider Kendo classes, which are poppin' up all over the place. In Kendo classes, ye'll find plenty o' lads an lasses, willing t' whack some sense in t' ye.

'Sides ye'll develop some skills t' deal wit' those pesky Ninjas, t' boot.

A red head, an it's yer birthday? Aye, how we does love the red heads!

A very Happy Birthday Red Jessi.

"We best let this one pass, sir." Stones muttered.

I nodded, "Aye, hoist the anchor, an let's stay clear o' this one's wake. I don't suppose we'll be so lucky next time, if our paths should cross again."

"I wonder how the Cat an Nate are fairin' wit their new shipmates," I said, wit a bit o' disdain.

So how is this day any different than any other day?

Aye, it's yer birthday! The day they broke the mold, an threatened the mold maker (as if he'd be that silly, or brave, t' make another!).

Well I'm sure ye hav a bad case o' happy feet, t'day; an why shouldn't ye, it's another chance t' rework that story about this bein' the anniversary of yer 29th birthday.

I fer one am glad yer still dancin' around the sun.

Happy Birthday Ransom!

WD

JT

Eyes, sorry I'm so late t' yer party, mate. I hope Sweet Cricket, an that surly lot (ye call a crew), took ye out t' celebrate in grand pirate style.

Happy Belated Birthday Eyes.

I hope this day includes sailin' on ships, shootin' black powder an things that go boom, or playin' wit' pointy things.

Happy Birthday Red-Handed Jill!

Stones looked at me, an meekly asked, "Will ye be answerin' the Flodden's captain, sir?"

I was busy watchin' Red CAt, an Nate, an I replied, "Well that would depend on whether or not he opens fire on those two!"

Stones, turned in time t' watch the pair, beach the sloop. "Lord help us," he muttered.

"Aye, while ye can't count on them t' do the right thing, ye can always count on 'em t' do somethin' else." I said wit' a grimace.

Hey! No trade secrets!

I didn't think that was a secret!

My heart belongs to Ojai this year....

Wot? I know I had that thing stashed around here somewhere... Where's that jar o' dirt?

Oops!

(blows out the candles on the cake)

'Course it's a rum cake... it should keep til' the 24th.

Wot's this? Did Red-Handed Jill escape the humiliating... er I mean the humble natal day celebration that befits any pirate o' her stature!

Aye, she's short, but a crack shot; so, keep yer birthday barbs short, an then run fer the nearest exit!

Happy Belated Birthday, Red-Handed Jill.

The Flodden had raised a flag, t' which I remarked, "So, the dance begins!"

"Stones, bring us in position across their bow, that's where we'll drop anchor." I smiled, "They want t' talk, we'll talk."

Billy Bones, I'm interested in the pistols as well, an I sent ye an email, too.

I know the first time JT and I met at Ojai, one of the first place we stopped was the belly dancing stage.

Now Ransom... ye know the belly dancer I stopped t' watch was a friend... Aye, an those other dancers wanted t' be friends, too!

An well... I'm a friendly fella... ask any belly dancer!

A very Happy Birthday t' ye, BriarRose!

I do hope the lads treated ye in grand style, on yer natal day, lass.

Blackfoot love! Hugs! Welcome back, glad to have you here.

Silkie, get yer mitts off the lad; I'm sure he gets enough o' those hugs at home!

Can't ye see the lad needs t' do some dancin' on table tops, a pirate beach party (or two), an a good ol' bar fight thrown in fer good measure!

Never saw no messages in a bottle?

Fair winds an followin' seas (an no brigs, unless yer sailin' in one),

Jacky Tar

I think I tripped ov'r a Blackfoot in the pub once... Nay maybe it were a Lakota Sioux... I can never keep them straight!

Wot's the matter lad, not enough testosterone round the home front? I'm sure we can convince Dorian t' get in a bar fight wit' ye; although, the lad hasn't wrestled wit' swords in a while (he might be rusty). We might even get someone t' break a bar stool ov'r yer head, fer ol' time's sake.

Ho hum, well let me be the first t' welcome ye, wit' a boot t' yer back side, an then I'll buy ye a drink!

(By the bye, I hope the Mermaid, an the wee one are well.)

We heard a loud crack, wot I believed t' be a rifle shot, an watched the longboats hastily change course t' return t' the other brig.

"At least the captain o' the Flodden, has sense enough t' return t' his vessel, if alerted." I muttered, an instructed Stones t' hold our present course.

Smithe asked if we should run up a flag o' truce, or at least run out some colors? "Nay, lets see their colors first," I replied. "After all, we aren't the ones attackin' ships o' the Spanish crown."

"Hold him off! I'm not goin' t' run from him." I swung about, an set my gaze on the other brig. "Sniff us... Wot kind o' mongrel are we dealin' wit?"

The deck hands were securin' the divin' barrel, Jonesy an the lads were aloft prepared t' unfurl the main sail, an finally the anchor was hoisted.

I heard Ransom's warnin', an shouted back, "Wot aren't ye tellin' me 'bout the captain o' that ship? Any reason ye believe he might attack my ship?"

I turned t' Stones, "Unless I'm mistaken, the captain o' that brig got in t' a long boat t' chase after those Spaniards. But if he's daft enough t' chase them on foot, wot is t' stop him from comin' after us next?"

I shouted again t' Ransom, "Noted, ye won't hav me back against that brig!"

"Stones, take us in closer fer a chat wit' the crew o' that Brig... Wot did Ransom call it? Aye, the Flodden."

"Dillard, hav the lads man the guns. If the crew o' the Flodden so much as sneezes in our direction, I'll sink her 'fore her captain can return."

We watched the fate o' the Spanish vessel through the smoke. The attackin' brig was putting boats in the water, an looked poised t' chase the Spaniards on land, if need be.

"They appear t' be ready t' give chase on foot!" I shook my head, "The Spaniard's ship is sinkin' an the few survivors will die, if left on that rock. Someone doesn't want t' wait fer time an the elements t' finish them off."

Lowering' the spyglass, I made a final remark, "Let's hope the captain o' that brig is only after Spanish ships!"

A belated Happy Natal Day, an best wishes always, Merrydeath!

Glad t' hear that those close t' ye made yer day special, luv.

"Mister Dillard, send someone t' the galley t' fetch somethin' for us t' eat," I said, after dressin' on deck.

"Oi, an Dillard! See, that ye steer clear o' Rosie yer self, as I may want ye t' join us on the next dive." Stones snorted, after that last remark. Everyone knew Rosie might try t' cut Dillard's throat, fer she'd almost flayed the man outside the galley, recently.

I looked at Stones, "I need some way t' kill that shark." Stones nodded, but he offered no suggestions.

Baja battered shrimp tacos and a Corona (Why did I eat so many chips... ugh!).

A grown man in a baseball uniform (Some things are only meant t' be worn at the ball park).

My son's basketball coach.

Ah... the CAt!