Jacky Tar

(Need a better mouse trap... er CAt trap!)

Toast

GAllows

(CAn too, an the feathers lead t' JFK!)

CAnAry

CAt

Careful Lady Barbossa, yer going t' give pyracy a good name.

Huzzah!

Never too early t' party wit' Herself, an usually never too late, either (though she is keepin' early hours lately).

Happy Birthday Iron Bess!

"Mister Dillard, I'm not sure wot concern the sea worthiness o' the Rakehell is t' ye. If yer volunteering t' help wit' repairs aboard the Rakehell, arrangements can be made." Dillard's concern fer the Rakehell, an willingness t' be transfered t' the other ship, seemed t' pass quickly.

"Silkie, if yer more inclined than Mister Dillard, t' join the crew o' the Rakehell, I'll extend t' ye the same offer!"

"I believe the captain o' the Rakehell, has worn out her welcome aboard this ship, for the time being. She left us in Havana wit' the excuse o' leading the Spanish away. She then left us alone again, t' face that galleon; no doubt she thought t' lead them away, too."

"Where we are goin' there maybe more Spanish galleons, an I doubt any will follow her, should she decide t' lead them away, once more."

"So, while I too wish the captain an crew o' the Rakehell no ill will; I can't wait fer them t' lead away the galleon, which now follows us in earnest. Nor can I tow them, all the way t' the Dry Tortugas."

A fine thing, she just returns t' the pub, and threatens carnage, if she doesn't get a drink!

By all means Ray, give the lass a glass o' milk, an speed her on her way.

I caught Stones lookin' back over his shoulder, in the direction o' the Rakehell, so I asked, "Anyone back there burst in t' flames?" He shook his head. "There must be a lot o' smoke, or a least a little steam, trailin' that ship?" I continued. Stones smiled, an set his gaze towards our bow.

I'm sure she is furious, but t' lag now would only let that galleon close on us.

Silkie surprised me, when she took me arm, an I remarked, "Ye look fetchin' lass. But ye best go below an change, 'fore the Spanish catch up t' us."

I turned back t' Ransom, an shouted, "We'll arrange a parley, when we've reached a favorable anchorage in the Dry Tortugas. That is, if ye plan on doggin' us that far?" I saw the look of disgust on her face, or perhaps it was disbelief, 'fore I turned t' Stones an shouted t' veer away from the Rakehell.

I glared back at Ransom, as she hung from that rat line, an shouted "Unless ye want a few more holes, ye best get Nate away from those cannons. That sailor, an holes in ships seem t' go hand in hand!"

All eyes on both ships turned towards Nate, who was resting a foot on one deck gun, while nervously twistin' a swivel gun.

As I approached the railing, where most o' the crew was standin', I noticed me stocking fluttering in the breeze, attached t' a rat line, above her head. Was the stocking meant as flag o' truce, or a trophy?

"Alright lads, return t' yer stations, I'll speak t' their captain." I shouted.

I shouted in the direction o' the Rakehell, "Ahoy, captain o' the Rakehell, state yer business."

Guaranteed

(She always connects; it's a curse.)

Frying pan

(Nay, Rosie uses the rollin' pin t' get yer attention, an lays ye out wit' the frying pan.)

Funny, I had heard that Cheeky was openin' up positions fer BF# 4, BF# 5, and BF# 6; seems she needs t' fill out the rest o' the week, when the hubby an captain aren't around.

------

Mojo salad wit' shrimp

Not much

Anyone that would listen (my daughter turned 14 t'day)

Ransom, Silkie, and Red Cat

Belaying pin

(A tranquilizer we use aboard the Relentless.)

Medication

(I've been told they treat depression wit' pills.)

Inspiration

(Depression often leads t' inspiration fer many writers.)

Self-plagiarism

(When a writer had imagination once.)

Duchess, fighter pilot, pirate, belly dancer, and scientist... very impressive.

Ye look like a female Steve Canyon, wit' the helmet.

Forger

(An unappreciated artist.)

The storm was abatin', an I could hear peals o' laughter comin' from the galley. I needed t' lie down or fall down, an as always Stones was ready t' take the helm.

"I'll be damned," I muttered, fer it appeared that the ship off our stern sported raked sails.

A man o' few words, even Stones said she must be holdin' herself t'gether wit' bits o' twine.

"No," I replied, "Just held t'gether by an iron willed captain!" There was little doubt that it was the Rakehell, which despite the beatin' she'd taken, was plyin' these waters.

This storm was nothin', compared t' those we weathered in these parts in the past. The rain didn't dampen the crew's spirits either, and it was a relief t' be back at sea. No one was happier than I, not be staring' down the barrels o' those Spanish guns.

We'd lightened the sails, an 'tween the flashes in another wise dark sky, we caught a glimpse o' a ship off our stern. Too few masts t' be the Spanish galleon, an too busy wit' the tempest 'fore us, t' be a threat at the present time.

Aye Eyes, me visit was brief an un-announced. It was fun watchin' ye swear in a few young pirates, though.

T' their credit, the Double Cross crew had captured the end o' the pier, an had the fire power t' keep it.

The Pirates of Port Royal had staked out the beach, an were givin' away treasures (balloon swords an all things shiny) t' young scalawags.

Scarlett Harlot could be found walkin' the board walk, an breakin' hearts.

The Doxie Chicks, an our own Iron Bess (Port of New Providence) were performin' in the Pirates of Port Royal encampment, too!

I would only voice one complaint, an that was the shortage o' free parkin'; the free parkin' went fast, an the nearby parkin' required the coin o' the realm, an nowhere t' plunder said coin (which sent this pirate packin' early).

Haven't seen the lad since he became a daddy. Hope the mermaid an the little pirate are lookin' after our princely pirate.

Happy Birthday Blackfoot. We know yer days are full and prospects bright.

Fair winds at yer back, mate!