Captain on Deck-The Truth Be Told-Episode One

The tale of Pirates for Sail is quite extraordinary, or so I am told. In fact, it was not only extraordinary it was, exceptional, stupendous, remarkable, wondrous and grand, as well as unlikely, improbable and unbelievable. I would know, I was there, I am the Captain.

Our story begins in April of the year two thousand and five.. The same year that Johnny Depp made piracy the preferred profession for the 21st century, I was about to embark on the most ridiculous excursions I had ever conjured up. I wanted to be a pirate captain, if only in my own mind (that really shouldn’t be allowed to wander out on its own), and the fact that I was nearing 50 and most likely would not be swinging through anybody’s rigging any time in the near or far future would not dissuade me from my goal.

If some people are driven to excess, then at times I must be a Nascar driver. When the option was offered to me by my family and friends to do whatever crazy inane adventure I wanted on that day that is reserved for the most honorable of professions, the celebration of mothers, that day we so affectionately refer to as…”Mother’s Day” They knew I was prone to moments of insanity and I saw my opportunity. I said to my husband (who was not yet my husband), “Dear, I want to go down to Baltimore Inner Harbor and go sailing on this really big clipper ship they have there, and let’s take Jim (and his girlfriend at the time) … (long pause as I take stock his reaction and how I can add the coup de gras when I say) …”and I want to go dressed as pirates, and Jim can take his guitar.” Another long pause as Tim takes stock of his horror and the facts and the knowledge that we will probably do this anyway and simply says, “I don’t think so.”

 The die was cast. We were going. I never doubted what we would. I must admit to the humiliating antics that I “encouraged” my husband and dear friends to endure. I coerced, blackmailed, manipulated and guilted them, explaining how unfair it would be if they denied me my Mother’s Day wish. Before the fateful day arrived, I prepared. Providing us all with such fine garb as ski pants (teal green), flowered vests (for the men), civil war belts and pinned down cowboy hats, along with a bodice and skirt I had from a renaissance faire a couple of years before. We consumed some liquid /herbal courage and advanced on the local golf course. I felt like the pied piper as we stealthily executed our attack on the 9th hole, and not the least bit concerned that we looked slightly conspicuous in our bright clothing and loud greetings of “Ahoy, avast and aye captain” (my personal favorite to this day) as we frolicked (yes, we frolicked) on the moonlit green.

 Join me next time as we take our first prize…Columbia Mall and the beginning of the pressgang…..