Pirates for Sail

Okay, so I’ll jump on the bandwagon too and share my own pyratical Christmas tale:

(Lyrics by Steve Boehm; tune: Good King Wenceslas, traditional)

Captain Molly Mudd look’d out on her crew of Pyrates
Christmas plunder was in doubt, they had no Gold to buy it
“Come me Hardies, don’t be glum, we’ll go out and pillage
“We’ll find Silver, Gold, and Rum in every coastal Village”

They weigh’d anchor and set sail for the Inner Harbor
Guns a-blazin’ from the rails, at both port and starboard
Made they such a fearsome noise, no one dare’d to stop ’em
“Come, let’s go a-shore now, boys, and do our Christmas shoppin’”

As the Pyrate horde advanc’d, shopkeepers did tremble
Buildings burn’d and windows smash’d as Buccaneers assembl’d
Many tried to call them off, they begg’d and tried to reason
But at them the Brigands scoff’d—’twas the plund’rin’ season

Loudly did the Town lament, “Can nobody save us?
“For these Pyrates we resent—who here is the bravest?
“What would make them sail away, and in peace, pray, leave us?
“For their drunken, plund’rous ways sorely vex and grieve us”

Then there came a man, ’tis said, One-Eye’d Nick the Jolly
Crimson clad from toe to head, he call’d on Captain Molly
“Pray now, may I come aboard? Let us sit and parley
“We shall come to some Accord, just in time for Christmas Day”

“Come we seeking Christmas gifts, ’tis the Season’s Treasure
“Christmas Day approaches swift, and Pyrates ask their measure
“This here be our Christmas List, we pray you will deliver
“If you fill this Christmas wish, we’ll sail down the River

“Cable and some canvas Sails, so our Ship won’t flounder
“And new Cannons at the rail, a pair of 16-pounders
“Powder and some English flints, so we can fire our Pistols
“Carpenters to patch our rents, and wenches fresh from Bristol

“Cutlasses and treasure maps and our own Jolly Roger
“Pyrate boots and tricorn hats, if it be no bother
“Five and 20 casks of Rum, and caviar Beluga
“And a perhaps a winter Home, somewhere on Tortuga”

Jolly One-Eye’d Nick agree’d to fill the Pyrates’ Wish
All the Pyrate booty he deliver’d to their Ship
In a Christmas fog so thick, the Pyrates sail’d away
And the Town cheer’d Jolly Nick, for Shanty Claus had sav’d the Day

Learn this Lesson well, boys, in this Season full of Wonder
At this time of Christmas Joy, it’s all about the Plunder
Therefore, Buccaneers, be sure, though fair or foul the Weather
In this Season, pillaging binds Pyrate Hearts together

T’was the night before X-Mas and all through the ‘Ferret,
Not a crewman was sober, not even the parrot.
The hammocks were hung for to help some to snore,
Though it mattered not, most were passed out on the floor.

The Captain, however, awake though unhindered,
Decided to stay on the deck and so lingered,
With Last Mate and Stringalong and a barrel of brandy,
Coming up with a battle plan which they all found dandy.

“Captain Nick,” said our leader, “That bastard will pay!
He’ll give us his treasure or we’ll blow him away!
On my honor as Captain, on my oath, on my creed,
He’ll surrender our presents, he’ll surrender, indeed!”

Not a moment had passed when with a crash the ship lurched,
And knocked poor old Stringalong off the rail he’d been perched.
As he splashed in the water Captain sprung to her feet,
Crying “Our enemy’s arrived! Tim, ready my fleet!”

“Ye’ve got but one ship, dear,” The Late Mate explained,
Then watched as the color from Captain’s cheeks drained.
“I knew that!” she stammered, then whistle she blew,
“Our ship’s been attacked! Where the hell is my crew?!”

“Oi One-Eye, Dogg, Morgann, Chanté, Finn and Skippy,
Hey Black Dog, Gute, Red Jack, Flint, Rackham, and Annie!
Tell Lassie and Misty to ready their fire,
Then get all yer weapons, we’ve gifts to acquire!”

In an instant the wooden boat creaked and it clattered,
And the drunken crew stumbled to see what was the matter,
“It’s not Nick,” said Lassie as above deck she bound,
“The prow’s in the sand, Cap, the ship’s run aground!”

“Again?” muttered One-Eye as he sadly sheathed Blinky,
“Didn’t we sink Nick?” asked Gute, scratching head with a pinky.
“…Oh, right,” said the Captain, now feeling a bit dim.
“Well…someone should probably go fish out Jim.”

Despite the “small” setbacks the crew had their cheer,
And talked of the presents they’d buy themselves the next year.
When from the deep they thought they heard Captain Nick yell,
“F*** all of you pirates, I’ll see you in hell!”

Seeing as how I’ve had the fortune (or quite possibly misfortune — I’m not entirely sure yet) of becoming acquainted with a few members of this lot of ne’er-do-wells, I thought I would share with you a very festive tale of plundering and hijinks from the crew of The Dirty Maid.

If you’ve been having problems viewing the site or dealing with emailing the Captain or using our contact form, apologies all around! We’ve been moving to a shiny new website at a shiny new hosting service…and by “we’ve” I pretty much mean “I’ve”, so any and all blame, hate mail, throwing daggers, etc. can be sent my way. Should be all sorted out shortly! Pardon the dust and whatnot.

In the meanwhile, here’s a fun video of Lassie giving Stringalong and Gute carpal tunnel (or possibly a heart attack) back at the Wilmington Pirate Festival this past June! Many thanks to John Coffey!

Pirates For Sail at Kalmar Nyckel from John Coffey on Vimeo.