Right, of course you will! Glad we’ve got that sorted out.

See you there!

Can’t give an exact date just yet. Depends on when we can find the mystical amulet that controls the work speed of the undead mixing monkeys. Wish us luck, mates!

(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

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!”

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.

No matter what — if any — afterlife you may believe in, you can agree that as long as she is remembered and celebrated, she is never truly gone. She lives on in the hearts and minds of her friends and family.

Sandra Gilbert-Everett
June 12, 1947 – October 10, 2011
Beloved wife, mother, counselor, chest wench and friend
“Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight and ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight ~
I am the soft star shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there ~ I did not die.”
-Mary E. Frye

We’ll let Black Dog explain further. In the meanwhile, you can find the song here: Pirates for Sail Go Nautical on “Rock Lobster” (Cover Me Premiere).

Or just listen to it here! Rock Lobster

When we hear people’s stories and see stats like these, we get angry:

• Every two minutes, someone in the United States is sexually assaulted.

• 44% of victims are under age 18.

• 15 out of 16 rapists never spend a day in jail.

So we’re taking a stand. This summer, I’ve pledged to walk 1 million steps and raise $1,000 this summer to benefit the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network. RAINN is the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization, and operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline and the National Sexual Assault Online Hotline. They also recently started a confidential helpline in cooperation with the Department of Defense to aid members of the military who are assaulted.

As a crew, we’re holding a fundraiser on June 10 at Piratz Tavern in Silver Spring to benefit the cause. That night, all our tips will go to RAINN, as well as $4 from each CD sale. Rosie the belly dancer has also generously agreed to donate her tips.

Please join us and support the cause!

If you’re unable to attend, you can still support us by donating here: http://karma411.com/1MSteps.

Help us make it clear to scalliwags everywhere that NAY means NAY!

Sure, those of us who braved the rain and gales to get there early were disappointed to get the word that the Beer Garden had died before it ever lived (a casualty to be mourned, even for those like myself who prefer not to imbibe in that particular form of alcohol). There may have even been several utterances of words that should probably not be repeated here. But what do pirates do when the weather’s rough? They take over the nearest pub and do whatever the bloody hell they like, that’s what!

And so we did. We had a damn good party with every pirate who would party with us through the downpour outside, be they fellow performers who’d traveled a long ways to have their respective stages replaced by a corner of the Greene Turtle, old friends and new who’d decided to brave the storm for a pirate invasion, or just the inebriated bilge rats who’d been drinking since the Pirate Ball the night before and didn’t notice that anything had gone awry in the plans.

Here’s to making the most out of a bad situation! …And telling Calypso to sod off.