<<--previous- home- next-->>

"Gentlemen, I know that ship's articles forbid dueling onboard," I said, touching my fingertips to my pendant, " but my opponent was the first to draw weapon." This speech struck the drunken buccaneers as most amusing. Some rolled on the deck laughing as others rushed forward with open arms to embrace me. A few of them held back, though, and of these I took most careful note, for future reference. Presently, the pitch of hilarity died away, and I continued my speech. "Brave marooners and jolly rogues, if your ship is as most are, your quartermaster was also your navigator, and I have now deprived you of him. Yet you have a blindman imprisoned in your hold that was once the finest navigator in the West Indies. I am his eyes. Let the two of us give you back what I have taken away -- elect us navigator, and give us the share of but a single sailor. Could you gain a finer bargain than that?"

The crew were so taken with this speech that they agreed to a vote on the spot, and released Mr. Birdsong from the hold. No one else aboard could navigate, so our gamble paid off. They elected the two of us navigator of the ship. "Give us a tune, musician," cried one of the tars. The fiddler took up his instrument and began to play, and the crew began to sing, some yodeling unbearably: With the black flag aloft and our powder kept dry, We will sail through the surf and raise up with a cry, Let the kings and the dukes take a fokke on the fly, For we'll unsheathe our swords and we'll poke out their eye, And we'll sail with the gold to the East, lads, We are travelers from West to the East -- lads! ...and on in that vein they went, through the night, lime juicy rum punch flowing freely as bilge water.

<<--previous- home- Next -->>

Copyright © Michael B.Stevens, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2005. All rights reserved. Format modified Aug. 2005