Aye, night on deck of a pirate ship be a lonely, melancholy time, especially at stern on the poop deck where the great lantern hangs.
Aye, we could tell a ships of war by the three poop-lanterns. There were also deck-lanterns, fighting-lanterns , magazine-lanterns, etc.
We knew to douse our poop-lantern and scamper away into the night when we saw a man-o-war approaching.
A cannon is the well-known piece of artillery, mounted in battery on board a ship. It is made of brass or iron.
The principal parts are:
1st. The breech, together with the cascable and its button, called by seamen the pomelion. The breech in of solid metal, from the bottom of the concave cylinder or chamber to the cascable.
2nd. The trunnions, which project on each side, and serve to support the cannon, hold it almost in equilibrio.
3rd. The bore or caliber, is the interior of the cylinder, wherein the powder and shot are lodged when the cannon is loaded. The entrance of the bore is called the mouth or muzzle. It may be generally tapering, with the various modifications of first and second reinforce and swell, to the muzzle or forward end.
Aye, she be a beauty.
Lookin’ at the likeness o’ the Good Ship Literacy, an observant bloke will note the prevalence o’ sails on a pirate ship. Ye see all those seams in the sails and the ropes attached to them? There be proper names for each.
To make a sail ye’ll want to be seaming the clothes together; cutting the gores; tabling and sewing on the reef, belly, lining, and buntline bands, roping and marling on the clues and foot-rope. Do these actions and ye’ll be ready to mount the sail.
Aye ye will.
“Mother of wages” you’d think would be referin’ to industrious labor or, for a pirate… findin’ treasure or bringin’ plunder or leadin’ battle or somethin’ akin.
But you’d be in error. By English maritime law, freight became the mother of wages, as the crew were obliged to moor the ship on her return in the docks or forfeit them.
So severely was the axiom maintained, that if a ship was lost by misfortune, tempest, enemy, or fire, wages also were forfeited, because the freight out of which they were to arise had perished with it.
Are you not glad that law was done away with. But come to think of pirates never paid any attention to law anyway. So have done with it.
I thought I’d spotted a treasure chest resting on the ocean floor beneath the Good Ship Literacy. I took a deep breath and plunged into the clear water. I’d determined that the suspected treasure chest was nothing but a shapely piece of coral. I was about to return to the surface, when I looked up and, to my consternation, spotted a man-o-war sized stingray cruising toward me.
I expected the worst but was delighted when the gorgeous creature slowed to an idle state and spoke to me. I was so surprised that a stingray could talk that I had to ask her to repeat what she had said. She rolled her eyes, came closer and whispered, “Follow me… there’s a sunken ship near by.”
I brought my courage into line and followed the graceful ray. Sure enough, not more than 50 stokes away there was a sunken sloop resting on a ridge. Inside, sealed in waterproof barrels, were dozens of leather bound books written by the ancient masters. It was indeed a great find.
I thanked the ray, who grinned, blew a stream of bubbles, then gracefully flapped away. By then I was almost out of air. I quickly surfaced, caught my breath and directed a pirate crew to retrieve the sunken treasure.
We’ll sail to the nearest port and find receptive young ones and give the books away. Glad I didn’t run into Davy Jones.
If ye’ve paid any kind of attention at all to Captain Book ye’ve heard him say, “By readin’ books, you can go anywhere you want to go and be anything you want to be.”
The sturdy ship Surprise sat peacefully in a charming port in the Americas. She was moored next to a government building. It was an incongruous sight to see her there, since from her flag staff she was flying the red flag meaning the vicious pirate ship would give no quarter to merchant ships in her sights who resisted capture. Surely the pirate captain knew that Royal authorities would see the dreaded sign and seize the outlaw. I have to tell ye leavin’ that dreaded sign flyin’ was a major oversight of the ship’s quartermaster and boatswain, not to mention the Captain himself.
To satiate me curiosity I boarded the vessel via the aft lanyard to investigate. Other than a few barrels o’ hardtack, sacks o’ grain, a store o’ cannon balls and gun powder she was deserted. I later learned that, sure enough, the authorities had spotted the ship’s red flag and after a brief battle at sea captured her and brought her into port. Now, the unruly crew sits in the local prison awaiting transport to Port Royal were they will surely be tried and hanged.
Me crew and I offered to furnish them with books to make their stay in prison productive. The local magistrate asked why we would bother. I told him that with pirates you never know and if they should escape doing some powerful reading might set them on a different path. “Aye!” says he, “reading is wholesome and can be redemptive. Bring on your plunder.” Aye, we did and have hopes that books will do their magic.
Aye, ’tis a fair hike from the Haliakala’s rim to the crater floor. Jolly and I made it to a mound o’ lava where we paused to rest. We’d not yet found booty of any sort, other than colorful, jazzed residue of ancient eruptions.
We stood for a turn of the hour glass enjoying the surrounding beauty o’ the otherworldly terrain. Ship’s quartermaster, Jan, did us service by sketching the two o’ us standin’ in the crater.
I gave Jolly a hand full o’ sunflower seeds to satiate her hunger, while I nibbled on fruit I’d plucked from a giving Guava tree near the island’s bountiful shore. For a good while the burdens that ordinarily weigh on a pirate ship’s captain seemed remote… etherial.
Me crew and meself rode mules from our anchorage to Lahaina Harbor. We were surprised at the sight of a fine four master sittin’ not far from shore. It was a proud Chilean pirate vessel… all shine and polish. She’d struck her skull and cross bone flag to avoid giving fright to those rowin’ about in pinnaces or lingering on shore. Her sails were furled snug in their boots. The lanyards and halyards were neatly trimmed. It delighted me ears to learn that this ship was also a ship, Named Many Volumes, was loaded with books. Even so there aren’t words to describe my delight when her commander, Captain Chapters, invited me aboard to take command of the learned ship. Quartermaster, Jan, sketched me visage standin’ on the ship’s bowsprit, pointin’ your direction, proud as a pheasant.
Mates, while anchored in Lahainasport, Maui, I persuaded the ship’s quartermaster, Jan, to lug her drawing and painting paraphernalia up the side of that formidable volcano, Haliakala and sketch meself standin’ by a colorful marker we discovered just below the mountain’s timberline. A half a league from the spot we came across Hosmer’s Grove a stand o’ trees the enterprising man planted to provide timber for the island’s needs. The experiment was a failure… but the remnants provide interesting walking trails and bird watching.
