A pirate and his hook.
A journalist in the 1950s decided that if he was going to interview one of the last remaining pirates alive he should do so quickly. There had been news about a pirate living in an old people’s home in Cornwall who had just reached the grand old age of 105. The journalist decided that he better get down there while he still had the chance.
He arrived and was ushered into the old salt’s room and was astonished to see the wizened figure had a wooden peg leg, a hook on one arm and a patch over one eye. The journo could not believe his luck.. Here was an authentic pirate with surely plenty of stories to tell.
Having got over the initial niceties, the journalist asked the old man how he had lost his leg…
“Well, you see, it’s like this… I was only 16 years old and we were having a bit of a lark on board since we had not spotted another ship for many days… They set up the plank and we took turns to walk as far as we could along it blindfolded… I have to admit that I had a bit of rum in me and when it came to my turn I fell off the end… luckily I had a rope around my waist and the lads pulled me back in sharpish like.. However, not before a shark charged in and took me leg off right above the knee.
The carpenter, who was our ship’s doctor, quick as a flash dipped my leg in boiling tar and two days later had made my peg leg… still wear the same one today and not a problem with it”
The journalist was duly impressed and then asked what had happened to his hand that had resulted in the hook.
“Ah well, you see it took me a while to get used to having a peg leg but I wanted to do my bit as part of the crew. So I insisted on scaling the rigging in a high wind and my peg leg slipped, my hand got caught in the rope and it took my hand right off.. But, the carpenter quick as a flash; whipped my stump into some boiling tar and in a few days had made me this hook, which is just as good today.”
“But what about your patch?” asked the journalist…thrilled with his scoop so far.
“Ah well, you see I was taking my turn in the crow’s nest and an albatross flew right over my head and shat in my eye…”
The journalist leant forward fascinated…” And that took your eye out?”
“Ah well, no…you see that was my first day with me hook!”
And where would a pirate be without his parrot.. or even budgie?????
And finally….. the tale of the Red Shirt…..
Long ago, when sailing ships ruled the waves, a captain and his crew were in danger of being boarded by a pirate ship. As the crew became frantic, the captain bellowed to his First Mate, “Bring me my red shirt!”
The First Mate quickly retrieved the captain’s red shirt, which the captain put on and led the crew to battle the pirate boarding party.
Although some casualties occurred among the crew, the pirates were repelled. Later that day, the lookout screamed that there were two pirate vessels sending boarding parties. The crew cowered in fear, but the captain, calm as ever, bellowed, “Bring me my red shirt!”
Once again the battle was on. However, the Captain and his crew repelled both boarding parties, though this time more casualties occurred.
Weary from the battles, the men sat around on deck that night recounting the day’s occurrences when an ensign looked to the Captain and asked, “Sir, why did you call for your red shirt before the battle?”
The Captain, giving the ensign a look that only a captain can give, exhorted, “If I am wounded in battle, the red shirt does not show the wound and thus, you men will continue to fight unafraid.”
The men sat in silence marvelling at the courage of such a man. As dawn came the next morning, the lookout screamed that there were pirate ships, 10 of them, all with boarding parties on their way.
The men became silent and looked to the Captain, their leader, for his usual command. The Captain, calm as ever, bellowed, “Bring me my brown pants!”
Hope you have enjoyed this… I am at sea on my way back from England at the moment and just hope we don’t meet any pirates…. thanks Sally