If ya so do require, you can get me ledger sent to ya by me trained pigeon, Poastie.
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Remember: Talk Like a Pirate Day September 19

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Sea Date: Dear Thomas Wyatt praised the Lord thy God farh ordained tis day ta be his first. Farh dis be in the year of mine highest single digit add be it in twice of a kilo.

October 6, 2009

Lady luck an all her beauty be as a sister ta our dear crew. Commandeered be te beloved Kings floater and all her cold and powder too. We sail at fifteen knots south during sunset tar make be way our next port o’ call.  An miss I shall, me mates that fell ta their resting, and revenge our brothers will have on them that pushed back. But that be farh a different day, a day when me men feel strong and our ghost be drowned from our infernal rage. Farh here an now tis beaut of a ship skims de waters with a silence of te dead on our hearts.

 

Sea Date: Third of last for the dozen on a day ta speak like I, for this period of the doubled M an de final resting of me feline.

September 19, 2009

Day ta day our brotherhood has been trackn a few members of ye royal navy of England.  Be crews men of a pretty little ship, black an blue an yellow trims, wit twenty two guns and she must skim de waters nicely.  She must have not seen even one battle cause her haul is smooth like skin from a fine virgins arrhs. Our mouths be watering ta commandeer dis Kings floater, but we wait as they be loading her up with supplies. If caught we be, tis will be me last written words, but fortune be wit our brotherhood as we have seen more trying escapades.

 

Sea Date: Be a month oh clear thinking an Sapphire, on tis a day of da Devil in a year of Twenty an nine.

September 19, 2009
Arh, what times me crew have had. In the bowls of the devil himself we have been. Day and night me men of fortune have fought far lives that deserved not ta see another sun. A whale of a size your captain can begin not describe chased me vessel till swallowed up we were. Sent buy the almighty ta bring final rest tar de souls of us de retched, farh the sins we cared not ta commit. Farh dis beast was of biblical nature and we all be fearing the stories Jonahmust had told. Farh now me crew is without a ship, an every last musket was fired, an every last cannon was shot in attempts ta be freed from dis beasts gut.
 

Sea Date: June be her name and four others that follow with, all in thar twenties and all with thy figure eight.

September 19, 2009

Back Taken was I, at the beauty of all the dear lovelies we happened upon in the cells of La Coruna.  Cursed we are for the sea to lead us thar.  Three moons before, me crew spotted flowties in tar water.  All about ti flowties was rum and parts of men and the vessel to keep em dry. Around neck of one the bastards doomed to be lay dead in the blue and great waters was a rope of gold and a token of Spain.

 

Raised sail at full speed while our hope lay in dee hands of lord be hosts should thar he show good graces and guide us to treasure. Night was fallen and de port was ripe for looten.  Sniffen da buildins hungry far me loot, me men sniffed out sometin else. Found ripe poppets we did and it be our doom as well.   Fair and beautiful yes, but evil as they come.  Seduced we were be the likes of theirs movement.   Known we shoulda, that these lassies were no good.  Told us they could take us to the gold they did.  And men of our caliber not deny a lady.  So fallowed we did, in and out the streets of La Coruna. And found our selves in a pickle when we found our selves in a jail cell.  The lassies tricked us!  Pirate fools we be and in our cage of steel, and took aboard me ship and took what thar pretty hands could handle.   Damn them to hell!  

 

Getting out of our cage was as not at all hard, with the guard’s men drunk and sleepn.  And a pact we have made to kill any Gypsies we see, if we can bring our self’s to be not gentlemen.

 

Sea Date: A day of Green it be, on the day before the last of this month of May and this year of eight.

September 19, 2009

Some time it been… Me crew and their Capt’n have been wee bit tied to say the least.  The king and all his men, can’t keep me and me best ten. Ha Ha….  Garr.

A poet say’s I.  But continue I shall.   We run about the Kings fastest ship, may it be the fastest in all the sea? We tried to out run, and run and run we did, but by the

Big guns and their hot iron we could not flee.  She spit our decks and splintard tar masts and we could not longer keep chase.  We lost a good many but we only needed the strongest.  Davey Jones’s belly be full for a time with the losses we suffer.  The solder sailors I call crumn took us a board and made us captive in the haul. Jailed we

Were, slaved we were, tried by a wig and sentence to hangin was to be a fait.  Oh, but real men we be, Free men, we believe and we showed to be true.  When we caused a ruckus and set sail on a new vessel…  a faster vessel… Guessed it you had, the very ship that sunk me own.

 

Sea Date: Tis day be a day far da fools who be enjoying it, in this year of the twenty one add seven.

September 19, 2009

Me hardies and their Captain have been up to no good.  Me and some of me best men, stowed away on a merchant ship.  Took a hide we did and awaited our moment of surprise while me crew was sailing just out of site.  We had stolen the sailing plans of te vessel and we knew were they be headed.  In the middle of the night while the pathetic crew of this hideous ship slept.  We took everything we needed while they dreamt, da fools never knew of our presents.  I bet they be surprised when they woke. To life a Pirate lift his mug.

 

Sea Date: Be it da yearn Deuce an double oh eight in these Ides of March on tis Twenty Seventh Day

September 19, 2009

We be it in warmer waters in these days of now. We lost but four of our dear crews men, while the gods unleashed furry upon us for our deeds of no good. But ferr we don’t have and four add one more cutthroats we have acquired. For they already be men of the open water, and skilled catchmen too.  One of them be a fine navigator, and that may come in handy if our very own finds his fate. Their prior vessel has met it final resting grounds, along with the others that fought for lives that weren’t worth their loot. I must say, the rum was worth every shed drop of blood and It warmed me soul after days in the fridged air.  The fish wasn’t bad neither! We have taken on me needed supplies and the men seem to be warming up too.  Good days, smooth waters and a brisk breeze lay ahead.

 

Sea Date: Twenty First Day and the Month be March of this Year Twenty oh Eight

September 19, 2009

Tis blasted cold has cut me and me men to the core.  Winds howling like the ghosts of all ye lost swashbucklers, make even bones of the youth ach on these decks.  Me brawl iced over and me hands black with bite, I lead me men on ward so tae might live to tell arr tails of our journey to all the lassies in port. The devil him self walks me ship, and seeks to infect ti crew with doubt and fatigue.  If the mighty sea can be calmin its temper and me crew can catch a wink, then I be believing that we may live to make an new entry in me ledger.

 

Sea Date: 4 December, 2007 'ish

September 19, 2009
Aye, Me crew be sailing against a mighty storm this eve. Ne're a wind did blow so fierce an' angry.  Tis the Cacken come ta take me ship down ta the depths of the sea. Capn' Jade be not  afraid, ha, lauph I at the monstrous squall. Me crew can take a beatin' from any storm an' keep the ship asail. The Emerald Spear wi' cut thro' a wave so high you'd be pissin' in ye' britches te see the likes o' the mighty wall.
 

Tis be our navigation map. Where de red dot lays be where me last blog was written. Double Click to Enlarge. 

Captain


London White Shield The History of White Shield: London White Shield was born in the small town of Amderma, Russia. He was raised on waters of the Kara Sea and helped his father, a prominent fishermen in the area sell his catch to the few that lived there. White Shield has been the Captain of the Duwalla for 2 years, he has accumulated millions of dollars in gold treasure. He has special treasure that know one can steal or they will be cursed. As long as White Shield has possession of this treasure, he will be the most dreaded pirate on the sea's. In the early years White Shield was a fishermen just like his old man and he went by the name of London. But one day a pirate by the name of Blood stole the ship he was on, along with his catch and he was taken prisoner and made to work on Bloods ship. He was enslaved on Bloods ship for 7 years before finally escaping. After escaping, London traveled to Italy where he found him self working for an old man. The old man told him stories everyday about an enchanted treasure off the coast of the new found land called Roanoke Island. London listened with the utmost attention and wrote down every detail of the stories the old man told. One day about 2 years after he met the old man, he found that he had passed away. London had lost the only other person that had ever seemed to care about him. The old man was holding an old piece of linen that had a drawling of a White Shield on it. He took the linen and opened it to find a map of the island that he had spoken of all this time. He new know what he must do. He would take the linen and find a group of men that would help him on his adventure to find the enchanted treasure. One of the men, a captain of the a ship called the Duwalla, and he called him self McCormick agreed to help London find the treasure. Their journey took them 2 months. These months consisted of gathering a crew to man the Duwalla, getting the needed funds to pay the men that consisted mostly of fishermen and criminals, loading food and supplies on the ship and sailing the Atlantic in search of the mysterious booty. After this time London had finally found his treasure. It had been over three years since he had first heard of it and the powers that came with having control of it. But as soon as he touched the first piece of gold, McCormick and the men of the Duwalla took the treasure from London and were to leave him on Roanoke. But London would not have it. As the men of the Duwalla and it's captain began to walk away from London and back to their ship, London was angered. He still held the one piece of treasure that McCormick allowed him to keep. London held it in his hand looking at it, he knew all that he had worked for and his dreams from the stories that the old man once told were walking aways from him. He held the piece in his right hand squeezing it as it cut though his hardend hands. His face grew red, and his eyes focused on the one that betrayed him. London drew back his hand and with all his might he threw his only peice at McCormick. The piece spun threw the chilled air, flipping as the light from the moon reflected from its shine and finally struck the captain in the back of the head. As McCormick fell towards the ground, a new Captin of the Duwalla rose, a man that would strike fear for any man that sailed the open water. His name is and would ever be Captian White Shield of the Dreaded Duwalla.
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