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.