Talk Like A Pirate Day!

 

AARRRGHH! The day snuck up on me! Captain Buzzard Jack LaBuse, herrre, mateys!

In honor of me earlier adventures with those scurrvy dogs, Cynthia and Gus in Curse of the Bayou, I'm invitin' all ye mateys to send in yer favorite pirate phrases. I'll be a postin' on this here blog.

And, just in case you're not sure how to Talk Like a Pirate, here are some key words ye be a'wantin' ta r'memberrr.

Ahoy! - "Yo!"
Avast! - "Check it out!"
Aye! - "Yes."
Arrr! - "That's right!" (often confused with arrrgh...)
Arrrgh! - "I'm VERY miffed."

So, weigh anchor. Hoist the mizzen. It's a terrrrrific day!

If ye be wantin' ta read more about Talk Like A Pirate Day, here ye go! Wikipedia

Settin' sights on a good Pirate Read? Jamaica Rose and Capt'n Michael MacLeod might have a book fer ya! It be called (Go figure!) The Book of Pirates! Amazon

And, in case yer hankerin' ta read about me mis-adventures, ye be a'clickin on this link to Cynthia's Attic: Curse of the Bayou! 

Don't make me come after ya!

Heeeerrr's one of me treacherous scenes from Curse of the Bayou!

Capt'n Buzzard Jack

 

Gasp! I was soaked and struggling for air, but there wasn't any! Coughing…that's a good sign. At least my lungs were trying to work. Had a huge wave come over the side during the night? I nudged Cynthia with my elbow.

"Ahhhh! Where did that water come from?" she cried.

"So, you're finally awake, eh?" Buzzard Jack's voice chilled the air even more. "Nice job, Snags." The shadow of the captain fell over us, blocking out the morning sun. His helper, Snags was grinning idiotically, holding a wooden bucket. An empty wooden bucket, I might add.

I spit out the remaining drops of water I'd ingested, and glared.

"Don't blame me," Snags laughed. If yer mouth hadn't been hanging open like a newborn guppy, you wouldn't a choked."

I felt a confirming nudge in my back, but Cynthia didn't laugh. Nothing was funny.

Captain Jack didn't think so, either. He leaned down until the brim of his black hat was inches from making contact with Cynthia's forehead. "You will tell me where to find the watch. It may be now. It may be later. But, I can assure you, the longer it takes, the more uncomfortable you will become." He stood up. "So, what's it going to be? I promise to untie you and your little friend, give you a good meal, some water, and send you back to land, unharmed."

Oh, sure. That'll happen. I may only be twelve, but I wasn't born yesterday.

Neither his threats nor his "promises" had any effect on Cynthia. "I told you last night. I don't have it."

I knew when Cynthia was telling the truth and…she was telling the truth. Thinking back to finding the watch in the Conners' barn, I remembered watching Cynthia put it in her pocket. What happened to it after that was a mystery. But, we'd better find out, and soon, because the captain was now standing over me.

Mary Cunningham Books