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Dispatches
from the Armed Privateer MEKA II
By
Bartholomew "Black Bart" Roberts
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Ahoy!
Me name be Bartholomew Roberts. Me division aboard the
Armed Privateer MEKA II be purser/clerk and scribe fer
th' captain. I be a parrorate. Now that be a parrot-pyrate
t' those less informed. Me friends call me Black Bart
fer short or even shorter, just Bart. I stand about 15
inches stall an' weigh equally to four gunpowder charges
o' th' bow gun. Which be equatin' t' about 1 pound. I
be green hence the Black Bart, Har! Har! So be it. Enough
o' this cockney bilge. I be far more educated and believe
me I have had the time.
I will be bringing information and anecdotes revolving
around the great Pepsi Americas' Sail 2006 as seen through
my beady little eyes. But first how did I come to gain
such an esteemed position aboard the MEKA II.
I was aboard the Royal Fortune commanded by the great
pirate Bartholomew Roberts. We were anchored off Parrot
Island on the Guinea Coast and I was blessed with talk
and understood the King's English.
Nighttime rolled around and one of the ships had taken
off in pursuit of a sail spotted on the horizon during
the afternoon. So, the captain being at his leisure, I
offered a fine toast of good rum in anticipation of our
colleagues returning with a rich prize pushing our holds
to the max. Now you have to understand that Captain Roberts
was a teetotaler, a complete abstainer of alcoholic drink.
In fact, I have only known him to consume spirits one
other time. I was taken aback by this turn of events to
my offering to say the least but I was pleased.
The captain poured a round and I began regaling him with
tales before I joined the Royal Fortune. By morning we
were both into our cups but still able to enjoy breakfast,
the Captain's solomongundy and a fresh dish of sunflower
seeds for me.
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The
drunken lookout and crew shouted that a King's ship was
upon us. She was the Swallow, Captain Chaloner Ogle in command.
We slipped our cable in the most unseamanlike fashion the
crew being so inebriated. Our resistance was bleak with
the Captain being hit in the throat by grapeshot, one of
the shot carrying away my larboard (port today) wing. Captain
Roberts died almost instantly and the crew were easily killed
or captured. I was spared and patched up. Captain Roberts
was buried overboard in all of his finery.
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While convalescing I had the most astonishing dream. There
were all these pirates around my perch where I clung to
life in a fever. I couldn't tell exactly what they were
saying but it was in many languages and they seemed to
agree on one thing involving me. Finally one large bearded
fellow stood forward and spoke. He said that it was my
fault for enticing the great Bartholomew Roberts with
drink and the rest of the crew following suit. I tried
to speak in my defense but could not utter a word. It
was as though my tongue would no longer form the words.
I was told that a curse had fallen upon me for my betrayal
to Captain Roberts. I would no longer be able speak the
King's language and would live forever recounting this
day in shame. Along with the curse came two gifts. One
was, even though I could no longer speak, I could write.
I had plenty of quills on my starboard wing. All I needed
was ink. The other was that I now carried the power of
the Black Spot. That would do me no good because it had
to be handed out by a legitimate sea captain. The lone
pirate told me something about redemption but I was so
sick at heart and body that I didn't understand his tack.
All this was on the 10th of February 1722.
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The
years went by and I didn't die. I was invincible and sailed
with just about every known pirate through the years keeping
my own council like all parrots do. Many a parrot friend
joined Davy Jones locker but I sailed on never uttering
a word again although I learned to understand 37 parrot
dialects while plundering all those wonderful female parrots.
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A
hundred years passed and I was tiring of the parrorate life.
Another 158 years rolled by and I had traveled the world over
on every conceivable ship with every conceivable crew. No
longer did the cannons roar and there was nothing to plunder.
Pirates were out of vogue except in the movies. I had a few
small parts but most of it is fakery.
In 1981, I believe, I was on the beach, hard aground in Annapolis,
trying to swill my life away. I was sick and destitute. But
I was still invincible. Someone found me on a chill morning
and took me to a pet shop. Oh, I have seen a lot of those.
I was not eating and my prized tail-feathers were gone. I
just didn't care.
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Clinging
to my perch in fever I recalled the lone bearded pirate
saying redemption would come and your natural life as
a parrot would begin if and when you boarded a ship. The
ship had to be square rigged, seagoing, complete with
cannon. One with a captain who truly believed, studied
maritime history, reenacted when he could, and lived the
life of a modern day swashbuckler. Not a plastic pirate
on a plastic weekend boat. It had to be a lifestyle. The
ship had to be wood, with the captain living aboard full
time. None of this shore nonsense remembering wooden ships
and their crews rot in port.
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Lt.
Brown & Captain Sinbad
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Fate
bowed and in walks Captain Horatio Sinbad and Lieutenant
Brown. They were looking for a suitable parrot and went
directly
to the new beautiful birds with no brains and not knowing
a gunport from a screen door. From their conversation I
gathered they were off a sailing vessel and it didn't matter
to me, I had to put to sea again.
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I
fluffed myself as best I could and began to move around
boldly. The Lieutenant caught my bleary eye and she came
over.
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How
much, she asked. She was told I could be had for little
but he hated to take the doubloons because he thought
I would be dead in a few days. Little did he know that
I was invincible!
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A
deal was struck and aboard the MEKA II I was home at last
and began to survive. The rest is history. My heart gladdened
and the curse was lifted. I am now a mortal Bartholomew
Roberts, as a few incidents would tell. Maybe a future
anecdote, perhaps.
Over
the past 26 years that I have been aboard I have begun
to age. My life should last another 25 years, about what
the Captain's should be, if we watch each other's backs.
The two other things I bespoke are still in place. I revealed
these to the Captain while he was working on a book and
captaining a freight boat in the Bahamas and they are
that I could understand English and scribe and I still
had the power of the Black Spot to use if he so chose.
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