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Our fine vessel, the Captain Jack. And never was there
a more feared boat in all the vacation spots on the seas.

We had sailed our fine boat, the Captain Jack, for many days from
the north in Alaska and down under Mexico and up through the canal.
Now we was at our destination, the sea-lanes of the Caribbean. All the
crew was anxious and wantin' to meet up with our first passing cruise
ship. "Have patience, maties. I primise ya' well be getting down to our
dark work fast enough."

And it was true. It was just after dusk it was, when we saw her. A fine
cruise ship carryin' the Norwegian flag on her stern. She was big, and
we nearly went to droolin' at the thought of all the crab she'd be
carryin'.

We comforted our good boat up against her port bow without being spotted,
and lashed lines to her. Then we threw up the hooks and climbed up to her
deck faster than a pack of Madagascar lemurs. Once a'top, we headed directly
fer the galley.

We took 'em by surprise. "Who the hell are you?" one of the cooks said.

"We're the crew of the Captain Jack. And we'll be takin' those crabs in
the freezer off yer hands, if ya' don't mind."

The cook looked me pistols over, the old flintlocks.

"Do those things actually work?" he said. Aye, he was a sassy rat.

"Well ya don't want to be findin' out, now do ya'?" I snapped at him.

"And what's with that eye patch?" he said. "That can't be real."

"Ya got somethin' against the disabled, does ya?" I says to him, puttin'
one of me pistols into his gut. And aye, that put his mouth to sleep
real quick.

Me crew hit the freezer, and started puttin' all them chilled crabs into
their sacks. It was then I noticed another of the cooks. He seemed to be
hidin' somethin' behind his back.

"Whatcha got there!" I said, movin' towards him.

"Nothing!" he said.

"Blast, ya landubbing rat! Give it to me!"

He pulled out a bottle, a bottle of the old Captain Morgan Spiced Rum.

"I'll be takin' that too, surely" I said, grabbin' it out from his mangy
paws.

The crew havin' all the crabs there was to be had, we sped back to the bow
and slid down the ropes to the Captain Jack. Then we slithered off into
the night, and broke open the bottle of the good Captain Morgan to celebrate.
And it was fine grog, it was too.

We hit eleven other cruise ships that month, all the times avoidin' the
dreaded mans'o'war that soon took after us. We reversed course and changed
the look of our boat to pass through the canal again in disguise. A week
later we was in Seattle, sellin' our pilfered crab at Pike's Market.

And we made out like royal gents, it's true.


There's just nothin' like the lucre of them tasty crab.