TALK-LIKE-A-PIRATE DAY

“Did you go to a museum while you were on holiday, Matt? I know you like that kind of thing.”

I smiled.

“Yeah! We went to the National Waterfront Museum. It was really good! I learned about steam ships, and they had some old locomotives, and cars, well ‘horseless carriages’ really, and I sat in a Sinclair C5, and oh yes, I also picked up a load of new knowledge about pirates!”

“Pirates eh? Nice bit of family history research for you there.”

Unbelievable. I sometimes wish I’d not told my colleagues about the piracy in my family. I mean they were technically criminals, no matter how romanticised we’ve made it. And my ancestors (Welsh pirates all) might have been no exception.

Still, there are some bits of Black Bart’s Pirate Code that I really like! Black Bart was a notorious captain who set out rules for being a pirate.

For example, lights and candles had to be put out at eight o’clock (unless you were drinking on deck!) - a sensible idea, a curfew!

No gambling was allowed, though I’m not sure what the punishment was for breaking out a deck of cards. Presumably marooning, as it was for most other things.

You had to keep your ‘piece, pistols and cutlass clean and fit for service’ but if you had a quarrel with another shipmate, you couldn’t lay a finger on him at sea. You had to wait until you were both on shore! I like to think of this as the equivalent to ‘not letting the sun go down while you’re still angry’... you would at least have the chance to calm down Burly Bill before he had at you with his freshly sharpened cutlass on the next desert island.

My favourite bit of the code though is that the musicians got a day off. Every sabbath. Sure, the other days they had to swash and buckle with the best of ‘em, but at least once a week, the box players and pipers could put their boots up.

“I like the sound of that!” I said. Swinging lanterns and sea shanties on a Saturday, then a good old day of rest on a Sunday.

“It’s Wednesday,” said someone, reminding me that I’m currently a technical author in an office and not a melodion player on the Crusty Barnacle. “Those doubloons don’t earn themselves!”

I went back to my day job.