Pirates in Paradise 2009 - Key West, Fl
Chapter 2nd, 12/4, Day -Containing all the breathless details
of lunch, dinnerand buying socks. It's fascinating stuff,
to be sure. Also including various stories about some wonderful PiP
family veterans as well as several about new PiP family members. (The PiP
family expands every year - a good thing.)
Photo: Bagleys
Photo: Mission
Lunch was followed by a leisurely stroll through the Truman Annex to the fort. I had missed the Friday battle.
Since it was my plan to miss it, this was all well and good.
Arriving at the gate, I got charged a gate fee because the lady there claimed she didn't have a list of participants. (I don't mind giving money to the fort, but that wasn't part of the deal.) So I found Fayma Callahan, who gave me a wooden pog allowing free access and egress. She also gave me a loaner mug which she made me promise not to let Stynky see. In fact, Stynky was there, so I wished him Happy Birthday and he pretended to be delighted to see me, probably because he figured my wallet was full of $20s.
Left: Since there is no actual picture of what I described, here's a gratuitous photo of Fayma with Lob the monkey. We love Fayma. (Lob & I, that is.) Right: the magical mystery pog - now with stains and teeth marks!
Photo: Mission
My first mission (heh) was to find some socks because I had apparently
decided my socks would be safest with my hotel information back in Michigan.
You can never be too cautious. However, since I
couldn't get dressed without socks -unless I wanted to look (more) like a
dork - this was a situation that demanded remedying, tout suite. (Fortunately I
did have my cool Indiana Jones brown leather document
pouch to stuff all my period clothing into for the trip to the Rum Barrel
and through the Annex. Curiously, I was at a circa 17th century
event, starting in 1940s mode. I guess you just gotta' ease into these things.)
Anyhow, I bought some socks from Greg of the
Weeping Heart Trading Company.
This is sort of sounding like you're reading my "to do" list, isn't it? Sorry about that.
Left: Greg of the Weeping Heart Trading Company. You can't quite read the sign he has there, but it says, "The merchant is on Auto Seller. Please leave your money."
Photo: Bagleys
At the Mercury camp, I found Michael dressing Red Jessi. (I think he was doing this mostly because it's difficult to lace up those bodices or mantuas or whatever the heck you call
thems. That and she is his second-wife.) Thinking three o'clock was pretty late to be getting dressed, I made what was no doubt some amazingly acerbic comment on this and was informed that it was because the female cannon crew members decided to
disguise themselves as men to fire the cannon. Me, I'd probably skip the firing if I had to go to that
much trouble.
I must say I was disappointed by this because the All Girl Cannon Crew was one of the most awesomest cool things about the battles last year. The "All Girls Dressed Like Boys Cannon Crew" just doesn't have quite the same ring. However, the girls had decided as a group that it would be better and safer to wear pants for the firing. So the whole thing was quite democratic. On the plus side, they also decided to do a photo shoot in their dresses with the cannon. Rats served as photographer and I understand that he views his role as taking as many pictures as possible in a short time frame. I was told he took at least 300 photos of them, Austin Powers style.
Photo: Rats Going Crazy with Jess Bagley's Camera)
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Photo: Rats Going Crazy with Jess Bagley's Camera)
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The All Girls Cannon Crew Glamour Shots, courtesy of Rats. Above left, the crew from front to back: Rusty Nell, Red Jessi, Kate Bagley and Madam Grace. Above right, crew captain Madam Grace - Cannon Ahoy! Below left, Red Jessi gives us a leggy pose. Below right, Jessi and Kate preparing the cannon in drawers during the actual Friday battle. (Did cannoneers really wear socks like that?)
Photo: Kate Bagley
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Photo: Kate Bagley
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Photo: Kate Bagley
Photo: Kate Bagley
Oh, and before I get back on track, I did want to note
that I had been told there is going to be a new ride next year at PiP
called Sit & Speak. It involves sitting on a cannon and having someone
speak down the barrel. The charge for this ride will depend on how long
and loud the person speaking has to continue. (More than this I cannot
say. There were about a dozen stories I heard this weekend that I cannot
tell without offending half the readers out there. Sorry! 
)
Photo: Mary Diamond (sort of)
Photo: Jessica Bagley
Upon emerging in garb, I was greeted by none other than our Quartermaster William Brand. Yes, it turns out that William arranged to hitch a ride on a black ops helicopter to Key West thanks to his previous involvement with several clandestine operations in the Philippines. Just like Kim Possible.
(The hitching a ride part, not the William part. I don't think William is
much like Kim Possible. Well, other than they both have red hair.) We spent some time catching up and
I must say that it was grand to see him here in his new coat.
Left: William & Kim on the fort beach (to allow for better comparison).
Right: William in his new coat.
Photo: Mission
Michael asked me if I could put Becky, my
piratess, into her gibbet. Since he had thoughtfully traveled over 1300
miles with this corpse in his car, I figured it was the least I could do. (No
one should ever say that I didn't make it a point to do the least I
could possibly do.) So I put Becky's gibbet together, which elicited all sorts of
inappropriate comments that people who were not stuck putting Becky's gibbet
together found amusing. Once assembled, I wanted to see her and the
gibbet hung in the fort next to Bucky, her partner for life. Er, partner for
death. Red Jessi agreed to help me haul Becky and gibbet over to the
fort. This was to be one of several dozen such trips - although it was the only I made while hauling a body. (Well, the only one I'll mention
publicly.)
We stopped to visit the skeleton sculpture on the path along the way, where the site of Becky the hot corpse, caused one of the skeletons to lose his head. (Rim shot.) Arriving at the fort, it turned out that no one actually knew where Bucky even was, but they promised to hang Becky and possibly Bucky up at the first convenient opportunity. (This was code for, "next year.") So she remained laying on the ground next to Bawdy Bee's Place for the duration of the event.
Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission
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Above left - "Live, damn you, live!" Above center - "Bring out your dead!" Hauling Becky's carcass down to the fort with Red Jessi. (She kept having to stop to let me rest.) Above right - Becky visits the neighbors, who can't be bothered to look up from their gardening. Below left, after arriving at the fort, Captain Spike attempted to, um, raise the dead. Ahem. Below right, Becky's final resting place this year.
Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission)
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Photo: Mission
I was delighted to learn that Boogater was here. Some of you will remember Boo from the
2007 Surgeon's
Journal. Boo and I chatted for awhile. It seems he is building a Model A car from parts he discovered on a piece of land he owns in Florida.
Once finished, he plans to send it out west and tour in it. Boo is a McGuyver kind of guy, you see. He also explained that he recently finished building a house boat which he and his friend "the Captain" are going to sail around southern Florida on a fishing expedition. He can do this because he retired in 1987 (or something) despite the fact that he is only 30. (OK, he's a little older than that.)
We agreed to miss the Saturday battle for a trip to B.O.s Fish Wagon to enjoy conch fritters while admiring the ambiance of "restaurant assembled from remnants of the last hurricane."
Photo: Mission
Mooseworth's wife Elizabeth aka. Kelly appeared and took pics of Boo, Mooseworth and me in front of Boo's cool bamboo tent set up. If I am remembering what she told me correctly, she and
Mr. Mooseworth (probably not the name he gave her or they'd have never married) met in Key West and hit it off so well that he decided to quit his job as a the president of General Motors and move down here to pack hand-rolled Cuban cigars. Or maybe I'm confusing some of the stories I've heard. I'd had a lot of wine when I was writing that part. Anyhow, he moved down to Florida to be with her which strikes me as pretty romantic and stuff. Nice folks, well met. The three of them were planning an excursion to the pub crawl this evening. They weren't sure when it was starting, but, as I told
Elizabeth, when it comes to Duvall pirate pub crawls, you just pick a bar on Duvall and then sit there and drink until you see a bunch of pirates coming into the bar. Follow them and you're in a pub crawl.
I espied Papa Ratzi shooting dusk pics at the water's edge, so I decided to go down and shoot some as well, just so everyone could compare my work to Papa's and see just how inadequate my photography skills are. There I met (and wound up having to hug) a dozen people, several of whom I don't think I actually knew. This was a weird experience for your typically "no touch" ship's surgeon. I have run into several people who weren't here last year, including Master Sully (below center), who told me outrageous lies about Patrick Hand being extraordinarily drunk the night before. I guess it rained, which jumbled Patrick's compass.
Below, some non-Papa Sunset photos. From left: madPete of the Mercury crew scans the horizon. Center: Master Sully of the Pirates of the Coast. Right: Sansanee.
Photo: Jessica Bagley
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Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission
Photo: Mission)
Actually, I heard several stories about Patrick's doings on Thursday night. One person, who shall remain nameless because I don't remember who it was, told me that at one point Mr. Hand was wandering around the camp at 1am looking for his pants, proclaiming loudly that they contained everything he owned. Shay
of the Keys told me that Patrick's hammock fell down or he fell out of it after it started raining. This caused Patrick to start swearing loudly. After a bit of this, he
fell asleep in the puddle for about five minutes, then woke up again and started swearing like a sailor. (Which only makes sense.) Then asleep in the puddle. Then awake and swearing. Rinse and repeat for best effect. Patrick told me only his back got wet and that he was mad because his back hurt.
Photo: Mission
Red Jessi and I agreed to have dinner at the splendid, magnificent and wonderful
Cafe Solé in town. We invited Michael and Kate Souris along and (thanks to my keen directional skills) got lost looking for it. Fortunately, I had a vague idea where it was ("Is that the cemetery AGAIN?") and we eventually stumbled across it. It's hard to find. Seriously. Honest and for true. Once
safely inside and seated, I began to regale them with the best Cafe Sole experience I had had to date (including
last year's dinner with
Jessi) and nearly all of the things I mentioned occurred that night. I am seriously psychic (or maybe just psychotic) this trip.
Sensing this, I then predicted that we would find a Spanish Treasure ship. (You heard it here first.)
So what, exactly did I talk about that came true? Well, I mentioned that it was my favorite restaurant in the whole world and they had the best food anywhere. Kate and Michael (below left), who had never been to CS, agreed that it was indeed some of the best food they had had. (Jessie already knew.) I also explained that in some of my previous experiences, the owner had come around and chatted with me because I went there so often when I was in town. The owner did indeed appear. In fact, he spent quite a bit of time chatting with us. (Below right.) I also had told them that during a few special trips, he actually invited me to share in some yummy port wine, which isn't on the menu. After chatting with our foursome, he asked if we would like some port. Psychic, I'm telling ya. (Spanish treasure ship. Ommmmmm...)
Photo: Mission
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Photo: Mission
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