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  • Day 28

    Pirates Part II

    February 24, 2016 in New Zealand ⋅ ☀️ 18 °C

    Soaked still and in need of a shower I drove back to Scott's Place. There aren't many better feelings than getting out of filthy and wet clothes, through a hot shower and into some which are dry. This is doubly true if you have taken a spontaneous nap in a parking lot, take it from me.

    Dry and rested it obviously made sense to crack some cold beers whick also became my dinner. As evening gave way to night Adam and I tried to learn Bob Marley's "Redemption Song". Now, under normal circumstances plucking out a few note riff on the guitar can be challenging, but completely doable. Much to the chagrin and what later turned into amusement of those around us we had a couple things working against us. First, Adam has less guitar experience than I at playing guitar so this very much became an exercise in the blind leading the blind. Secondly, we had nearly polished off a bottle of whiskey. The combination proved to be too much and despite the helpful intervention of others around us and over two hours of attempts, we finally headed to bed. I'm pretty sure I heard the faint echo of laughter following me down the hall as we slipped away.

    The next morning my head somehow only hurt slightly, my pride was still intact and the Redemption Song riff was rattling around in my brain like a guitar pick stuck in a guitar that just won't come out. After breakfast a few of us went to the beach. It sure was handy to have a pickup because everyone's surfboard fit in the bed. The day was sunny and warm and while a couple guys surfed I practiced a different song on guitar. Partly to learn something new and partly to exorcise Bob Marley from my mind. Sitting there on the beach was supremely relaxing and made me wish we had closer beaches to Austin. Perhaps with some research I can find something similar in the land locked city I call home. It would sure be nice.

    Following a couple hours at the beach we grabbed lunch in Raglan and most importantly bought a bunch more beer and another bottle of whiskey for the impending pirate party.

    Returning to Scott's Place by late afternoon the festivities had already begun. This made me happier than a rat in a crate of saltfish because the first rule of a good pirate parrrrrty is T' starrt before the sun dips below ye horizon. The second rule of a good pirate parrrrty is t' dress the parrrt. I mean after all if ye be showin' up a lookin' like a smarmy land lubber, the plank ye should walk. It took less time for me to get into costume than it takes to pop the cork from a bottle of rum.

    Every one of the forest pirates was in a glorious mood and the conversation was lighter 'n seafoam and funnier 'n a captain with two good legs. A couple of flagons of grog in ol' smarmy Barney hoisted the Jolly Roger and declared himself captain of the lot. Little did he know, mutiny was in the air. With Barney distracted by a lass I was able to secure the flag. The lass took not kindly to the capture of the flag after a struggle power was temporarily back in Barneys hands. This happened a couple more times until after I retrieved the flag one last time I gave it to who would soon, and temporarily, become Captain Adam.

    Under Captain Adam we had new orders. The lot of us was to participate in the dreaded waterfall. For those uninitiated out there this means the captain hosts his drink high and the rest of us scoundrels do the same. The captain begins drinking and every pirate follows suit. We drink until he has had his fill at which time the mate to his right can keep drinking as long as he likes, forcing the rest of us to keep downing our grog. When he stops the person to his right can keep going, again with the rest of us not stopping. This continues pirate by filthy pirate until it reaches the last person. Unfortunately for me, I was that last pirate. It was rough, but a might bit better than walking the plank.

    It wasn't long before another ship full of buccaneers arrived at our port led by the Dread Pirate Alex. He and his motley crew fit right in and helped us in our quest to drink absolutely everything in sight.

    With all of us scoundrels wet with rum, smarmy Scott wove us a tale of sea creatures so fierce they would leap from the water to take a bite of human flesh. With many a sailor's leg a tremblin' and teeth a chatterin' we sallied forth to the lair of these beasts. Unafraid of the dangers, Scott tempted the creatures with chicken. Now I have been told that a man's flesh tastes almost exactly like chicken so I kept me distance and watched. Moments later the creatures lurched from the depths all the way from the water onto the land. In a frenzy they writhed, wriggled, and squirmed all over one another and with great ferocity tore the chicken to pieces.

    A couple brave, or foolish mates even tried to hoist a creature from their lair, but those who did ended up with wounds so grave we nearly ran out of hooks to replace their mangled hands with. No doubt they will respect the creatures more should they encounter them a second time.

    Returning to port the drinking continues, more music was played and many tales of adventure and triumph were spun. I kept up until the land beneath my feet began to feel like I was out at sea again. Knowing that it was time to trade my scimitar for a pillow I crawled into the back of my truck and drifted to sleep freaking of treasure chests and smiling lasses.
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