This story is true. There was a Pirate. I know it’s hard to believe. There was a Pirate who had a sister named Rat and a brother named Davey. Ludicrous, I know. But the truth is always stranger.
He was Dead Ear to his shipmates. Accounts differ on how he got the name. Some say a mermaid stole his hearing when she whispered in his ear after a shipwreck off Ruby Beach. Others say it was due to single-handedly fending off marauders in Deception Pass with a swivel gun.
His deafness didn’t stop him from enjoying his tunes and shanties. Pirate was a jubilant sort. If there was a bonfire to be had, you could find him next to it dancing and humming the night away.
He loved his drink and his sweet leaf in equal measure. If there was bounty to be had, he’d share it. He left no castaway behind. Always dropping them off at a friendly port with a stomach full of porridge and a swig of rum.
I wouldn’t say he was a saintly man. Who of us arrh? Yet in his time he was both captain and chaplain to his mates. Making sure ships and souls found a dry dock.
Slipping from the Royal Navy, he gallivanted from Vancouver BC to Cabo San Lucas. He could often be seen standing on top of a barrel, head and shoulders equal in height to his mates, leaning on DC, his fraternal twin as all the world could plainly see and toast-bestie.
As he settled into port, he always had his Loving Wench Jody and his Pirate Lass Janet nearby. And his many curs including a pair of rascals named Tucker and Dale.
Dead Ear had many exploits. I can personally bear witness to a handful. He burned down his beloved Dead Parrot hideout on Key Peninsula to keep the King’s troops from capturing it. You should have heard the whoosh when the rum barrels ignited all at once. Together we once snuck into a galleon and sabotaged several cannon carriages. Imagine the Spaniards’ surprise when their cannons careened inward as they fired.
He even saved a whole land of gnomes. But that’s a longer story that requires several maps.
His latest exploit? You won’t believe me. He’s off to Tralfamadore on the tail of Billy Pilgrim. I know it’s hard to believe but it’s true. We’ll keep our hearth and hearts warm with his tales, until we can drink rum and listen to tunes with Pirate by the bonfire once again.