Or, in another vernacular, we are guys, John Baur and Mark Summers. And that really should be all you need to know about the origins of Talk Like a Pirate Day. We're guys. Not men, with responsibility and suits and power ties. We're guys, with all that that implies. But here are the details.

Once upon a time -- on June 6, 1995, to be precise -- we were playing racquetball, not well but gamely. It wasn't our intention to become "the pirate guys." Truth to tell, it wasn't really our intention to become anything, except perhaps a tad thinner and healthier, and if you could see our photos, you'd know how THAT turned out. As we flailed away, we called out friendly encouragement to each other -"Damn, you bastard!" and "Oh, jeez, my hamstring!" for instance - as shots caromed away, unimpeded by our wildly swung rackets.

On this day, for reasons we still don't quite understand, we started giving our encouragement in pirate slang. Mark suspects one of us might have been reaching for a low shot that, by pure chance, might have come off the wall at an unusually high rate of speed, and strained something best left unstrained. "Arrr!," he might have said.

Who knows? It might have happened exactly that way.

Anyway, whoever let out the first "Arrr!" started something. One thing led to another. "That be a fine cannonade," one said, to be followed by "Now watch as I fire a broadside straight into your yardarm!" and other such helpful phrases.

By the time our hour on the court was over, we realized that lapsing into pirate lingo had made the game more fun and the time pass more quickly. We decided then and there that what the world really needed was a new national holiday, Talk Like A Pirate Day.

First, we needed a date for the holiday. As any guy can tell you, June 6 is the anniversary of World War II's D-Day. Guys hold dates like that in reverence and awe so there was no way we could use June 6.

Mark came up with September 19. That was and is his ex-wife's birthday, and the only date he could readily recall that wasn't taken up with something like Christmas or the Super Bowl or something. We also decided -- right then and there on the court on June 6, 1995 -- that the perfect spokesman for our new holiday was none other than Dave Barry himself, nationally syndicated humor columnist and winner of the Pulitzer by-God Prize. So, naturally, we forgot all about it.

For seven years we celebrated International Talk Like a Pirate Day pretty much on our own, with our friend Brian Rhodes actually reminding us that the event was coming up. Frankly, we usually forgot exactly when Talk Like a Pirate Day was supposed to be or even that there was such a thing. Brian is one of those guys who programs every important event into his computer so that a reminder pops up the day before. John and Mark may be the founders of Talk Like a Pirate Day, but Brian is certainly the midwife, or godfather or something. (Have a cigar, Brian!)

Things would probably have continued indefinitely on that low-key note until John, Mark and Brian were little old pirates in the Home for Retired Sea Dogs. We had a national holiday that almost nobody knew about, and we were content with that.

Except for one happy accident. One day in early 2002, John chanced upon Dave Barry's e-mail address. As the entire universe knows, Dave Barry is a syndicated columnist and the author of somewhere between four and 6,000 books and the second funniest man in the universe. We were two guys (three if you count Brian, and that seems only fair,) but Dave (we call him Dave now, though he probably doesn't know it. Mr. Barry would probably be more appropriate, but, well, you know.) anyway, Dave is like a whole parade with brass bands and elephants. We reasoned that Dave would be able to bring attention to Talk Like A Pirate Day in a way that Mark and John (and Brian) wouldn't be able to if we lived to be 200. Ambition suddenly burned bright, and sending e-mails is a very easy thing to do. Which is why we finally got around to contacting him.

The first e-mail introduced us, and told him about our great idea -- Talk Like a Pirate Day. We knew he wouldn't be able to resist. Then we offered him the only thing we had, the chance to be official national spokesman for the event.

We clicked the send button, casting our bread upon the water, if we may wax Biblical.

Surprisingly, we had an answer in a matter of days. We had assumed a famous guy like Dave Barry would have more important things to do than read the e-mail of a couple of louts with a hare-brained idea. It turns out, louts like us are where he gets a lot of his column material.

It's a great idea, he said, (actually "very excellent" were his exact words, in case you're keeping score.) But then he asked the fatal question.

"Have you guys actually DONE anything about this? Or are you counting on me to carry the ball here?"

Very perceptive of him. The way we answered would be crucial in bringing Barry aboard. We decided on the truth, with a lot of ass kissing thrown in.

"Well, we've talked like pirates every Sept. 19, and we've encouraged our several friends to," John wrote in reply. And Mark put it in perspective when he wrote, "We are dinghy-sized-talk-like-a-pirate kinda guys, but you, Dave ... you are like a frigate-huge-sized-talk-like-a-pirate kinda guy."

In early September, John got a phone call from the feature editor at the local paper, someone he had worked with for several years before leaving the newspaper business (But that's a different story.) She sounded confused.

"John, I was editing this week's Dave Barry column and it's about ... Is this you?"

It was. The nationally syndicated columnist and Pulitzer Prize winning writer of "distinguished commentary" (the Pulitzer committee's description, not his own) became convinced of the great potential of such a holiday. Or maybe he had run out of fresh column ideas and didn't want to do another one on toilet training his infant daughter. Either way, he had written the column.

And hell broke loose.

Next: The aftermath

 Cap'n Slappy an' Ol' Chumbucket are off to LA for TLAPD, while the wenches, Mad Sally and Jezebel, will be carryin' on the tradition (and just carryin' on) at home.

(teampirate2006.jpg)

teampirate2006.jpg (13KB - 1019 downloads)

Seamen in the days of sail spoke a language far apart from the norm. It was so full of technical jargon as to be nearly incomprehensible to a landsman. For example, few could follow these instructions:

Lift the skin up, and put into the bunt the slack of the clews (not too taut), the leech and foot-rope, and body of the sail; being careful not to let it get forward under or hang down abaft. Then haul your bunt well up on the yard, smoothing the skin and bringing it down well abaft, and make fast the bunt gasket round the mast, and the jigger, if there be one, to the tie.

—Richard Henry Dana, Jr., The Seaman's Manual (1844)

Even more baffling are some of the phrases used by sailors in the 17th century:

If the ship go before the wind, or as they term it, betwixt two sheets, then he who conds uses these terms to him at the helm: Starboard, larboard, the helm amidships... If the ship go by a wind, or a quarter winds, they say aloof, or keep your loof, or fall not off, wear no more, keep her to, touch the wind, have a care of the lee-latch. all these do imply the same in a manner, are to bid him at the helm to keep her near the wind.

here be yea the X to mark the map (website) http://talklikeapirate.com/piratehome.html

Top Ten Pickup lines for use on International Talk Like a Pirate Day

(We came up with these in an effort to interest The Other Dave (Letterman) in TLAPD. His staff liked 'em, but alas, his show was"dark" the week of Sept. 19.)

10 . Avast, me proud beauty! Wanna know why my Roger is so Jolly?

9. Have ya ever met a man with a real yardarm?

8. Come on up and see me urchins.

7. Yes, that is a hornpipe in my pocket and I am happy to see you.

6. I'd love to drop anchor in your lagoon.

5. Pardon me, but would ya mind if fired me cannon through your porthole?

4. How'd you like to scrape the barnacles off of me rudder?

3. Ya know, darlin’, I’m 97 percent chum free.

2. Well blow me down?

And the number one pickup line for use on International Talk Like a Pirate Day is …

1. Prepare to be boarded.

Bonus pickup lines (when the ones above don't work, as they often won't)

They don’t call me Long John because my head is so big.

You’re drinking a Salty Dog? How’d you like to try the real thing?

Wanna shiver me timbers?

I’ve sailed the seven seas, and you’re the sleekest schooner I’ve ever sighted.

Brwaack! Polly want a cracker? … Oh, wait. That’s for Talk Like a PARROT Day.

That’s the finest pirate booty I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Let's get together and haul some keel.

That’s some treasure chest you’ve got there.

http://talklikeapirate.com/ppi.html   Yarrrrrr Damn if we can remember to to link to the test

We ended up being the bilge rat type Pirate here

The Jolly Roger, Old Roger, or just plain Skull and Crossbones is the definitive symbol of the pyrate. Although no one knows for certain, it is believed that the name derives from joli rouge, which means "Pretty Red" in French. This was taken to describe the blood red flags flown by particularly harsh pyrates. No matter where the name came from, the essential use of this banner was to strike fear into the hearts of the crew under pyrate attack. While pyrates often flew "false colours" of any given country, inevitably they used "truer" colours to communicate and threaten potential victims.
Around 1700 the first such flag was flown by Emmanuel Wynne as he plundered the Caribbean. In general, a white flag was flown when pyrates were in chase of a potential victim. In some cases the victim would "strike his colours", or take down the king's flag and submit to the bandits. If the victims refused, the black and white flag was raised to indicate the intentions of the pyrates. In the event that a ship was particularly evasive, or a pyrate was particularly brutal, the red flag was raised to indicate that no quarter would be given once the ship was captured. In short no lives would be spared. The flags contained symbols designed to indicate a certain message. Of course, the skull was a sign of death in general, but a skeleton, often with horns, was to indicate a tormented death. On the otherhand, a dart or spear was used to indicate a violent death in contrast to the bleeding heart denoting a slow and painful death. A raised fist or hand clutching a dagger or cutlass was to indicate a general willingness to kill and the hourglass gave a threat that time was running out or that capture was inevitable. Curiously, Blackbeard managed to incorporate practically every one of these main symbols into his flag. Jack Rackham (Calico Jack) used a graceful set of crossed swords in place of bones to boast ironically of his willingness to fight. Similarly, Thomas Tew took the image of the sword before that of death. In his flag, no symbol of death is present, but the message is no less clear regarding the fate of any who opposed his advance. Sir Thomas Tew seemed to think it more polite to suggest violence without that nasty death image. These images were, of course, interpretive, but well known in the golden age of pyracy. A flag could be a simple variation like Henry Every's (page top) skull at a profile, or it could be all inclusive like Stede Bonnet's rather bland jumble of images. As was the case often, a flag could be altered or customized to fit a particular need. In the case of Bartholomew Roberts (Black Bart) his "principle" colours showed him toasting death with an ambiguous glass of drink or an hourglass (pun intended for sure!). After a long hard time of pyratin' Black Bart came to hate the islands of Barbados and Martinique. To show his vendetta he crafted another flag showing him astride two skulls and the letters "ABH" and "AMH". The letters were to indicate "A Barbadian's Head" and "A Martinician's Head". While it is unclear if Bart ever got his Barbadian, in 1720 he hung the governor of Martinique from his yardarm.

Pyrate - A robber at sea. Any act of theft while on the oceans is pyracy in the most general sense.

Privateer - a privateer is a sailor with a "letter of marque" (see below) from a governement. This letter "allows" the sailor to plunder any ship of a given enemy nation. Technically a privateer was a self employed soldier paid only by what he plundered from an enemy. In this, a privateer was supposed to be above being tried for pyracy. Tell that to Cap'n Kidd. Most often, privateers were a higher class of criminal, though many turned plain pyrate before all was said and done.

Buccaneer - originally a term for those privateers who fought against the Spanish, later a general term for pyrates of the atlantic, specifically the Caribbean. The buccaneers were first hunters of pigs and cattle on the island of Hispanola, but were driven off by the Spanish and turned to pyracy. Buccaneers were said to be heavy drinking, cruel pyrates.

Corsair - This term was used for Christian and Muslim privateers in the Mediterranean between the 16th and 19th centuries. The Barbary corsairs centered on North African states and were often "hired" by Muslim nations to attack Christian ships. The Christian Corsairs were known as the Maltese corsairs and they took their orders from the Knights of St. John to attack the Turks.

To Go on Account - a pleasant term used by pyrates to describe the act of turning pyrate. The basic idea was that a pyrate was more "free lance" and thus was, more or less, going into business for himself.

"Avast Ye!" - a hailing phrase to indicate that the hailed must "stop" and give attention.

Landlubber - a term given to one fond of land as opposed to sea. The terms doesn't derive from "land lover" but rather from the root of "lubber" which means clumsy or uncoordinated. Thus, a landlubber is one who is awkward at sea for familiarity with the land. Of course, this terms was used to insult the abilities of one at sea.

Davy Jones's Locker - a fictional place at the bottom of the ocean. In short, a term meaning death. Davey Jones was said to sink every ship he ever over took, and thus, the watery grave that awaited all who were sunk by him was given his name. To die at sea is to go to "Davey Jones's Locker".

Walk the Plank - Perhaps more famous than historically practiced, walking the plank was the act of being forced off a ship by pyrates (as punishment or torture) into the watery grave below. History suggests that this might have happened once that can be vaguely documented, but it is etched in the image of the pyrates for its clearly dastardly content.

Swing the Lead - The Lead was a weight at the bottom of a line that gave sailors a way to measure depth when near land. To Swing the Lead was considered a simple job, and thusly came to represent one who is avoiding work or taking the easy work over the hard. In todays terms, one who swings the lead is a slacker.

Keel Haul - another term made famous by pyrates. This is the act of throwing a man overboard, tied to a rope that goes beneath the ship, and then dragging him from one side to the other and hauling him out. Besides the torment of being dragged under water, this would drag the victim across the barnacle studded ship's hull and cause great pain and injury. This was a serious punishment and not administered lightly.

Sea Legs - after walking on a ship for long periods of time, sailors became accustomed to the rocking of the ship in the water. So, early in a voyage a sailor was said to be lacking his "sea legs" when the ship motion was still foreign to him. Often, after a cruise, a sailor would have trouble regaining his "land legs" and would swagger on land.

Yellow Jack - like any "jack" or flag, the yellow jack was used to indicate a particular disposition of a ship. In this case the yellow was to signify the yellow fever. A yellow flag flying meant that there was illness aboard. Often this was used to trick pyrates away from potential targets.

Take a Caulk - on deck of a ship, between planks, was a thick caulk of black tar and rope to keep water from between decks. This term came to mean to "take a nap" either because sailors who slept on deck ended up with black lines across their backs or simply because sailors laying down on deck were as horizontal as the caulk of the deck itself.

Shiver me Timbers - This term was used to express shock or surprise. The idea of timbers shivering comes from the vibration set up in the mast (timbers) by either running aground or a solid hit from a larger gun. The suggestion is that something has shaken the speaker from a state of less awareness.

Long Clothes - Long clothes were a style of clothing best suited to land. A pyrate, or any sailor, didn't have the luxury of wearing anything loose that might get in the way while climbing up riggings. Landsmen, by contrast, could adorn themselves with baggy pants, coats, and stockings.

Black Spot - Tipping the black spot was a way pyrates gave a death threat. As in the Novel, Treasure Island, a paper was marked with a black smudge on one side and often a message on the other to make the threat specific.

Bilge - The lowest part inside the ship, within the hull itself. If any place on the ship was going to be dank and musty, the bilge was such a place. It was the first place to show signs of leakage and was often considered the most filthy, deadspace of a ship. Hence, a "bilge rat" is a creature considered most lowly by a pyrate. Though, many a pyrate found himself eating those same rats to survive!

Bowsprit - the furthest front of the ship is the bowsprit. It is usually used as a lead connection for a smaller navigational sail. It was from the bowsprit that Blackbeard's head was hung as a trophy.

Broadside - a general term for the vantage on another ship of absolute perpendicular to the direction it is going. To get along broadside a ship was to take it at a very vulnerable angle. This is of course, the largest dimention of a ship and is easyiest to attack with larger arms. A "Broadside" has come to indicate a hit with a cannon or similar attack right in the main part of the ship.

Careen - to careen a ship is to take it into shallower waters or out of the water altogether and to remove barnacles and pests from the bottom. Pests include mollusks (worms), shells, and plant growth. Often a pyrate needed to careen his ship to restore it to proper speed. Also, careening was dangerous to pyrates as it left the ship inoperable while the work was being done.

Come About - to bring the ship full way around in the wind. Used in general while sailing into the wind, but also used to indicate a swing back into the enemy in combat.

Fo'c's'le - This is a term used for the Forcastle or frontmost part of the ship. Usually under the front deck and above the lower deck.

Gunwalls - the "sides" of the top deck. These "walls" were the only thing keeping things on deck from sliding into the water. Of course, these railings and walls had openings for the heavy arms or guns.

Jury Mast - a temporary or make-shift mast erected on a sea vessel after the mainmast has been destroyed. Often, in combat, the mast was the most damaged (providing the ship didn't sink). Without the mast, a ship was powerless, so a term grew out of the need to make masts to power damaged ships.

Jolly Boat - a light boat carried at the stern of a larger sailing ship. This (probably) Danish Yawl (jol), proved better at high sea when a larger ship could harldy carry any sail.

Long Boat - the largest boat carried by another ship. This was used to move larger loads, often anchors, chains, or ropes. In the case of pyrates, the longboats were used to transport the bulk of heavier treasures.

Quarter - deriving from the idea of "shelter", quarter was given when mercy was offered by the pyrates. To give no quarter was to indicate that none would be spared. Quarter was often the prize given to an honourable loser in a pyrate fight. If enraged, however, a pyrate would deprive the loser any such luxury.

Yardarm - the main arm across the mast which holds up the sail. The yardarm was another vulnerable target in combat, and it was also a favourite place from which to hang prisoners or enemies. Black Bart hung his governor of Martinique from his yardarm.

Mizzen - a term meaning "middle" on a ship. The Mizzenmast was usually the largest and, perhaps, most important mast.

Poop Deck - the deck at the furthest back of a ship. Usually above the captain's quarters, the poopdeck was usually the highest deck of the ship.

Letter of Marque - a document given to a sailor (privateer) giving him amnesty from pyracy laws as long as the ships plundered were of an enemy nation. A large portion of the pyrates began as privateers, with this symbol of legitimacy. Still, the earnings of a privateer were significantly better than any given a soldier at sea in any Navy.

The pirate replies:
"We was caught in a monster storm off the cape and
a giant wave swept me overboard. Just as they were
pullin' me out a school of sharks appeared and one
of 'em bit me leg off".

"Blimey!" said the seaman. "What about the hook"?
"Ahhhh...", mused the pirate, "We were boardin' a
trader ship, pistols blastin' and swords swingin'
this way and that. In the fracas me hand got chopped
off."

"Zounds!", remarked the seaman. "And how came ye by
the eye patch?"
"A seagull droppin' fell into me eye", answered the
pirate.
"You lost your eye to a seagull dropping?", the sailor
asked incredulously.
"Well..." said the pirate, "..it was me first day with
the hook.."

last post of the day

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/sounds/JR-MB07-morning_glory.mp3

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/sounds/JR-LC07-port_in_every_girl.mp3

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/x-sounds/capt-thompson.mp3

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/x-sounds/south-round-horn.mp3

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/x-sounds/lift-your-glasses.mp3

it does appear to be looks like actually 3 or 4 cds by a group called the jolly rogers

http://www.chivalry.com/jollyrogers/    this is their site but if you go to the Cantaria link there are lots of others

http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/sounds/cuckoo-x.mp3

http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/sounds/itches-x.mp3