Arrr, it be good to hear from ye! Thar be a strong wind off me port bow, mor'n likely from the saurkraut I be havin' this fine morn. Arr, saurkraut, as dear to any true seamans 'eart as any port bound doxy!
Do ye be sufferin' from the evil's o' drink? It reminds me o' th'
second voyage I took to the spice isles. We 'ad the old bitch (that were me
ships name, the Crusty Sea Bitch, named after me wife o' 13 years) for
repairs.
We'd been caught on a shallow reef off the isle o' Doom in our crossing o' the Atlantic, and 'ad to caulk up the seams with the combined faeces o' the crew. That were where me ship got it's other name, the Barge o' the Rancid Odour. Can't say I were too put off by it, as the reek o' the vessel saved us from bein' boarded by pirates on three occasions. Unfortunately, the men 'ad been complaining o' the reek, and havin' to pay double to visit with any o' the ladies o' the night in port ('cept in dublin for some reason, I believe the ladies may o' thought the smell were an improvement over their normal clientle).
Anyhow, we'd beached the ship to have her re-caulked in the isle's o' spice. The morn after we run 'er aground I went to inspect it with me first mate, Reginald Bung (o' the Northcot Bung's). We took a turn round the ship to check fer damage, and as we neared tha' stern port bow, I stopped in shock. Afore us, drawn in the trailin' edges o' the crew's gravy, were a picture o' the Maddona an' child. I dropped to me knee's in religous ecstasy, an' started prayin' for me stained an' sorry soul.
Finishin' me fervered prayers, I went to the hull an' kissed the baby Jesus' brow. Instantly, I felt me spirit's soar, an' I knew I be blessed o' the lord.
"Oh, sweet Jesus" I cried,
"I have been blessed by your presence, and shall hunt down an' destroy all infedels in yo' name (as were the custom o' the time)!"
I quickly scanned the surrounds, searching for a heathen soul to offer up to the sweet baby Jesus by rending the satanic fool to pieces. Me eye's fell upon the first mate Bung, who quickly stepped away screamin'
"The Cap'n's gone mad again, he thinks the baby Jesus is'n a piece o' salted crap!"
I leapt upon him and beat him senseless for his blasphemy. Thinkin' quick, I realized that the entire crew must be followers o' the dark one too! Fancy, a God fearin' man like me, hire'n a entire crew o' infidels.
As i slowly squeezed the life from the first mate, i came upon a plan. I gathered up the crew around the body o' the mate an' showed 'em tha' picture o' the Madonna an' child. A couple o' the crew snickered an' made me out to be mad, but i quickly silenced them, by beatin' 'em to death with me trusty parrot, Pete. The rest o' the crew went quiet then, an' I told them their sin's 'ould be forgiven if'n they kissed the baby Jesus' forehead and asked for forgiveness. I 'ad to beat 3 more o' them to death with Pete for tryin' to kiss the Madonna, them all proclaimin'
"I'm sorry Cap'n, I thought that be the right crap stain", afore the rest o' the crew fell into line.
We stayed another 3 weeks in the isles o' Spice afore headin back out to sea, and the damnest thing 'appened while the repairs were under way. All but 4 o' me men died o' disentry! I guess the baby Jesus didn't forgive 'em after all. At least I were able to set sail with me 4 remaining crew, knowin' that they all be good christians and true, and not a Frenchman or Spainyard amongst them.