[Michelle]

Michelle
thanks for referencing Captain Blood, I have the book on which the movie was based, lots of fun and a lot more detailed than the movie.

But you didn't answer your question was Tortuga  a real place yes it was http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tortuga_Island,_Haiti (and you'll see a reference to the author of Captain Blood

"Captain Blood" - 1935

One of the greatest pirate films ever, Captain Blood was based on the wonderful novel by Rafael Sabatini. I loved the book, and as far as I can remember, the film is pretty faithful to the original story. This very exciting film made Errol Flynn and Olivia DeHavilland stars. Michael Curtiz, the master of adventure films, directed the picture, and Erich Korngold composed the music.

The story begins in England during the Monmouth Rebellion in 1685. Flynn plays Dr. Peter Blood, who is arrested for treating a wounded rebel. Though he claims to have no political motives, Blood is convicted of treason and sent to Jamaica as a slave. He ends up working on Colonel Bishop's plantation, having actually been bought by Bishop's beautiful niece (De Havilland).  During a Spanish attack on Port Royal, Dr. Blood and his fellow slaves escape, capture a Spanish galleon, and set sail as pirates in the Caribbean. Although they are pirates, Captain Blood insists that his men abide by an ethical code of conduct that, among other things, forbids the taking of female prisoners.

Finally, we meet Captain Levasseur (Basil Rathbone), a French pirate Levasseur, who joins forces with Captain Blood to increase their profits. They each set sail and agree to meet later on the Island of Virgen Magra. When that day comes, Levasseur captures an English ship that is carrying Miss Bishop as well as the King's emissary Lord Willoughby. Levasseur intends to keep Miss Bishop as a hostage while Lord Willoughby goes to Port Royal to collect a ransom from Colonel Bishop, now Governor of Jamaica. But Captian Blood will have none of it. To prevent Levasseur from laying a hand on her, Blood buys her from Levasseur with pearls. Levasseur becomes angry and a duel to the death ensues.

After Levasseur's death, Captain Blood sets sail for Jamaica to return Miss Bishop home. He learns from Lord Willoughby that King James has been replaced by King William. Lord Willoughby offers Blood and his crew a full pardon.  As they near Jamaica, they see that Port Royal is under attack from the French, and the English fleet that should have been protecting the city is out chasing pirates! Blood fights the French ship and is victorious. As reward, Willoughby appoints Blood Governor of Jamaica.

The highlight of the film is the duel between Captain Blood and Levasseur, which resulted in Levasseur's death. Rathbone and Flynn exhibit excellent swordplay. Rathbone's acting, and even his French accent, was superb.

Robert Donat had originally been cast in the role of Captain Blood, but he backed out of the contract. Although 26-year-old Errol Flynn was under contract with Warner Brothers, he was virtually unknown, having had bit parts in only a few films. Olivia deHavilland was only 19 years old and also new to films. So Warner Brothers was taking a huge risk casting these two newcomers in leading roles. But the risk paid off in a big way and both Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland became stars. Basil Rathbone was already an established and popular star by this time.

With a production budget of less than one million dollars, most of the scenes had to be shot on sound stages. The only scene shot on location was the final showdown between Blood and Levasseur, resulting in the latter's death. This scene was filmed at Laguna Beach. For the ship battles, models of ships were used.

Captain Blood was nominated for four Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Director (Curtiz), Best Sound Editing, and Best Writing/Screenplay. It did not win any awards.


As noted previously. the movie "Captain Blood" is based on "Captain Blood: His Odyssey", an adventure novel by Rafael Sabatini, originally published in 1922.

Sabatini was a proponent of basing historical fiction as closely as possible on history, and so while Blood is a fictional character, much of the historical background of the novel is based on fact. The Monmouth rebels were sold into slavery as described in the book; and the shifting political alliances of the Glorious Revolution of 1688 are used in the novel as a plot device to allow Blood's return to respectability.

The book opens with him attending to his geraniums while the town prepares to fight for the Duke of Monmouth. He wants no part in the rebellion, but while attending to some of the rebels wounded at the Battle of Sedgemoor, Peter is arrested. During the Bloody Assizes, he is convicted by the infamous Judge Jeffreys of treason on the grounds that "if any person be in actual rebellion against the King, and another person—who really and actually was not in rebellion—does knowingly receive, harbour, comfort, or succour him, such a person is as much a traitor as he who indeed bore arms."

From there on the book and the movie follow each other fairly closely.  The book, by the way, is wonderful and I really recommend it.

[Michelle]

Future chapters will make reference to much of this urea..an a friendship between Captain Michelle and Captain Jack Aubrey.....if that name sounds familiar.....as I have been told.....this will explain why.

"Master and Commander" is the first in the Aubrey-Maturin series featuring Jack Aubrey and the naval surgeon Stephen Maturin, set in the Napoleonic Wars. It is a historical novel by Patrick O'Brian, first published in 1969 in the US and 1970 in UK. Ship encounters in this novel draw on the naval feats of Lord Cochrane.

The novel follows the lives of three men, two who meet at a musical performance in 1800 in Port Mahon, and the third who is first lieutenant of the ship on which they sail, as Britain is at war with Napoleon's France.

The 2003 film Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, with actors Russell Crowe and Paul Bettany, was made using themes—but not the plots—from the book Master and Commander and other books in the series, including "The Far Side of the World".

The novel starts out....

"The story starts out on April 1, 1800, in Port Mahon, Minorca, a base of the Royal Navy. A shipless lieutenant wasting away in port, Jack Aubrey, meets Stephen Maturin, a penniless half-Irish and half-Catalan physician and natural philosopher, at an evening concert at the Governor’s Mansion. An offense against honour arises when Jack Aubrey gets elbowed by Maturin to stop beating "a half measure ahead" of the time while the string quartet is playing. Each man is at a low point; they exchange names and locations."

and so the series begins....


John "Jack" Aubrey, JP, MP, FRS is a fictional character in the Aubrey–Maturin series of novels by Patrick O'Brian. The series portrays his rise from lieutenant to rear-admiral in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. The twenty (and one incomplete draft)-book series encompasses Aubrey's adventures and various commands along his course to flying a rear admiral's flag. He starts as a lieutenant, depressed, poor and without a ship until he is given his first command: a fourteen-gun brig-rigged sloop, HMS Sophie.

Most of his naval battles and adventures are drawn from actual Royal Navy history.  Several of his exploits and reverses, most importantly those in the plots of "Master and Commander, The Reverse of the Medal and Blue at the Mizzen", are directly based on the chequered career of Thomas Cochrane: as his friend the botanist and surgeon Stephen Maturin mused, "There was something of Cochrane in Jack, a restless impatience of authority, a strong persuasion of being in the right.

Throughout the books, Aubrey is presented as interested in maths and astronomy, a great lover of music and player of the violin, and is generally accompanied by his friend and shipmate Stephen Maturin on the cello. Aubrey is particularly fond of the music of Corelli and Boccherini. He is noted for his mangling and mis-splicing of proverbs, sometimes with Maturin's involvement, such as “Never count the bear’s skin before it is hatched” and “There’s a good deal to be said for making hay while the iron is hot.”

Aubrey is played by Russell Crowe in the 2003 film Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World and by David Robb in the BBC Radio 4 adaptations of the novels .

This series is one I highly recommend if you enjoy stories of that era...and especially of the sea

[peccavi]

Love your history comments, even if they come from a "Damn Yankee"  and I'm glad your piratical tardis is about to set down in New Orleans -straight from the attack on Panama City.

I'd like to see you try to work in Colonel Thomas Blood somewhere if you can (think jewels)! And while I too would promote Raphael S could you give some consideration to some other writer of historical novels S Weyman (see http://www.stanleyweyman.com/) and Anthony Hope (http://www.silverwhistle.co.uk/ruritania/) though not perhaps H Ryder Haggard

Will there never come a season
 Which shall rid us from the curse
 Of a prose which knows no reason
 And an unmelodious verse:
 When the world shall cease to wonder
 At the genius of an Ass,
 And a boy's eccentric blunder
 Shall not bring success to pass:

 When mankind shall be delivered
 From the clash of magazines,
 And the inkstand shall be shivered
 Into countless smithereens:
 When there stands a muzzled stripling,
 Mute, beside a muzzled bore:
 When the Rudyards cease from Kipling
And the Haggards Ride no more

Did I not say I am loving your stories.  shame on me

[Michelle]

Love your history comments, even if they come from a "Damn Yankee"  and I'm glad your piratical tardis is about to set down in New Orleans -straight from the attack on Panama City.

I'd like to see you try to work in Colonel Thomas Blood somewhere if you can (think jewels)! And while I too would promote Raphael S could you give some consideration to some other writer of historical novels S Weyman (see http://www.stanleyweyman.com/) and Anthony Hope (http://www.silverwhistle.co.uk/ruritania/) though not perhaps H Ryder Haggard

Will there never come a season
 Which shall rid us from the curse
 Of a prose which knows no reason
 And an unmelodious verse:
 When the world shall cease to wonder
 At the genius of an Ass,
 And a boy's eccentric blunder
 Shall not bring success to pass:

 When mankind shall be delivered
 From the clash of magazines,
 And the inkstand shall be shivered
 Into countless smithereens:
 When there stands a muzzled stripling,
 Mute, beside a muzzled bore:
 When the Rudyards cease from Kipling
And the Haggards Ride no more

Did I not say I am loving your stories.  shame on me

With regard to Thomas Blood....will be the subject of a story I am writing just for "him" ...just not maybe as "Thomas Blood".....you'll have to wait for that surprise...my my...wonder who Blood will be portrayed as?  LOL

In fact, one of the boldest thieves and rogues in history was Colonel Thomas Blood, known as the 'Man Who Stole the Crown Jewels'.

Blood was an Irishman, born in County Meath in 1618, the son of a prosperous blacksmith. He came from a good family, his grandfather who lived in Kilnaboy Castle was a Member of Parliament.  He came from a good family, his grandfather who lived in Kilnaboy Castle was a Member of Parliament.

The English Civil War broke out in 1642 and Blood came to England to fight for Charles I, but when it became apparent that Cromwell was going to win, he promptly changed sides and joined the Roundheads.

When Charles I was defeated in 1653 Blood was made a Justice of the Peace and was granted a large estate, but when Charles II returned to the throne in 1660 Blood fled to Ireland with his wife and son.  In Ireland he joined a plot with the disgruntled Cromwellians and attempted to seize Dublin Castle and take the Governor, Lord Ormonde prisoner. This plot failed and he had to flee to Holland, now with a price on his head. in spite of being one of the most wanted men in England, Blood returned in 1670 taking the name Ayloffe and practised as a doctor in Romford!

After another botched attempt to kidnap Lord Ormonde in 1670, where Blood narrowly escaped capture, Blood decided on a bold scheme to steal the Crown Jewels.  The Crown Jewels were kept at the Tower of London in a basement protected by a large metal grille. The Keeper of the Jewels was Talbot Edwards who lived with his family on the floor above the basement.

One day in 1671 Blood, disguised as a 'parson' went to see the Crown Jewels and became friendly with Edwards, returning at a later date with his wife. As the visitors were leaving, Mrs. Blood had a violent stomach-ache and was taken to Edward's apartment to rest. The grateful 'Parson Blood' returned a few days later with 4 pairs of white gloves for Mrs. Edwards in appreciation of her kindness to his wife.

The Edwards family and 'Parson Blood' became close friends and met frequently. Edwards had a pretty daughter and was delighted when 'Parson Blood' proposed a meeting between his wealthy nephew and Edward's daughter.
On 9th May 1671, 'Parson Blood' arrived at 7am. with his 'nephew' and two other men. While the 'nephew' was getting to know Edward's daughter the others in the party expressed a desire to see the Crown Jewels.
Edwards led the way downstairs and unlocked the door to the room where they were kept. At that moment Blood knocked him unconscious with a mallet and stabbed him with a sword.

The grille was removed from in front of the jewels and the crown, orb and sceptre were taken out. The crown was flattened with the mallet and stuffed into a bag, and the orb stuffed down Blood's breeches. The sceptre was too long to go into the bag so Blood's brother-in-law Hunt tried to saw it in half!  At that point Edwards regained consciousness and began to shout "Murder, Treason!". Blood and his accomplices dropped the sceptre and attempted to get away but Blood was arrested as he tried to leave the Tower by the Iron-Gate, after unsuccessfully trying to shoot one of the guards.

In custody Blood refused to answer questions, instead repeating stubbornly, "I'll answer to none but the King himself".  Blood knew that the King had a reputation for liking bold scoundrels and reckoned that his considerable Irish charm would save his neck as it had done several times before in his life.
Blood was taken to the Palace where he was questioned by King Charles, Prince Rupert, The Duke of York and other members of the royal family. King Charles was amused at Blood's audacity when Blood told him that the Crown Jewels were not worth the £100,000 they were valued at, but only £6,000!  The King asked Blood "What if I should give you your life?" and Blood replied humbly, "I would endeavour to deserve it, Sire!"

Blood was not only pardoned, to the disgust of Lord Ormonde, but was given Irish lands worth £500 a year! Blood became a familiar figure around London and made frequent appearances at Court.  Edwards who recovered from his wounds, was rewarded by the King and lived to a ripe old age, recounting his part in the story of the theft of the Jewels to all the visitors to the Tower.

In 1679 Blood's phenomenal luck ran out. He quarrelled with his former patron the Duke of Buckingham. Buckingham demanded £10,000 for some insulting remarks Blood had made about his character. As Blood became ill in 1680 the Duke never got paid, as Blood died on August 24th of that year at the age of 62.

The Crown Jewels have never been stolen since that day - as no other thief has tried to match the audacity of Colonel Blood!

Below are the "Crown Jewels"......

Oooops!...sorry......I mistakenly added my pirate rubber ducky!  Well....that is a crown jewel to me so deal with it!

[peccavi]

good tosee you can do your homework Michelle.

Read Michelle's stories for their educational value.

[Michelle]

Love your history comments, even if they come from a "Damn Yankee"  and I'm glad your piratical tardis is about to set down in New Orleans -straight from the attack on Panama City.

I'd like to see you try to work in Colonel Thomas Blood somewhere if you can (think jewels)! And while I too would promote Raphael S could you give some consideration to some other writer of historical novels S Weyman (see http://www.stanleyweyman.com/) and Anthony Hope (http://www.silverwhistle.co.uk/ruritania/) though not perhaps H Ryder Haggard

Will there never come a season
 Which shall rid us from the curse
 Of a prose which knows no reason
 And an unmelodious verse:
 When the world shall cease to wonder
 At the genius of an Ass,
 And a boy's eccentric blunder
 Shall not bring success to pass:

 When mankind shall be delivered
 From the clash of magazines,
 And the inkstand shall be shivered
 Into countless smithereens:
 When there stands a muzzled stripling,
 Mute, beside a muzzled bore:
 When the Rudyards cease from Kipling
And the Haggards Ride no more

Did I not say I am loving your stories.  shame on me

Anthony Hope - the author of my favorite story of all time, the "Prisoner of Zenda"

The Prisoner of Zenda. What a book! I still remember the day I got it from the library--an ugly old large-print hardcover--and found myself unable to tear myself away, it was so exciting and wonderful. Even if you've never heard of the book, you know the plot: English gentleman of leisure Rudolf Rassendyll travels to the small Balkan kingdom of Ruritania shortly before the coronation of its new king, Rudolf V. There's a family legend that says the Rassendylls have royal Ruritanian blood, and indeed when our hero gets to that country it becomes obvious that he and the new king are identical cousins! Tickled by this happenstance, the King invites Rudolf for a cousinly feast on the eve of his coronation...and then mysteriously disappears, spirited away by his scheming half-brother, Black Michael! The King's two loyal aides, Colonel Sapt and Count Fritz von Tarlenheim, swear that Black Michael shall never sit on the throne of Ruritania...and the only way to stop him is to put Rudolf Rassendyll there instead, pretending to be the real King! In disguise, our hero must outwit Michael and his six sinister henchmen, romance the real King's fiancee, escape multiple assassination attempts, and find a way to rescue the King from the sinister Castle Zenda!

Pardon the exclamation marks. They seemed necessary.

This book is wonderful. What with the danger, romance, intrigue, galloping through the moonlight, swimming moats, getting stabbed, and falling prey to the lovely Princess Flavia, our Rudolf manages to have a tolerably amusing time. It's an exhilarating adventure, practically perfect in every way. The characters simply ooze a dramatic sense of honour and duty:

Colonel Sapt: If that door is opened while we're away, you're not to be alive to tell about it.
Fritz von Tarlenheim: I need no schooling, Colonel.

And of course there's Rupert of Hentzau, Black Michael's right hand and chief backstabber. No other villain in the canon of Western Literature manages to be evil with this much shameless panache.


The author, Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins, better known as Anthony Hope (9 February 1863 – 8 July 1933), was an English novelist and playwright.  He was a prolific writer, especially of adventure novels but he is remembered best for only two books: The Prisoner of Zenda (1894) and its sequel Rupert of Hentzau (1898). These works, "minor classics" of English literature, are set in the contemporaneous fictional country of Ruritania and spawned the genre known as Ruritanian romance.  Zenda has inspired many adaptations, most notably the 1937 Hollywood movie of the same name.

The idea for Hope's tale of political intrigue, The Prisoner of Zenda, being the history of three months in the life of an English gentleman, came to him at the close of 1893 as he was walking in London. Hope finished the first draft in a month and the book was in print by April. The story is set in the fictional European kingdom of 'Ruritania', a term which has come to mean 'the novelist's and dramatist's locale for court romances in a modern setting.'Zenda achieved instant success and its witty protagonist, the debonair Rudolf Rassendyll, became a well-known literary creation. The novel was praised by Mason, literary critic Andrew Lang, and Robert Louis Stevenson.  The popularity of Zenda convinced Hope to give up the "brilliant legal career [that] seemed to lie ahead of him" to become a full-time writer but he "never again achieved such complete artistic success as in this one book."  Also in 1894, Hope produced The God in the Car, a political story.

This book has been made into a film five times since it was written in 1894.  The 1937 version is still by far the best in my opinion.

The Prisoner of Zenda is a 1937 black-and-white adventure film based on the Anthony Hope 1894 novel of the same name and the 1896 play. Of the many film adaptations, this is considered by many to be the definitive version.

The 1937 film starred Ronald Colman, Madeleine Carroll and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., with a supporting cast including C. Aubrey Smith, Raymond Massey, Mary Astor and David Niven. It was directed by John Cromwell, produced by David O. Selznick for Selznick International Pictures, and distributed by United Artists. The screenplay was written by John L. Balderston, adapted by Wells Root from the novel, with dramatisation by Edward Rose; Donald Ogden Stewart was responsible for additional dialogue, and Ben Hecht and Sidney Howard made uncredited contributions.

[Michelle]

Love your history comments, even if they come from a "Damn Yankee"  and I'm glad your piratical tardis is about to set down in New Orleans -straight from the attack on Panama City.

I'd like to see you try to work in Colonel Thomas Blood somewhere if you can (think jewels)! And while I too would promote Raphael S could you give some consideration to some other writer of historical novels S Weyman (see http://www.stanleyweyman.com/) and Anthony Hope (http://www.silverwhistle.co.uk/ruritania/) though not perhaps H Ryder Haggard

Will there never come a season
 Which shall rid us from the curse
 Of a prose which knows no reason
 And an unmelodious verse:
 When the world shall cease to wonder
 At the genius of an Ass,
 And a boy's eccentric blunder
 Shall not bring success to pass:

 When mankind shall be delivered
 From the clash of magazines,
 And the inkstand shall be shivered
 Into countless smithereens:
 When there stands a muzzled stripling,
 Mute, beside a muzzled bore:
 When the Rudyards cease from Kipling
And the Haggards Ride no more

Did I not say I am loving your stories.  shame on me

Haggard is most well known for his wonderful novel "King Soloman' Mines" and its colorful character Allen Quartermain

Sir Henry Rider Haggard, KBE (/ˈhæɡərd/; 22 June 1856 – 14 May 1925) was an English writer of adventure novels set in exotic locations, predominantly Africa, and a founder of the Lost World literary genre.

King Solomon's Mines (1885) is a popular novel by the Victorian adventure writer and fabulist Sir H. Rider Haggard. It tells of a search of an unexplored region of Africa by a group of adventurers led by Allan Quatermain for the missing brother of one of the party. It is the first English adventure novel set in Africa, and is considered to be the genesis of the Lost World literary genre.

King Solomon's Mines (1885) is a popular novel by the Victorian adventure writer and fabulist Sir H. Rider Haggard. It tells of a search of an unexplored region of Africa by a group of adventurers led by Allan Quatermain for the missing brother of one of the party. It is the first English adventure novel set in Africa, and is considered to be the genesis of the Lost World literary genre.

It should be noted that the "mines" have a basis in reality and is not just some fanciful tale by creative author.
The biblical Solomon, a king of Israel and son of King David, was renowned for his fabled wisdom, power and his personal fortune, often described as one of the largest in the ancient world. But while Solomon’s famed wealth is a story as old as the ages, the popular fascination with locating a portion of this fantastic fortune is a far more recent affair. The idea of mines full of riches was first introduced in the late 19th century by author H. Rider Haggard in his blockbuster adventure novel, King Solomon’s Mines, whose publication coincided with a boom in archeological discoveries of ancient sites in the Middle East and Africa.

Half a century later, American rabbi and archaeologist Nelson Glueck made headlines of his own when he announced that he had located Solomon’s mines in the Great Rift Valley near the modern-day boundary of Israel and Jordan. These mines, however, weren’t filled with gold–they were extensive copper-smelting plants that Glueck maintained were the true source of Solomon’s wealth. Unable to connect archaeological evidence to biblical accounts, however, modern historians soon began to doubt Glueck’s connection of Solomon to the region’s copper production.

For the past few decades, conventional wisdom has held that the ancient Egyptians built most of the mines in the region during the 13th century B.C.—a theory supported by the discovery of an Egyptian temple at the complex in 1969. In 2008, however, researchers located a mining site in neighboring Jordan (known as Khirbat en-Nahas) that archaeological evidence suggested became operational 300 years later that previously assumed, during the 10th century B.C. The following year, another excavation identified a site in Israel’s Timna Valley, dubbed Site 30, which was home to a cooper-smelting camp also believed to have been built in same time period as the Jordanian mine— likely too late for an Egyptian settlement but squarely within the biblical timeframe for Solomon’s famed mines.

In 2013 Dr. Erez Ben-Yousef, an archaeologist from Tel Aviv University who had helped discover Site 30 while a graduate student at the University of California, San Diego, led a new dig in a previously unexamined section of the site known as Slaves’ Hill. As with elsewhere at the Timna Valley site, Ben-Yousef’s team uncovered archaeological evidence of dozens of the furnaces used to smelt copper as well as layers of cooper slag, a by-product of the smelting process.

As for any concrete evidence of King Solomon or what, if any role, he may have played in the copper-mine production in the region, the search continues: Dr. Ben-Yousef will lead another dig at the site later in 2014.

Who knows, maybe life really does imitate art.....and the mines will be found and another of the great ancient mysteries will be solved...

[##catfitewatcher314]

Professor Michelle    at what college?  lol

[Michelle]

Pirates vs. Ninja Fuckers 2.0

There is a longstanding controversy on which many heated debates have been raged all around us. For many readers, my opinion on this subject is long overdue (OK OK, I've GIVEN my opinion on this subject before!). At every step I hear the masses clamoring for my logic and reasoning. (For those for whom my opinion is completely superfluous and un-asked-for, I make a humble offering of my fine world class ass to kiss!). For the rest of you, the few, the many, the proud, the readers of my literary genius, I offer my discourse on the age-old battle of PIRATES VS. NINJAS FUCKERS!

        As you will divine from my writing (and the title of this brilliant piece of work should give a hint, even to the most casual of observers), I have already chosen sides, and am arguing accordingly. Even so, we must consider all sides of this argument (never say Captain Michelle isn't fair), and the respective merits and deficiencies of pirates and ninjas in a variety of spheres, or categories, or spherical categories (Spheres?  Sorry..I was thinking about a boob job...my mind wandered....).

To begin, there are many different categories in which to rate our subjects (I want to thank Stanford University ahead of time for allowing me to do this study using their facilities.  Its going to get me that long overdue and richly deserved Doctoral Degree and endowed chair)

The Rough and Ready  Pirates and ninjas are both known for their toughness, difficulty to kill, and readiness for action. However, their rough and ready is stemmed from different roots. Ninjas are countable as rough because they are tough, and the two come hand in hand. Their toughness (defined here as resistance to being killed, combined with the fact that they can stand to wear those fucking pajamas 24/7!) is a result of many years of intensive training and prescription drug addiction. They are ready simply because they have been trained for every possible outcome. Pirates, on the other hand, have rough and ready as more of a general disposition. They are rough in every sense of the word: tough, swarthy, grizzled, crude, stubbly, smelly. Because they have no specific training--they're just sort of making it up as they go along--they are in some ways more ready for anything than even ninjas. They must expect the unexpected and be ready for--WHATEVER!

Pirates are great multi-taskers and unlike ninja fuckers are adept at using a variety of weaponry, such as pistols, muskets of a wide variety, cutlass, claymore, knives, grenades, shoulder fired surface-to-air-missles, and the list goes on.  Ninjas - well can you say "metal throwing star thingies?"  Again, who do you want on your asset team at work, the one trick pony that is the ninja or the pirate multi-tasker?  Ever seen a ninja run a copier machine or do a powerpoint under duress?  Can a ninja make the overhead projector work and interface with your laptop?  I rest my case your honor!

Pirates take things as they come with one objective in mind: Get Loot (that means "loot" for the asset team cause remember, when it come performance review time your boss is going to quote you what your achievements were and without your teammates help, you are so SCREWED!). Pirates also make great crisis managers as they can improvise and think on their feet.  Try that with a ninja.  Need someone to make that last minute presentation to the boss?  You need that guy to bring some wenches to that client dinner to impress the bastards? You go with the pirate every time! HA!
Tie, but I lean to pirates.  In fact I may change my mind.  Its what a good researcher does!


Kill Count  Here the ninjas have the obvious advantage. Ninjas must be highly effective killing machines just to make it through ninja school. You can't imagine how cut throat ninja community college is!  You know how we all made life long friends at college and established those relationships that follow us throughout our careers?  You think ninja fuckers do that?  Au contraire mes amis!  In their favor, pirates are ruthless and may kill on whim, where ninjas only kill those of whom they are hired to dispose. However, ninjas kill A LOT. Generally, that's their objective.

 Pirates just want to loot (Its capitalism in its highest form.  Consider us pirates as being the Goldman Sachs of our era.  We didn't give a shit about your home mortgage rate or your God Damn 401K!  FUCK IT!  It was all about our year end BONUS!)  , and killing comes as an unavoidable by-product. And when ninjas want to kill someone, they DO it. The guy is dead before he knows there's anyone else in the house. Pirates would be more likely to kill someone in a fight, or accidentally swing their cutlass through some innocent bystanders whilst attempting to loot a poor village, and not care.
Winner: Ninjas


Fashion Sense  This is not only a battle of pirate duds vs. basic black but individuality vs. conformity. Ninjas are all in black, all the same.  HOW CAN THEY EVER HOPE TO ACCESSORIZE?  You can only wear the same stuff with black so long!  Granted, this helps them do their job (try sneaking up on anyone in bright red bandana and bangle bracelets, cutlass clanging at your side) and protects their identity, important in the assassination field (unless you want to make some cash doing that all important interview on NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams).  But the ninjas really have no identity (boring). They're all perfect killing machines... all of them. One is interchangable for another.  For me, it's Ants Syndrome. When you see one ant, he's kinda cool. Cute, even. But when you see a lot of them, all crawling different ways, it's gross.  Same with ninjas.  When you see one perfect killing machine, it's cool. But a lot of them, all the same, and it's not that cool anymore. They're a dime a dozen.  In short, THEY'RE WEARING FUCKING PAJAMAS!  That's not to say killing in one's pajama's is a bad thing, but seriously?  And the metal star thingies they throw?  Are you shitting me?  Before one of those little fuckers could wind up and flick one at me I'd blow his ass away with my pistol!  Let's see a ninja fucker duck a musket ball!  
          Pirates don't run the risk of losing coolness if there's a lot of them because they're all different. They're all their own person. Even within the realm of pirates, there are many different types and styles of dress, from the Fashionable Sophisticated Dandy (Johnny Depp) to the Lowly Scurvy Grog-guzzling Bestubbled Grunt, to the Crazy Old Pirate Captain With A Pegleg And A Hook And A Glass Eye And A Million Stories. You can mix, you can match, you can create your own. Be your own pirate! Pirates, as many of you don't know, were the very first to "accessorize' and any woman knows how key that is to life in the big city.
Winner: Pirates


Boss-Employee Relations  Like countless Americans, I'm not really clear on what a ninja is. Sometimes I get them confused with samurai. But here's how I see it: Ninjas are mercenaries, so they go from boss to boss, being paid to kill so-and-so. When under a certain boss, they give complete loyalty. They would commit suicide before divulging mission information. If their boss orders them to commit suicide, they do that too without a peep (sounds like a damn clique to me).
          Pirates are mercenaries, too. At least, they're mercenary. They work for profit and profit only. Mostly, piracy is a "look out for number one" type deal. Your Captain won't look out for you particularly, except enough to keep you from mutinying, and you only look out for your captain insomuch as she causes the whole outfit to be profitable in the first place. If she gets too out of line, or doesn't make enough money, you can always mutiny (as a whole crew) or just leave (as an individual). (Though leaving may be tough if you're out on the high seas. You might find yourself dead first.) Ninjas don't have the option of backing out or changing the people in power, since their code (BUSHIDO, unless I'm mistaken) dictates crazy amounts of honor and loyalty.

Bottom line, ninja's are not good team players.  Would you want a ninja fucker on your asset team at work? Really?  Really Now?  Try getting that fucker to run your economics on that deal the team is working on before a deadline.  Try getting a ninja to take clients out and make small talk at that all important "client suck-up" dinner!  Ever seen a ninja fucker pick up the tab at dinner??
Winner (Company Loyalty and Smooth Workplace Transactions): Pirates (ninjas can be loyal but lets face it, blind loyalty hasn't worked since the old Soviet Union)
Winner (Possbility for Promotion and Fringe Benefits): Pirates by a wide margin


Focus on Objectives  Pirates have a lot on their minds. Though their basic objective (Get Loot, Pillage, grab an occasional wench.  Its alot like it was for some of you guys in college, am I right?  Get money from Mom and Dad, Party, Get Laid!  Dr. Phil aint got nuthin on me!) is clear, there's a lot of thought that goes into making sure they get the most loot possibe. At all times, they must be thinking about their Captain--is she the right Captain for me?  Does she do "threesomes"?  How does she look in a bikini?  Is she getting us enough loot? Am I getting a big enough share of that loot? Is the Captain, or any other crew member, going to kill me? Am I going to kill the Captain (not likely you pussies), or any other crew member?  Do others on the crew feel the way I do?  Is mutiny an option?  How are other crews doing?  Do they have better health and medical benefits?  How does my 401K stack up to theirs?  Would it be more profitable to join another crew?  Not to mention their fashion qualms. Is the "one-earring" look right for me? Red or blue bandana? Tri-cornered hat--cool or tacky? Am I attracted to members of my own sex? What if I had a parrot?  What cleans parrot shit best off my stylish tunic?  Will the colors fade?
          Ninjas have their clothes decided for them (it's black or nothin'), their mission set out and their pay non-negotiable. Because they have utter loyalty to their higher-ups, they don't waste any time second-guessing their superiors' decisions. They just carry out their mission.
Winner: Ninjas but if I was boss I would prefer the individuality of the pirate.  What if the boss was a psycho?  You would want that pirate there standing up to him/her and saying "Enough is enough and we workers have rights!"

Profitability  Anyone who hires ninjas has to be rich, like that guy in the James Bond book (that Goldfinger fucker, another one-color no fashion sense loser.  That was kickass, by the way.) They're a pricy bunch. However, they are a bunch. You're going to end up hiring assloads of ninjas, shitloads of ninjas!  Dividing up all the pay, they get maybe the equivalent of ten bucks an hour.  Can someone spell for me "INCREASE IN THE MINIMUM WAGE!"  If they're lucky they'll get 10 busks that is!  Pirates, on the other hand, are all about profitability.  If they're not making what they'd like to, they find another crew. Why the hell not?   THERE IS NO "I" in TEAM!  That or kill the Captain (not on my ship motherfucker), if her strategies are unprofitable, or she's keeping too much of the loot for herself (don't even go there). Likewise, the Captain makes sure she has the smallest crew possible to carry out her missions, so the loot doesn't have to be divided as many ways (I didn't get that MBA for nothing!).  Really profitable pirating outfits won't want to take on any new crew members, if they're doing fine the way they are. There's a lot of factors, really. Damn! I just had a great idea for the Maxis corportation! SIM PIRATE!
Winner: Pirates

b]Fun Factor[/b]  Let's face it, being a pirate is just more fun than being a ninja. Ninjas require a lot of schooling and often have to give their own lives for the greater good (God Damn what a stupid idea, sounds alike like fucking socialism to me). Who wants that? Pirates are just looking out for their own best interests, so they have more money, and do more of what they want, more of the time. True, there's a higher chance of you being killed by one of your co-workers, bosses, or numerous enemies. But if you survive, you've got a tidy pension to have fun on for the rest of your life. And in the meantime, looting and pillaging is just good times.   if you're really lucky, you might get to serve under Captain Michelle where its like a toga party every night!  She also matched up to 7% on your 401K!
Winner: Pirates


Overall Winner: I think the numbers speak for themselves.  PIRATES!

[Michelle]

BLACK SAILS REVIEW - STARZ Series

Something in us loves a pirate. Of all the world's brigands, the pirate is the most romantic, the one whose way of life represents a breezy alternative to our drudging own. What child does not know how many men sit on a dead man's chest?

They have been in the movies at least since D.W. Griffith's "The Pirate's Gold" in 1906, and you lately may have felt the franchise that is "Pirates of the Caribbean" brush your shoulder as it made its way through the marketplace. There has been the occasional TV movie, as well, but a full-fledged pirate series has been long in coming. And now we are going to have two of them, in short order.

"Black Sails", in my opinion, is nothing short of brilliant, a darker Pirates of the Caribbean for the small screen. Not only is the acting fantastic and moving, even in the very first episode, but the setting, costumes, script, among numerous other aspects are simply breathtaking. I felt like I was being fully enmeshed in the life of a pirate in the 18th century. This didn’t feel like a simple television show. The tale grew larger than it’s smaller screen and felt much more like a big screen box office movie, something along the lines of Pirates or Master and Commander. Mark my words, this television show will be making waves.

It is the 18th century during the Golden Age of piracy, and New Providence is a lawless island controlled by the fiercest pirates roaming the seas. In Black Sails we follow the crew of Captain Flint as they pillage ships for treasure, searching for the greatest treasure of them all, a ship owned by the Spanish said to hold a king’s ransom worth of gold and treasure on it. We see the lives of the different crew members, from the feared captain himself to the lowly cook, who holds a secret of his own.

I thought the visual effects were stunning, if a bit gory at times. The initial battle scene will send shivers down your spine. Though we get a good loud battle scene at the beginning of the first episode, however, the show is not mostly comprised of piratical murder and mayhem. The show's creators, Robert Levine and Jonathan E. Steinberg, chose to give the show a bit more historical depth, including political and philosophical issues among its' story lines. So, you won’t be getting any parrots on shoulders or “Aargh matey”s. The elevated content adds a much needed depth to a show that could easily have been ridiculous and farcical.

The show also has a superbly talented cast. Toby Stephens (Jane Eyre) leads as Captain Flint and does a fine job of it. His dramatic portrayal of the trials and difficulties of being a pirate captain lends itself to the more serious note of the show. He demonstrates the precarious nature of his position among the immoral and dangerous pirates, and the desperation one would feel to keep that position when to lose it would mean one's death.  The semi-heroic Flint, captain of the fictional ship "Walrus" is a complex soul; he's a dreamer, he's a schemer, and he's got a line on the biggest haul ever. With his share he seeks to found and defend an agrarian utopia where "civilization," whose coming he can smell like salt on the sea air, cannot touch him. We know how that turned out.
"They're not animals," he says of his crew (who are better behaved than Vane's). "They're men starved of hope; give that back to them, who's to say what could happen."

Adding some female ingenuity and cleverness to the cast is Hannah New playing Eleanor Guthrie, the daughter of the head tradesman on the island. She shows that a woman can wield power just as well as any man, and also adds a sense of vulnerability to her character at the same time. She will be one to watch in the coming season. Maybe even better is there is also, which should delight many, an abundance of female nudity, so expected by now that one imagines a Standards & Practices department whose job it is to ensure that not 15 minutes go by without a bare breast or buttock. You just have to love it and the times, they are a changing. There is an attempt to write this off by making all the female characters with speaking parts — including Bonny and big-time fence Eleanor Guthrie (Hannah New) — tough and self-directed, a match for the men in everything but muscle mass. But a lot of it is just "The Girls of 'Black Sails.'"  And isn't that just the way it should be at times?

As for romance, I was less than impressed with that aspect of the show. There is a contrived liaison between the young cook and one of the prostitutes, Max, played by Jessica Parker Kennedy, whom you might remember from The Secret Circle, but it really has more to do with the secrets they both share than anything else. It would also seem that Max is in some kind of relationship with Eleanor, but we’ll see where that goes.

Overall Impression
If you want a show about the real history and struggles of pirates in the 18th century with just a dash of treasure hunting, then this is the show for you. It takes a realistic approach to the myth of the dashing pirate, and shows us the gritty truth. I thought the first episode was quite good and am looking forward to seeing how it moves forward. It is certainly unlike any pirate story we’ve seen on the big or small screen yet. I would definitely recommend giving it a try

[Michelle]

As we approach "National Talk Like A Pirate Day"....and for me to get off my ass and publish Chapter 5....I thought I'd publish the column that started the craze by one of my favorite columnists, Dave Barry of the Miami Herald
The countdown to National talk Like a Pirate Day begins now!

Arrrrr!  Talk like a pirate -- or prepare to be boarded

BY DAVE BARRY
(This classic Dave Barry column was originally published Sept. 8, 2002.)

Every now and then, some visionary individuals come along with a concept that is so original and so revolutionary that your immediate reaction is: ''Those individuals should be on medication.''

Today I want to tell you about two such people, John Baur and Mark Summers, who have come up with a concept that is going to make you kick yourself for not thinking of it first: Talk Like a Pirate Day. As the name suggests, this is a day on which everybody would talk like a pirate. Is that a great idea, or what? There are so many practical benefits that I can't even begin to list them all.

Baur and Summers came up with this idea a few years ago. They were playing racquetball, and, as so often happens, they began talking like pirates. And then it struck them: Why not have a day when EVERYBODY talks like a pirate? They decided that the logical day would be Sept. 19, because that -- as you are no doubt aware -- is Summers' ex-wife's birthday.

Since then, Baur and Summers have made a near-superhuman effort to promote Talk Like a Pirate Day. As Baur puts it: ``We've talked like pirates, and encouraged our several friends to, every Sept. 19, except for a couple where we forgot.''

And yet, incredibly, despite this well-orchestrated campaign, the nation has turned a deaf shoulder to Talk Like a Pirate Day. In desperation, Baur and Summers turned to me for help. As an influential newspaper columnist, I have the power to ''make or break'' a national day. You may recall that almost nobody celebrated Thanksgiving until I began writing about it in the 1970s.

I have given Baur's and Summers' idea serious thought, looking for ways to improve it. One variation I considered was Talk Like a Member of the Lollipop Guild Day, on which everybody would talk like the three Munchkins in the film version of The Wizard of Oz who welcome Dorothy to Munchkin Land by singing with one corner of their mouths drooping down, as though they have large invisible dental suction devices hanging from their lips. But I realized that would be stupid.

So I have decided to throw my full support behind Talk Like a Pirate Day, to be observed this Sept. 19. To help promote this important cause, I have decided to seek the endorsement of famous celebrities, and I am pleased to report that, as of today, Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, Britney Spears, Brad Pitt, Oprah Winfrey, the Osbournes, Tiger Woods, Ted Koppel, the Sopranos, Puff Doody and the late Elvis Presley are all people who I hope will read this column and become big supporters. I see no need to recruit President Bush, because he already talks like a pirate, as we can see from this transcript of a recent White House press conference:

REPORTER: Could you please explain either your foreign or your domestic policy?

PRESIDENT BUSH: Arrrrr.

To prepare for Talk Like a Pirate Day, you should practice incorporating pirate terminology into your everyday speech. For example, let's consider a typical conversation between two co-workers in a business office:

BOB: Hi. Mary.

MARY: Hi, Bob. Have you had a chance to look at the Fennerman contract?

BOB: Yes, and I have some suggestions.

MARY: OK, I'll review them.

Now let's see how this same conversation would sound on Talk Like a Pirate Day:

BOB: Avast, me beauty.

MARY: Avast, Bob. Is that a yardarm in your doubloons, or are you just glad to see me?

BOB: You are giving me the desire to haul some keel.

MARY: Arrrrr.

As you can see, talking like a pirate will infuse your everyday conversations with romance and danger. So join the movement! On Sept. 19, do not answer the phone with ''hello.'' Answer the phone with ''Ahoy me hearty!'' If the caller objects that he is not a hearty, inform him that he is a scurvy dog (or, if the caller is female, a scurvy female dog) who will be walking the plank off the poop deck and winding up in Davy Jones' locker, sleeping with the fishes. No, wait, that would be Talk Like a Pirate in The Godfather Day, which is another variation I considered (``I'm gonna make him an offer that will shiver his timbers'').

But the point is, this is a great idea, and you, me bucko, should be part of it. Join us on Sept. 19. You HAVE the buckles, darn it: Don't be afraid to swash them! Let's make this into a grass-roots movement that sweeps the nation, like campaign-finance reform, or Krispy Kreme doughnuts. I truly think this idea could bring us, as a nation, closer together.

But not TOO much closer. Some of us will have swords.

 

[Michelle]

If Chapter 5 ends up like it started in the partial copy you emailed me earlier today, I can't wait for the final!  I'm expecting it this weekend! Hurry!  LOL

I'll be posting it tonight....part 1 of Chapter 5....hope you enjoy it.....

[Michelle]

The following is Chapter 5 Part 1 and MY NEWEST CHAPTER of my continuing series on "The Sexy Sluts of the Spanish Main and Dread Pirate Michelle"  Michelle and her fleet have decided for a little action in Puerto del Principe, Cuba and get a surprise in the form of a French frigate.  Again. Many thinks to those of you who have supported my writing of this series and I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have loved writing it.  As always , any comments, suggestions, cheers and jeers are welcomed as I am always looking to try and make this series better and more entertaining.

So here we go with Chapter 5 Part 1!!

Chapter 5, Part 1 – The Sexy Sluts and Captain Michelle Make for Cuba – The 50 Shades of Captain Michelle - "Southern Cross" and the "L’Insurgente"

Time: Sunrise, December 15, 1814
Place: Captain Michelle’s cabin on her flagship the 54-gun frigate “Southern Cross”
Location: the northern cost of Cuba, approaching the "Port of Puerto del Principe" after leaving Havana.  

"Puerto del Principe" was the first harbor on the Island of Cuba visited by Columbus (on November 18, 1492) during his first voyage of discovery, and called by him Puerto del Príncipe.  In November 1511, Diego de Velazquez was sent by Columbus, son of the great Admiral and Governor at the time of Santo Domingo, with an expedition of four ships and 300 men, to conquer and settle the island. Here in 1514, in the same harbor Columbus had named Puerto del Príncipe he planted a colony and gave to it the name of "Santa María Puerto del Principe".

Why Puerto Del Principe?  Michelle had been asked that question for weeks now.  Even her trusted lieutenants Harper, Annie and Mary didn’t know.  Everyone was simply following Captain Michelle’s orders without question.  They all trusted her and she had never steered them wrong, always leading them through each and every "storm" they had ever faced.  Michelle had heard stories of a treasure so great, so vast, it would make all they had plundered to date pale in comparison.  She now had as close to “proof” of that treasures existence as she could ever have dreamed of.  She had eyewitness accounts and SHE HAD A MAP!   The treasure in question was the legendary “Cock D’Oro”, the famous “Golden Cock” (I aint talking a rooster here folks!) and associated treasures.   It was left by an ancient and sacred Mayan civilization and was widely considered to be a treasure that you could not put a price on.  It was not just ANY COCK,  but a COCK OF SOLID FUCKING GOLD!!  When I say huge, this fucker was HUGE!  Legend had it , this cock was SIX METERS LONG AND A METER IN DIAMATER  (Now I ask you, did you really HONESTLY think a story with Michelle in it would last this long (sorry, no pun intended) and there be absolutely NO talk of a COCK?  SERIOUSLY?  REALLY NOW?)

What no one but Michelle knew was she had confided in Harper and told her of her plans and the treasure.  She asked Harper if this time she was being irrational,  taking too big a chance and putting the lives of she and the crew under excessive if not insane risks.  As they stood on deck one afternoon when the "Southern Cross" was caught in a hurricane and it looked like the ship would be destroyed, she asked Harper,

“My God Harper, what have I done?”

Harper answered,

“What you had to do. What you always do.…you cheat death….then turn death into a fighting chance to live."

“BESIDES, IT'S A BIG COCK!”  “I MEAN COME ON CHELLEY!”  “YOU KNOW YOU AND COCK!!”

So Captain Michelle was on a quest, a quest for her own vision of the “Holy Grail”.    Michelle also knew it would be a quest that would be fraught with danger and surprises.  But that was why she became a pirate and why she was the captain!  

I am awake before dawn, 0500 a.m., the bells striking two times, almost seeming far off and then a moment later very near. The most devout moments of my life have been spent in bed early in the morning listening to those bells. They flood over me, drawing me out of myself.  I know where I am suddenly: part of this ship and happy.  I lean out of the window and am washed by the cool sea air, air it seems that no one else has yet breathed.  I was where I wanted to be, the only place I called home…. this ship, the sea.

THREE BELLS IN the morning watch found the “Southern Cross” sailing steadily northeastward along the twenty-third parallel with the wind just abaft her beam; she was heeling no more than two strakes under her topgallant sails, and she could have set her royals, if the amorphous heap of merchantmen under her lee had not determined to travel very slowly until full daylight, no doubt for fear of “tripping over the lines of longitude” or losing our bearings. The sky was still grey and it was impossible to say whether it was clear or covered with very high cloud; but the sea itself already had a nacreous light that belonged more to the day than the darkness, and this light was reflected in the great convexities of the topsails, giving them the lustre of grey pearls.    God I love the sea!!…

As always, I took my morning walk on deck walking by the morning sentry and smiled  “Good Morning Ailes”  “How goes the morning?”

Ailes was one of the younger ladies of the crew, but always ready with a smile and a salute, although ceremony was something Captain Michelle hardly stood for on the “Southern Cross”

“Wonderful Morning Captain Ma’am!” Ailes replied as she saluted while Michelle walked by.

We seemed so far away from the fire that seemed to be enveloping the world at this time.  War raged in Europe as Napoleon had escaped from Elba and raised another Grande Armée de la République as the Allies struggled to mount a resistance led by Wellington.  Another war raged in America as England and the United States were locked in a death struggle once again (can’t we all just get along?).

Captain Michelle had just left Havana after meeting with her long time friend, Captain Jack Aubrey of the Royal Navy.  Michelle and Aubrey first met when both served aboard ship under Lord Nelson and it’s a friendship that transcends the woes of war.  Aubrey was sent to negotiate with Michelle to bring her pirates into the war with England against America.  It was a task Aubrey hated as he secretly admired the new young country and he much preferred searching the oceans of the world looking for French ships and prizes.  He was glad he would be able to stay out of it the American conflict but he was asked by the Admiralty to talk to Michelle and he obeyed.  England wanted Captain Michelle’s on their side, pirate or not.

Despite some of her actions brutal and illegitimate activities, Captain Michelle was not a pirate in the evil sense. The Scotswoman was a magnificent buccaneer , certainly the most famous one . Described as a remarkable leader and a fearsome conqueror, she had a couple of legendary battles and unique tactics, which brought her fame and wealth. Because of all her deeds, Michelle was a true hero of the Caribbean.  She also knew she didn’t need England, England needed her.

He was happy to see his old friend and he already knew what her answer would be and where her heart was.  Part of him hoped the war with America would end soon and she wouldn’t become involved.  Events in Belgium would hopefully see to that.  First, The United States and England were already negotiating an end to the war in Ghent, Belgium.  It also appeared that the allies would settle a score with Napoleon once and for all, also in Belgium.  Rumor had it armies were massing on either side of a small town called Waterloo.  Two of the greatest battles in military history were about to explode and finally bring the world peace, Aubrey hoped.

As he made preparations to sail from Puerto del Principe in his ship, the Sophie, he wished in many ways he could have stayed with her and become one of her pirates.  Such is the stuff dreams are made of.  But Aubrey was of England, it was his home and he was a Royal Navy officer.  His loyalty was unquestioned.  But like his friend Michelle, that word “friend” meant everything.  He was glad to be sailing away in spite of his longing.  It just wasn’t the right time.  He remembered their final words together as she asked him who he thought was going to win the war with America.    Aubrey repiled,

“I’d speculate that England will prevail as always.  Emgland always prevails”

Michelle smiled at her old friend and replied,

"Speculation is a poor form of investment and equally poor form of politics."

“I’ll take my chances on America Jack”  “I think Vegas has them at 3 to 2”

Jack laughed out loud as he knew that somehow in his heart of hearts, Michelle was probably right.  She always seemed to be right and knew things before he did.  He wasn’t afraid to admit she was probably a better captain than him too.  Michelle still wondered about the offer Aubrey had made her.  A captaincy in the Royal Navy, her very own “ship of the line” and crew was indeed attractive.  Those Royal Navy uniforms are pretty stylish overall, she thought; if they would only design one that showed my tummy a bit and had a little cleavage I might take their offer more seriously.  Michelle said to herself,

“It was so refreshing to work with someone who'll throw a saddle on a gift horse rather than look it in the mouth”

Michelle’s second home was England and there were days she longed for life in London again.  She so missed Jack and his wife; they were like family to her.  There were, however, stronger forces pulling her though.  She had sat up many a night and read and re-read the United States Declaration of Independence.  She wondered “Was this for me?  My crew?”  Could America be that “firm” deck under our feet instead of the shifting waters of an often unforgiving ocean?  She then read the letter she got from her close friend Jean Lafitte.  His words moved her and the two often were of one mind.  She longed for him, and for America. She woke finally from her daydream and found herself gazing out over the bow railing over the open seas.  The following is from Captain Michelle’s journal for that faithful day:

I walked back to my cabin after my early morning stroll on deck and opened the door, turning to see the morning sunrise flowing through the bay windows.

As I entered my cabin, I noticed “her” clothes on the floor, leaving a trail towards my bed. Following it with my eyes to see where it ended I saw “Annie” sprawled naked on her back on my bed.  Her hair was shorter, a slightly lighter auburn streaked with stunning gold highlights flowing like a waterfall, pouring down her right shoulder. The black silk sheets were pulled around her waist leaving her glorious perfect sensual up-turned breasts on display.

I remembered the first time I had met Anne Bonney…

Captain Michelle: “Dear lady, what do they call you?”
Anne: “Annie when they’re sober, a whore when they’re sauced.  But NEVER lady”

            Anne Bonney meeting Captain Michelle in Port Royal in 1794.

I call her “Annie”, if anyone else did she most likely would shoot them or run them through.  That’s my Annie.


Annie took what she wanted from the world and never made any apologies.  She and I were alike in so many respects.  Annie had her beginnings as an illegitimate child, through her volatile coming-of-age as a misbegotten aristocrat, rebellious daughter, and hot-tempered teen. But it is her transformation to a cutthroat pirate who pined for seafaring adventure, enduring love, and the lasting bonds of friendship that showcased Bonney's true spirit.  That is what truly endeared her to me.

Licking my lips, I began picturing herself suckling on her small pink nipples, as I stripped off my pants, tossed my plumed hat aside and began unbuttoning my shirt. Our eyes locked on each other’s, hers lighting up as she watched me slowly, seductively undress at the foot of the bed.   I finally was standing there in only my matching bra and panties and black thigh highs (courtesy of Victoria’s Secret in Havana), reaching up and grabbing the loose end of the black ribbon that held my long dark chocolate brown hair back in a ponytail.  Feeling it cascade down over my bare shoulders and down my back as I pulled the silk ribbon free. I reached behind me and unfastened my bra, my firm rounded aching breasts falling free, my own nipples growing harder and more erect instantly.

Looking around, I suddenly got this wicked smile on my face. I walked over and plucked one of the long peacock feathers from the vase on the floor in the corner.  My bare feet danced across the wooden floor as I made my way back to the bed.  I crept back towards the foot of the bed and noticed she had covered her eyes with a scarf – it did make the game more fun and sexier.  Standing about a foot from the edge of the bed I slowly raised the feather, held it above her body and thought of where I wanted to start.  Should I start with her feet, her legs…..those long luscious legs that never seemed to end…..or should I start where my lips wanted to be??  

“Decisions, Decisions!”

I’m pretty sure Annie realizes the real power her pussy possesses.  As a wise woman once said,

"Power is a lot like real estate. It's all about location, location, location. The closer you are to the source, the higher your property value."

The closer you got to Annie’s pussy, the more the power increased and its value became immeasurable.

I then lowered the feather and waved it ever so slowly back and forth in front of her face like a fan.  As Annie’s eyes moved from side, following its movement, her eyes lit up and widened like saucers, the corners of her sexy mouth turning up in a wry smile.  I wanted to drive her insane, take her to the edge of heaven and hell all in a matter of moments.  She knew I could do it too.  Her body softened beneath the delicate touch of the feather dancing across her cheek and down her neck. The feather skillfully guided by my hand as I skirted it across her skin and made her coil against the bed. Moving it lower to her breasts, the cool touch of the soft tip making her nipples harden even more so.

I concentrated my gaze to her breasts; she had beautiful pert mounds that I always found irresistible to touch.  Leaning close I flicked the tip of my long wet sexy tongue across one of her nipples. Instantly Annie whined softly and squirmed.  I had learned early on in our relationship how sensitive she was when her nipples were lavished with attention. She became very responsive to the slightest touch and I loved to tease her!

Swirling the tip of the feather across and under her breasts, taking each in turn, I knew Annie craved for more.  She wanted to ask for more…but at this stage she dare not speak.  She didn’t want the game to stop; and neither did I.  She bit her lip trying to resist asking for me to suck on her flesh, to purse my soft lips around her sensitive buds, those plump pink nipples and just suckle.  It was what she wanted right now, and I knew it…but I made her wait…just a little longer.  Didn’t some sadist say once,

“Good things come to those that wait”

Moving the feather lower, swirling invisible patterns against her abdomen with the feather tip as  Annie’s flesh rippled.  She tried to keep still, but the tickling made it very difficult.  I loved watching her squirm as she tried to remain motionless as I taunted her skin and smiled.  I rewarded her gallant attempt to obey me with a deep suck on her right protruding nipple, Annie gasping beneath my mouth.  I suckled gently; flipping my tongue across the tender flesh and I could feel Annie’s body tense beneath me.  I was becoming intensely aroused myself as I could feel the moisture growing rapidly between my thighs but I resisted touching myself and letting her touch me.  At this point, driving Annie to the edge of insanity by taunting would make my own climax so much more intense and enjoyable, as it would her own.

I lifted my face up and pulled my mouth away from her aching breast, releasing her throbbing, tingling nipple from my wanting lips, getting up off the bed and walking down to its foot.  Annie had playfully reached down and again pulled the silk sheets back up over her body to just under her neck with both hands.  I reached up and grabbed the sheets Annie was clutching, and gently, slowly pulled them back down her body, down over her abs, thighs, knees and feet, finally off the foot of the bed.  I wanted to get another good look at that amazing body I had admired for months.  Annie's skin glowed in the soft lamp light, creating shadows along her firm sinewy muscles. She lay there, completely naked, the beauty of her sending a flood of burning need through me.  She smelled wonderful and her scent only increased as I pulled the sheet down her body.  I loved her naked and raw, with just her own perfect odor satiating my senses.

I climbed up on the foot of bed and got to my knees, her feet just down between my legs, and I began to drag the feather ever so slowly along the inside of her right ankle, knee and then the inside of her right thigh as I crawled my way up along her sexy frame, moving like a predator cat on all fours.  I then ever so softly dragged the tip of the feather along her wet labia, the moving the soft feathers in a light brushing motion over her pussy, creating a scintillating touch that teased her in an excruciating caress.  I watched the feather dance across her mound, then down between her legs, across her labia and back down her inner thigh.  Her body trembled beneath me and I grinned wide as she writhed and moaned.

“OH GOD NO!!” Annie cursed through clenched teeth.

I reached up with my left hand and using my left thumb and forefinger I began to gently spread her outer lips apart as I let them traverse her wet labia up and down I then began twisting the feather between her outer lips, her body shuddering as she screamed out

"OHHHH, OH NO!! OH GOD!!! NOT THERE!”

I flicked the feather lightly over her clit. The sensation was unbearable – as I used the lightest touch, but not enough to bring her off too fast, not enough to get over the edge.  I wanted to push her so close to the edge but not over it.  The warmth of the soft pads of my fingertips against wet mushy folds of her skin caused Annie to continue moaning quietly.  I drew invisible lines up and down her thighs with my two fingers, and then fleetingly brushed my fingers across her sex.  Her wetness was becoming intoxicating to me. It gave me a high when I felt her creamy excitement. Some sort of depraved satisfaction enveloped me, knowing I could make her wet so easily.  My own excitement just skyrocketed when I pressed my fingers against her folds, making her wantonly moan.

“OHHH I'M BEGGING YOU! OHHHH I CAN'T STAND IT!"

she screamed as I tickled her opening, the feather teasing the wet, mushy soft folds of skin. Her arousal grew more and more intense and I was LOVING it, her thighs quivering, her chest heaving, her face flushed and contorted in both pleasure and agony.  RIGHT ON THE EDGE!! – And I intended to keep her there for as long as I could!!  Now who says Captain Michelle is a not giving girl?

As the end of the feather got wetter it became even more rigid and I was able to slide it deeper inside of her and over her clit easier, moving it back and forth over her swollen spasming nub.

The ends of my mouth curving up gently, my dark eyes widening as they meet Annie's.  Each of us now the object of a desire that has finally become too overwhelming for us to keep fighting any longer.  I tossed the feather to the side as a tingling sensation shot up along the curvature of my spine, goose bumps forming on my torso, shoulders, upper back and arms as I slide my own arms around her slender waist.  Staring.... mesmerized as we gazed into each other's eyes, Anne gazing in my face with those burning and languid eyes of hers, inching forward ever so slowly, my arms sliding more so around her waist as her arms draped around my neck.  Our wanting lips growing closer and closer, gasps of shallow warm breath flowing across our soft cheeks, our lips so close we can feel the warmth emanating from their fullness, their desire, God------the heat!  Yes-----the HEAT!!  Our hot lips beginning at first to travel over our soft cheeks, moving towards that inevitable contact.  Less 
than a 
millimeter away now from the longing lip-to-lip contact we so much desire, we ache for!  My arms wrapping around her, pulling her tighter to me and at the same time lifting her up a little.  Feeling our breasts begin to press tighter, enjoying the nipple-to-nipple contact, while our breathing made our aching breasts heave and swell even further.  Annie moaned and her glazed eyes closed for a second.  She opened them and then stared hotly down between us at our at our almost form-fitting curves, smiled sexily at me with a glowing face and her lower lip clenched between her teeth, our chests rocking ever so slightly together.  Our fleshy suppleness touching, our hard erect nipples tingling, almost straining for the touch they desire as we feel our bodies slowly lowering to my bed.

I slowly lay down on top of Anne's own body, letting her feel my weight as she stretched out her toned frame under mine.  I could feel every cleft, every curve, and every rippling muscle, which exposed me to a total, all-embracing, sweat dripping body massage that went right to my crotch.  I grabbed both of Anne’s wrists and pulled her arms up above her head and pinned them to the bed.  I then spread her legs wide with my own long legs, grape vining her and stretching her arms further over her head.  I moaned joyfully and let my groin slide hotly up and down between Annie's sweaty thighs causing our crotches to squeeze together rhythmically. Slowly I allowed myself to feel, to kiss the softness and the warmth of Anne’s lips.  My white-hot, wet wanting tongue sought entrance through her soft creamy moist lips and was not denied.  Both of us could feel the pain, the ache of desire that had stayed locked in the center of our beings for so long, slowly bubble over at the surface like a slowly erupting volcano.  We had each ached so long to feel the other and there was no stopping us now.

I leaned into her and parted my full lips, letting them barely open at first, then letting them gently dab at Annie’s a few times.  I then gently brushed over hers once more before slowly letting them settle over hers as my mouth began to cover those lips I have desired for so long.  I then begin to press against her lips with some light pressure at first as a soft moan flowed over my lips and then over her own as I began to inhale her very essence.  Feeling my chest expand against hers, then feeling my long wet sexy tongue slowly began to snake its way over my lips and between the creamy lusciousness of her mouth as our kiss started to deepen.  Letting my tongue playfully dab at hers a few times at first, then feeling it slide over hers, exploring it.  I then let my tongue begin wrapping around hers and start to wrestle with it.  Our tongues locked together in a lover’s embrace as we let them begin to thrash about on our mouths.   I let my mouth gently suck at her tongue...feeling it being pulled between my lips as my moans intensified as I let them squeeze her tongue, then release it a bit and then letting my lips clamp on it and suck it gently and slowly back between my wanting lips again.  Repeating this as I work at almost fucking her tongue, so almost wanting it to cum in my mouth.  Our lips press tighter still as the moans come from deep within us.  I finally let my lips soften their pressure against hers and I begin to release her oh so abused tongue.  My lips finally began to part a bit as I released our passionate kiss...

My stretched my tall frame out over hers as I pulled my face back, my body throbbing with desire. She laid there, a fine sheen covering her body, her breath still ragged and the pulse pounding in her throat.  Our eyes locked together in a longing gaze as she smiled and spoke softly

“Why Captain, if I had known you kissed like that I would have come to your cabin a lot sooner”

I titled my head and laughed at her words, leaning in and kissing the tip of her nose and whispering,

“Well, I could pull rank on you…BITCH”

Annie giggled and whispered back,

“Ooooooh!”   “I love it when you pull rank and ORDER me!”  “Can you break out that crop of yours?”  “You gonna put your leather on?”

I grinned evilly at her and said  "AND FOR MY NEXT TRICK…………"

I looked at Annie almost appraisingly, letting my tongue slide slowly over my upper lip as I arched my right eyebrow.  I grinned and arched my lower back as I let my crotch grind and twist against hers, feeling our warm wet juices begin to mix as our thighs begin to be coated with our essence.  Annie had one of the most beautiful bodies I had ever seen, with swelling up turned breasts, threatening to burst her tight shirt open, firm, shapely ass and long, strong, slender legs. My left arm had slid up under hers while my right arm had drifted down, my right hand covering her supple left breast, my long slender fingers almost kneading the firm flesh of that perfect breast, her aroused pink nipple teasing the flesh of my palm.  I let the hand slide down and move over the contours of her abs, my sensitive fingertips stopping on occasion and pressing into the firm muscles under the taut skin.  Her skin felt beautiful, warm and inviting, and I let my hands play further downward, caressing every inch.  My hand moving down still further as it glides down between her thighs, feeling the moisture content increasing as my fingers extend, searching.  My forefinger and index fingers gliding along the glistening sheen that covers the folds of skin, letting them spread them apart a bit as they glide along the sensual path.  

I bring my mouth down and let my face center itself over her left breast. I look up at her one more time and gave her a quick wink before I circle her nipple with my tongue, and then gave it a light flick.  Continuing to grind, I moved her mouth down to Annie’s left breast, my pursed lips gently blowing across her.  Annie’s breathing was becoming more and more labored and I knew she was close to climaxing.  I stopped all my movements, took one of Annie’s breasts in my mouth.... my lips riding up and down over Annie’s firm breast.... sliding up along her nipple before popping off of it...my lips then settling over the excited nipple again as I worked my way once again down the nipple and out along and down the sides of Anne's excited heaving breast.   Then with my right hand I plunged a finger into Annie’s soaking wet center and thrust her thumb against Anne’s clit.  Annie cried out in ecstasy.  I had expected Annie to climax as soon as I entered her, and was surprised that the she was still begging for more.  I added another finger and started to drive them in and out of Annie with a gentle yet ever increasing force...rhythmically forcing my long slender fingers deeper. 
"Michelle!!!"  Anne’s scream echoed in the room as she arched into the pressure that I was was applying...her body lurching again as the screams flowed over her dry parched lips as the orgasm flowing thru her again and again!!!

Her body convulsed against mine the waves completely overcoming her as I simply let go and fell crashing over the edge.  The explosion was blinding, a free fall of fire and pleasure rippling through her entire body.  Her hand had slide down between my thighs.  She felt her fingers play and tease the swollen flesh, glistening with my excitement only made her juices flow more.  Annie dipped her thumb into the entrance of my wetness, pushing firmly and slowly she swirled gently.  Annie intensified the game when she replaced her thumb with her long fingers, pressing them deep inside of me, teasing my walls, probing for that spot that would make me cry out.  It got the reaction she commanded and I arched her back and bucked against her touch, screaming her name out loudly as my orgasm shook me to my very core!!

“FUCK!!!...ANNIE!!!.... FUCK!!!”

We writhed and shook in each other’s arms, clutching each other tightly, the only sounds our rapid gasps of breath.

When her breathing settled and I felt her body relax slightly I began again.  I caressed her inner walls with my fingers, teasing her, feeling her muscles tighten around my digits as I explored, wanting her so badly again.  With my other hand now moved to rest on her mound, I brushed the soft pad of my thumb across her clitoris.  She was wet with the sweet nectar that oozed from her as I played.  Swapping my thumb for fingers, I gently pried open her folds to expose her ripe, juicy bud and suckle.  Annie twitched and writhed, the muscles in her thighs trembled and once again she felt the heightened pleasure start to build in her core. Panting hard and nearing orgasm, Annie was almost there. I could feel the tensing of her sex muscles until she finally gave in and released again, screaming and panting!

I stopped all my movements and removed my fingers slowly and gently from the warm center they’d nestled in.  I moved my face over Annie’s torso, lacing her flesh with a gentle kiss here and there on the way.  When I pressed my lips to hers she responded greedily, opening her mouth to his searching tongue.  She gave me a deep, branding kiss. It was firm and was what we both wanted and needed as I collapsed against Annie’s hot body and we nestled in to a warm embrace.

We woke a bit later, lying on our sides when she spoke

“Wow recess is almost over. We’ve gotta get you back to school, don’t we?”

I held her closer to be and gazed into her sexy eyes longingly and said,

"That was great Mom. Can you go make me some pancakes now ?"

She looked into my eyes and whispered,

“Do you think…If we never did anything we shouldn’t do, we wouldn’t feel good during the times that we did the things we should do…Right Captain?”

I laughed and leaned in and kissed her gently and whispered.

“"Annie….before sex, we help each other get naked and after sex you only dress yourself.  The moral of this story: In life, no one helps you after your FUCKED!”
                                                                                                                                                                                                          
The Southern Cross returned to sea on December 20. When the ship unfurled her sails and spread her wings it was not unlike an eager hawk set free.  If the winds were with us, there was no stopping her.  On the eighth, Captain Michelle noted in her journal: “Very squally disagreeable weather the past twenty four hours, with rain and a strong head sea.” The crew was set to knotting and splicing as the frigate stood on her tacks between Havana and Santiago, with no vessels in sight. For two days the horizon was strangely clear of any sails; but at midday on February 9, about five or six leagues northeast of the island of Nevis— Alexander Hamilton’s birthplace— the lookout hailed the deck to report that he could see a single ship in the south,  hull down and standing to westward.   The Southern Cross immediately hauled her wind and gave chase. Scrutinizing the stranger through her long glass, Captain Michelle could see that she was a very large ship, with a soaring pyramid of canvas. In her journal he noted: “I take her for a large ship of war, possibly French”

At half past twelve, just minutes after she was sighted, the stranger altered course, bringing the wind onto her quarter and standing to the northwest. She soon passed under the Southern Cross’s lee, at a distant of about five leagues. With aggressive maneuvering it was within Michelle’s power to bring her into action. She did not know what ship she was— she could be English or even French— but she was determined to close to signaling distance, if not closer.  Secretly she hoped it was French as she wasn’t ready for war with the English

Although Michelle did not yet know it, the chase was the French 64-gun frigate "L’Insurgente", the ship that had fired into and captured the American naval schooner Retaliation in November.  She was reputed to be one of the fastest ships in the French navy.  Rather than sailing for Europe as Michelle had been led to believe, she had sailed north into the Bahamas to hunt British merchantmen. Three weeks earlier, she had been chased by the American ship Constitution, but managed to escape.   If she had escaped the Constitution, she must indeed be something special.  Captain Michelle knew the Constitution well, and her Commander Isaac Brock.  He was in her eyes, next to Jack Aubrey, the best sailor on the seas

The L'Insurgente Captain, Michel-Pierre Barreaut, called for his glass, went aloft, and stood on the foretopsail yard to have a look at his pursuer. That she was a frigate, the Frenchman had no doubt. What he did not yet know was whether the pursuer was American, English or pirate. What he did know was he had an English ship in the harbor of  Peurto de Principe and possibly another enemy frigate outside the harbor.  He looked over to his lieutenant and said,

Barreault: “We have two catch-22 situations simultaneously. Is there even a name for that?”

Lieutenant: “How about a catch-44?”
Barreault: “And you made lieutenant with that bit of brilliance?” “Huh Einstein?”
Lieutenant: “If you can keep your head while those about you are losing theirs, have you considered becoming a guillotine operator?"

Barreault: “It looks like I'm eating everyone's shit. I'm like the last guy in a human centipede with this!”  “What’s French for WE’RE FUCKED?”

In any case, he had no intention of closing with her, and every intention of avoiding an engagement even if it required him to flee. The French were numerically inferior in the West Indies and their priority was to preserve what naval force they had on the station. A frigate could do more for France’s cause by destroying enemy commerce than by engaging an enemy man-of-war or worse yet, pirates.   He suspected this was the Southern Cross and he had concerns about taking her on based on what the ship had done to the Spanish frigate, the 74-gun Trinidad.

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5, PART 2

© 2014 by Michelle/Southern Cross Enterprises. All rights reserved

[Michelle]

"I laughed, I cried, I nearly pulled my male genital organ off,"- Dr. Stephen Maturin, FRS

Patrick O'Brien would be so proud. Fantastic writing. Hollywood callled - they want your number, Michelle.

//Braveheart

I'm in the book...I'll commute from San Francisco if need be...I'm just not a SoCal girl...LOL

Happily Maturin was a medical doctor and could implement some repairs...although in 1815 I doubt his reattached you-know-what would function to his satisfaction....medicine back then being what it was. 

[Michelle]

"I laughed, I cried, I nearly pulled my male genital organ off,"- Dr. Stephen Maturin, FRS

Patrick O'Brien would be so proud. Fantastic writing. Hollywood callled - they want your number, Michelle.

//Braveheart

For the uninitiated:

Stephen Maturin, FRS, /ˈmætʃʊərɪn/ is a fictional character in the "Aubrey–Maturin" series of novels by Patrick O'Brian. The series portrays his career as a physician, naturalist and spy in the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, and the long pursuit of his beloved Diana Villiers.

Maturin was played by Paul Bettany in the 2003 film "Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World" and by Richard Dillane in the BBC Radio 4 adaptations of the O'Brian novels.

n 1800 he travelled to Minorca with a patient who died there, leaving him penniless and stranded at the start of the series. A chance meeting with Jack Aubrey gains him the position of ship's surgeon aboard HMS Sophie, a fictional brig-rigged sloop-of-war whose silhouette & exploits are modeled after those of the HMS Speedy.

As a measured advocate of Catalan independence, and a resolute opponent of Bonaparte's tyranny, Maturin had become involved in intelligence gathering, and eventually becomes a renowned (to those in a position to know) secret agent, though he never accepts payment for his services.

As well as his activities as a physician and agent, Maturin is a celebrated naturalist (a member of the Royal Society) with a particular interest in birds, and the discoverer, on a remote and uninhabited island in the Indian Ocean, of the hitherto unknown species of giant tortoise Testudo aubreii.

He experiments with drugs, becoming an addict of laudanum (in The Letter of Marque he states his own "moderate dose" is "a thousand drops", when twenty-five drops is a usual dose for a man in pain; in Desolation Island it is implied that he daily takes eighteen thousand drops). After overcoming his opium addiction he switches to coca leaves, as well as khat and tobacco. He can play the piano and the flute in addition to his preferred instrument, the cello.