The pirate scourge of Land’s End Marina

It was a beautiful summer day anchored in the Manatee River last summer. My pal Nat aboard his boat, the SNAP ONE a Morgan 50′, was anchored nearby.

While setting up my boat for the next few days of resting at anchor, I sent my small pirate flag up the starboard spreader. It was a simple skull and crossbones, very tasteful for an aging tired out pirate of the Gulf of Mexico.

Without hesitation, the skipper of the SNAP ONE  hoisted his pirate flag in response. Following procedures, his was up the flag halyard on the starboard spreader. I chuckled a bit as Nat’s pirate flag was quite intentionally one size bigger than mine.

I continued my chores on-board my boat and happened to run across another skull and crossbones in my flag locker. Interestingly enough, and by pure happenstance, it was a little larger than the one Nat hoisted. So, with prideful diligence, I ran that flag up the halyard.

Perhaps it was his dignity being questioned with a smaller less manly flag that boiled the blood of the challenged vessel. Maybe it was just Nat’s competitive nature bubbling forth. (He has never completely recovered from losing the great helicopter/airplane race to me some 15 years ago) Nevertheless, there he was, hoisting a larger flag up the main mast. Attempting to secure his short held victory, the code signal flags had come into use and his choice of words was not very pleasant…

Sheree, without prompting, tossed my code signal flags up on deck demanding that we shall be victorious!

I had run up my best flags, called Nat colorful names in reply with the code flags, and had all my pirate flags flying proudly.

Alas, Nat managed to hoist several more, and larger, flags. I was being heckled across the bay. I could see his smug grin through my Nikon 12X50 binoculars.

I felt defeated. A grey cloud had formed over my boat…

Later that evening as Nat was rubbing his victory in my face was when Ellen (wife and boat Admiral) had told me how happy she was that I had ran out of flags.

“Why would you be happy I lost,” I queered.

“Nat was pulling off the bed sheet, he was going to draw a skull and crossbones on it and run it up the mast if you had any more flags left.” Ellen seemed relieved. “I didn’t want to sleep on a sheet-less bed tonight.”

So then, as with all things, time slipped by.

One day we had received a package in the mail from Nat and Ellen. Inside was plain white flag for me to signal my surrender with…

Enraged, Sheree was shaking the white flag at me. “You’re not going to fly this, are you?”

Time once again passes. Work schedules, dates, places, UPS delivery, the planets… everything must be in correct alignment which would subsequently lead to my ultimate victory.

I tied up in Nat’s marina yesterday evening. We enjoyed several cocktails at the Tiki Bar knowing what would transpire in the morning. My loss would be turned into victory. Harrr me matey, harrr!

With Nat presently sailing aboard another vessel in the Bahamas, this flag would proudly fly for the next several weeks awaiting Nat’s return. Take a look at the top picture; double click it for a close up view. This is what everyone will get to look at from the Tiki Bar for the next few weeks. Nat’s happy pirate boat… he-he-he-he—

Colorful victory is smiling down at me…

Filed Under: Scuttlebutt

Tags: adventure • Nat • travel