Plans are known to fall apart because some unplanned items cludge the entire work. I had a friend who took this to heart and decided to live a disorderly life, just like a pirate! After this declaration, I just had to step in.
A Pirate’s life was not anarchic, I explained. There was lots of planning involved; You had to know where and when the goods would be, how to offload them to convenient, safe storage until they could be sold, and you needed a good “fence” to sell them for you. After that, you needed a safe place to get down and boogie – like Port Royal ( before it sunk). Where you went had to be an inspired, and unwholesome equivalent of an 18th century Disneyland, friendly towards scallawags, reprobates, criminals, and neerdowells.
In short, a lot of planning went into being a successful pirate. But I maintained there remained good reasons why strict plans did not work, including word getting out to 18th-century law enforcement that you planned to be right off Cape Hatterous on the 30th of July.
My friend looked a bit murderous, upset, and peeved at this point. “How the hell do you know so much about this?” “Well,” I explained, “there was the ancestor who sailed with Henry Morgan to sack Panama.” I thought further, ” Then Captain Grey, another ancestor, hung for piracy. But they were not pirates! They were Privateers, Gentlemen of Fortune! Holders of certificates of marque and reprisal from the Crown. Not Pirates!!!” He sneered, “Pirates!”
The evening did not end well, and I am sorry that Brad is no longer a friend. I overstepped the boundaries of being a good host when I pulled my ancestor’s cutlass, threatened to maroon him, and gave him the black spot.
Arrr, good mates be hard to find.”