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Ahoy mateys, sit while I tell ye a yarn. And blimey, ev’ry word the truth.

Arrr, to be trapped in a land locked port isn’t good but know’n theres treasure somewhere close helps ease de pain. It’d been storm’n lately, and me fig’red find’n the mystical riches of end’ophn may be easier.  After fueling up on some grog, I left me roost to look.

The storm’s did blow over, with nary a wind remain’n, as I went. The cloud’s looked tame, and there would be no squalls for a while.

Down dar road, up and down hills that remind’d me of a mid sum’r storm in the south. They were roll’n, and hardly would ya crest one than an’other would appear. Arrr, but wit my peg draggin, I made it over each.  Not pleasant, but better than being keelhauled.  I was goin’ so slow, a young lass could take me. (Not that I be complain’n if one did.)

Event’ully, I circled round the area, cover’n ‘bout 2 and a half nautical miles. I didn’t find the full chest o’ treasure, but a few nuggets did fill me pockets. Enough to make de trip worthwh’le.

Now, off to get loaded to the gunwales and drown me talk with more grog.

(Happy talk like a pirate day.)

Written on September 19, 2009