Bar Fight!
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Bar Fight!

Bar Fight!

Bar Fight!

Some things don’t change much and when it’s blowing like stink, sailors like to drink. Cook’s log shows that he boarded 3000 gallons of red wine at Madeira on his first voyage to the South Pacific.

Well, it’s blowing like stink and I thought that the crew could use some R&R. Port and Starboard seemed amenable and when I mentioned grog, Sir Salty McPartyPamts shot awake and flew at the spirits locker like there was a fire on board and only one life-jacket for the lot of us.

All seemed fine. Port and Starboard were showing off their knot thing skills and Sir Salty was doing his best not to look bored although his eyes were rolling at every hitch, bend, loop, constrictor, and strangler that he was treated to. I thought it safe to leave them to their devices while I went to check the deck.

Perhaps they were just waiting for me to leave as no some pretty had I slide the companionway hatch back an inch there came an awful screeching and howling from the salon..

Bar fight. Port and Starboard had set upon Sir Salty with a vengeance. I could barely get them apart. One eye roll too many I’ll wager.

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