The Tale of Tanth (As spoken by Tanth)

Y'see, 'eres the thing about the navy, it might be full of ponces in wigs an' posh little lads wi' Silver spoons comin' out their arses, but it's better than prison, ain't it? No offence to me fellow Captains o'course.

*Takes a large swig of rum*

Right then, where'd we start? Well, tbe beginnin' i spose is best. I were born in york me, son of a farmer. Closest i ever came t'sailin' were fallin' in't pond when i were a lad. Figures really, i mean, someone who calls their only lad "Tanth" has got ter be a BIT on the thick side ain't he? Well, that's farmers for ye. Anyhow, When i were about fifteen, i nicked a few apples from a neighbourin' estate. Well, obviously the posh buggers that lived there weren't none too pleased.

Few hours later, the old militia is bangin' on me dad's door like it's a silver piece wench on london dock! Obviously i ducked out o't back door an' did one. After a few days, i got ter thinkin'... i mean, couldn't go home, or i'd be workin' in some labour house t'pay off me debt to society... and that's the BEST scenario.

*Takes another large swig and lights a cigar*

So anyway, i hauled me arse down to London, along with every other scumbag an' scoundrel, an' signed up to the navy. Fer three bloody years i was a galley boy on the HMS York. Irony eh? I run away from york, and get put on the H bloody MS York! *spits*

Anyhow, first battle we were in, Captain got one in't neck. Was a sight i tell ye. Imagine it, pompous arse with his rapier posin' like he were doin' a portrait. Looked right dashin' he did, till that cannon ball gave him a haircut. Obviously, someone needed t'take command. Wi' the lads mannin' the cannons, an' the first mate sat belowdecks cryin' fer his ma, i stepped up. Wiped the grease off me apron an' started shoutin'. I never stopped shoutin, as it 'appens. We started t'turn't battle round, tilll the sly buggers got some sort o' steam powered plank think stuck in our decks. Hand t'hand fightin ain't pleasant, but luckily, scrappin' as a kid got me -kind of- ready fer it. I mean, beltin' someone with a stick is much the same as usin' a cutlass, just less messy.

So's they boarded, we kicked their scurvy backsides back off the ship an' sank em. On returnin' t'port, what 'appened? There's me, hero o' the hour, busted down t' Marine. I thought my heroics would have given me a captaincy at least!

*Takes a big swig, stubs his cigar out*

See, apparently i ain't "hofficer material" whater that is. Think it's somethin' t'do with talkin' like a magistrate an' not eatin' with yer fingers. So, that's how it went really. Same story all the way through me career, inchin' closer every time. Now at almost forty, i've got me captaincy. Got no hair, an' the greyest moustache this side o' father time's too though.

So, that's me, i talk like a pirate, swear like a deckhand, drink like a fish an' fight like a rabid dog in a corner. Funniest par tis, only think i reckon i'm NOT, is an "officer" In the british royal navy. Irony is, that's the only thing i AM.

So, now i'm posted t'this swelterin' frog encrusted, snake filled, mad native packed godawful place of a... er... place. Stuck with a gorup of er... well, proper "Officers" I spose. Well, There's few captains quicker'n me, i c'n get the best out o' me crew, an' that's about all that matters.

*Sighs* Shame the pay is so awfull

*chuckles ruefully, tossing his empty cup over his shoulder*

I Shoulda been a pirate.

Excellent Piratey punctuation! And a good tale of the seas!