[ And that's how you know you've got 'em. He's usually trying to con someone--kind of a nice change, just conning them into listening to a pirate story.
So he tells her the story of Henry Avery, a first mate who lost out on six months' worth of pay while waiting around in Spain for ships to arrive and red tape to get sliced through--then got back at his stingy captain by committing mutiny. Sailing around Africa, waiting at the mouth of the Red Sea for the return of the Grand Mughal's treasure ship. Ganj-i-sawai, he says first, in as Boston an accent as they come, and then but the English called it the Gunsway. Attacking, taking the treasure--worth millions, more than you can imagine--running off, disappearing without a trace. He leaves out some of the finicky details of the fight with the Fateh Muhammed, some of the ugly stuff with the women traveling on the ships, keeps the story sleek and focused on the mysterious man of action at the heart of the tale. ]
No one knew what happened to Avery. Or his treasure. But there were stories, see, that he'd gone to Madagascar and made himself king of his own little island. They called it Libertalia--someplace they could be free, without the English breathing down their necks or the Mughals coming after their stolen treasure.
[ And now for the stinger to the whole story, delivered after he takes another sip of beer. ]
No one knew what happened...'til my brother'n I found Libertalia, anyway.
no subject
So he tells her the story of Henry Avery, a first mate who lost out on six months' worth of pay while waiting around in Spain for ships to arrive and red tape to get sliced through--then got back at his stingy captain by committing mutiny. Sailing around Africa, waiting at the mouth of the Red Sea for the return of the Grand Mughal's treasure ship. Ganj-i-sawai, he says first, in as Boston an accent as they come, and then but the English called it the Gunsway. Attacking, taking the treasure--worth millions, more than you can imagine--running off, disappearing without a trace. He leaves out some of the finicky details of the fight with the Fateh Muhammed, some of the ugly stuff with the women traveling on the ships, keeps the story sleek and focused on the mysterious man of action at the heart of the tale. ]
No one knew what happened to Avery. Or his treasure. But there were stories, see, that he'd gone to Madagascar and made himself king of his own little island. They called it Libertalia--someplace they could be free, without the English breathing down their necks or the Mughals coming after their stolen treasure.
[ And now for the stinger to the whole story, delivered after he takes another sip of beer. ]
No one knew what happened...'til my brother'n I found Libertalia, anyway.