Dueling Pirates
PIRATES FOR SAIL IN BALTIMORE The basics: A two-hour jaunt with pirates and a cash bar. What you see: Inner Harbor and Fort McHenry, sans narration. Arrr factor: Easy to avoid. Bottom line: Even if you hate pirates, it's a pleasant way to get out on the water.
(John Deiner)
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BALTIMORE
They fire guns! They quell mutinies! They bury treasure! They do parties!
Yes, for a price, Pirates for Sail, a band of scalawags who consider a tricorn a must accessory, will entertain your podmates at the next office shindig. But if you want to see them on the high seas, or at least in the placid confines of the Inner Harbor, you can hop on the Clipper City, a 158-foot schooner that also hosts brunches, reggae parties and happy hours.
"This ship is a beauty," said Tim "Last Mate" Michau, dripping with sweat Saturday as he stood in his pirate duds. "But sometimes I wish we'd commandeer that vessel." Nearby, an air-conditioned sightseeing boat bobbed at a pier, a dozen tourists peering over the top deck.
Once the ship was underway, however, the oppressive air was replaced by a stiff breeze and some bawdy repartee. The ship can hold about 140 guests; about half that number boarded last weekend, with adults outnumbering children. After starting the cruise with shots fired from the bow, a swaggering septet launched into two hours of buccaneer shtick.
You either dig adults dressed like Errol Flynn singing ditties, sipping who-knows-what from tankards and saying "ye" and "ahoy" a lot . . . or you don't. If you're in the latter group, the Clipper City has a raised aft deck to escape the spirited mayhem (except when the perpetrators are on smoke breaks, that is). Most of the action is on the main deck, mercifully protected from the sun by a canopy.
The younger sailors were asked (prodded, actually) to join the troupe, and much of the entertainment was geared toward them. It culminated in a treasure hunt that yielded "bags of plunder" containing cheap trinkets such as plastic compasses. Still, the subject of the songs and banter frequently shifted toward more adult-oriented fare, with booze being a particular favorite. (Some kids, for instance, clapped happily along to one tune extolling the virtues of alcohol and tobacco.)
Hey, whaddya expect ? They're pirates.
By the time the ship reached Fort McHenry, the pirates had gleefully lost control of the ship to the eye-patched kids, who were racing around half-blind with plastic swords raised. Moms and dads seemed pleasantly lubricated from the cash bar and its $4 Coronas.
The Clipper City's return to port called for more gunfire, with the pirates bemoaning the fact that they once had a cannon to shoot.
So what happened? Seems it was stolen.
-- John Deiner
