I brought the life of exile and loose teeth upon myself, but wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China. In fact, I took four tonnes of Chinese tea out of a ship three months ago. Actually, that was a funny story. We could not get the poor Chinese merchants to understand that we were attempting to rob them. We resorted to obscene gestures, and they merely smiled and nodded. The only way that we could get them to understand that we were not good guys was to throw one of their crew members overboard. They then got the point, and we proceeded to search the ship for any valuables. Again, the language gap was a problem, and when we demanded to know where they kept all of their treasure, they had no idea what we were talking about. So we threw another one overboard. They showed us their cargo bay, which held about a dozen tonnes of tea. We were mortified. We had nearly drowned two Chinese merchants, and wasted a lot of time, all for tea. I pretended that this was the plunder that we wanted, and very gruffly hauled away a third of it. There was a period of time in which all that I and my underlings ate and drank was tea and salt biscuits, morning, noon and night. I felt like a pansy.

After that, the number of raids dramatically decreased, and my crew and I had become restless and bored. That day, I felt all might change. I could feel it in my bones. The seaspray in my face smelled terrible, and that could only mean one thing: British ships had passed that way. I leapt down from my seat on the prow, and barely caught my balance before I ran the ninety feet to the cabin door. I swung it open, and my sudden appearance made the two midshipmen sitting there, idly playing cards, jump. I know that I don't usually look very pleasing to the eye, with my damp, lank hair hanging in my face, dirty clothes, and several scars on my arms and hands. My teeth, however, are marvels. They may not be pretty, but they are all there. I can understand why I startle my crewmembers, and it gives me a sick sort of pleasure.

I laughed and threw some of customary insults at them, while they quickly tried to look busy. "You lousy sea-sloths," I roared, "we may be running abreast some British vessels today, so look lively. Hanover! I need you on deck. On second thought, seeing your ugly face will do me no good. Fersson, you come instead." I kicked Fersson in the rear as he scurried out the door, then I turned back to the others, who were standing at attention. I strolled over behind one man, Bithers, and calmly took an ace out of his sleeve and laid it on the table. I cackled then, and shouted over my shoulder, "As you were, gentlemen!" as I ran after Fersson.

I found Fersson standing on the deck. I shouted up to the man on the crowsnest, and he shook his head and shrugged. "If you don't see any British ships today, you will get no supper!" I snarled to both him and Fersson, then stomped into my quarters, effectively ending my watch. I needed to regain my energy if I was going to be raiding ships, as I was sure I would be.

I stayed in my room for hours. There was nothing. It got dark out, and there was not a sight of anything on the deck more conspicuous than a porpoise. I went to sleep, denying myself the same supper that I would not allow my lookout or Fersson. The next morning, however, my conscience got the better of me, and I allowed the two second helpings at breakfast. People often told me that a pirate with a conscience is not a pirate. These people are now all dead. I may be a little ethical, but that doesn't mean I have a lot of patience for criticism.

I sat in my quarters, sharpening my bejeweled puņal. The puņal was one of my earliest trophies. It was missing a gem or two, and the empty settings were ugly. But the Spanish transport crew I had stolen it from called it a hoja aguda, and it had proven its worth on several occasions. My door swung open, and I spun around to point the puņal at my visitor. "KNOCK, FOOL!" I shouted furiously.

Victor "Lemony" Jinkins, my first mate, froze solid. Then he thawed and said excitedly, "We found your Brits! Three ships are on the horizon. What should we do now?"

My anger forgotten, I ran with Lemony to the deck. Fersson handed my a spyglass when I had arrived, and I peered at the vessels. Big they were, and not just trading tubs, either. They were British warships, outfitted with banner and cannon. But what were they doing on the Ivory Coast? "Don't let them out of our sight," I said to my navigator, "But at the same time, don't let them get too close." It turned out that the distance between their ships and mine wasn't up to me. They were stalking us.

Chapter the Second

Of course, the Scimitar isn't this big, but I can always dream. That's me, third from the left. Ignore the giant arm in the background.