Bare asses of the Isle of Sauvie!

That reminds me o' the year 1888, a blood-soaked Plunderathon that has been buried deep in the history books here in the Pirate Archives, unread by human eyes until I was promoted to Chief Historian and given ownership of the Strange Cat. While trying to entertain said Strange Cat long enough to chew through the ropes that bound me to the historian's desk, I started crumpling up balls of paper and throwing them across the room where the Strange Cat would bat them around and chase them like mice, I noticed that the paper I was throwing was invaluable artifacts from years gone past. I still crumpled them, of course, as Pirate Historians generally hate Pirate History as it means more work for us.

ANYWAY, 1888 was the year the militia tried to fend off the Pirate invasion by setting an ambush downstrem from Port-Land. The plan was fiendishly simple: set up an ambush party on the Isle of Sauvie and intercept the Pirate Fleet as they sailed up from the ocean. Since Pirates can sail past the island with great ease, the militia decided that the best way to slow the fleet down and give the coastal cannons more of a chance to blow holes in our ships was to distract us some how.

Weeks of planning went on. They considered offering free rum, but decided against it when they realized stolen rum is tastier than free rum, and stolen rum lies just a few miles upstream. They considered putting on a play, but Pirates shun high culture. Eventually, they realized that the one thing Pirates always stop to look at is naked people.

So the militia lined up dozens of citizens, who disrobed and awaited the fleet. Their plan would have worked, had We Pirates not decided at the last minute to sail in to Port-Land at night and attack at dawn. The beach was dark as the fleet passed, and only the glare of bare asses could be seen from the river.

The Plunderathon of 1888 was, as all Plunderathons have been, a raging success, and as the fleet sailed out the next day We Pirates were greeted by the now-sunburnt asses of a few dozen citizens and some now-empty cannon positions. We Pirates were duly impressed, and at the Plunderathon of 1889 We Pirates forced the mayor of Port-Land, at swordpoint, to sign a proclimation guaranteeing that all future summers shall be marked with dozens of bare asses on the Isle of Sauvie, a tradition that endures to this day.

So every time you see bare asses on the Isle of Sauvie, remember to thank Pirates. Or curse our names, whichever works.

-Dave The Horrible
Chief Historian and Owner of a Strange Cat.

more:

Pirates go underground!

Poop-flinging Monkey saves the day!

Where did our (current) historian come from?

Where is the Pirate Captain?

Flagship named in honor of Militia Commander?!?

Bare Asses of the Isle of Sauvie

Photos and blogs from the most recent Plunderathon!