I’m Stede Bonnet, once known as the Gentleman Pirate. You see, me life was a comedy of errors and beginning in the posh drawing rooms of Barbados, ending with a noose and a last meal of bread pudding. And somewhere in between, I tried to be a pirate. It didn’t end well but by the sea gods, it was a doozy.
I was the son of a wealthy planter, a man made for gardens, not gunpowder. I had silks, servants and a parrot named George yet there I was, a pirate captain. How did it happen? Simple. I read a book.
See, in my youth, I devoured tales of derring-do by privateers, tales of pirate legends and the very romantic notion that piracy was freedom so I sold half my estate, bought a ship called the Revenge and declared, 'Avast! I seek fortune!'
My crew? A mix of disgruntled sailors, one guy named Black Dick who may or may not have been a spy, and George my parrot. My first raid? A merchant vessel, its captain so bewildered by my powdered wig and floral coat that he surrendered before I could wave a sword. I took the ship and renamed it The Flower of the Sea.
Now, I’ll admit I was no Blackbeard. The man had a beard like a tumbleweed hurricane and a crew that could pillage a village before the mayor could remember to panic while i meanwhile, once mistook cannon fire for a thunderstorm and ordered the crew to fetch the smelling salts.
But Blackbeard took pity on me. Or pity on himself for being stuck with me. One day, we crossed paths in the Carolina sounds, and the brute asked, “What’s yer business?” I replied, To steal treasures and terrify the masses. He roared with laughter and gave me the advice that I should go home.
I didn’t. Obviously. Because what pirate listens when told to go back to the life of leisure, tea, and polite conversation? But Blackbeard’s disdain stuck with me. If I couldn’t be a real pirate, I’d at least become a memorable one.
Alas, my crowning glory came in a most undignified form. In 1718, I commandeered the Sloop Industry, a snazzy little craft with the idea of raiding Spanish ships in the West Indies but the actual result was to get captured by the British and hanged along with me crew.
While I failed to amass gold, I succeeded in becoming a footnote in history books and a meme among sailors. Why? Because I was me. A man who wore silk shirts under armor, quoted Shakespeare before battles and once tried to ransom a captured ship by demanding a bottle of port and a decent dessert.
So, what’s the takeaway, ye landlubbers? Piracy isn’t for the faint of heart so Yarrr keep yer compass handy, yer spirits high, and aye, aye, matey.
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