A NOTE FROM THE PUBLISHER
Dear Reader,
Some time ago, a visitor named Rufus Sherwood came into my office unannounced. He explained that he was a fisherman off the coast of Maine and that he had recently experienced a rather peculiar encounter with a bird unlike any he had ever seen. According to Mr. Sherwood's account, this giant bird swooped down upon his vessel and delivered the logbook of a pirate captain. Mr. Sherwood placed this logbook on my desk while entreating me to consider it for publication. I agreed to read through the material at my earliest convenience, then politely asked him to leave. In addition to the aforementioned material, Mr. Sherwood also left behind the rancid scent of cod, which took me the better part of a month to expunge from my high-back leather chair.
More to the point, what I discovered was precisely what you will soon see for yourself: a masterpiece. And how marvelous it is that thishow shall I say?free-spirited adventurer is able to have someone with him for the entire breadth of the journey, hanging on to every derring-do detail. You might ask yourself, how does a cold-blooded pirate become an author? Well, my good reader, you will soon find out .
I assure you that we have made every possible effort to accurately reproduce Mr. Redbeard's work. You should also know that I am taking great care in preserving the original scrapbook and have placed it in a secure vault at a secret location.
It has given me great pleasure to discover this story, and it gives me greater pleasure to introduce it to you. I hope you enjoy the journey every bit as much as I did.
Sincerely,
Maxwell Dormpier III
Executive Publisher
Ahoy, Li'l Whisker,
Being a pirate, I've had me share of adventure and heard many a tall tale. But what I'm pulling ye into be more thrilling than any lit keg o' gunpowder I ever had the chance to leap away from. And I must warn ye, me story has more surprises than the Indian Ocean battered by the fists of a typhoon. Go ahead and ask yer grandpappy to tell ye about the Odyssey with its one-eyed Cyclops, or King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake, or Jack and his beanstalk. But none will be shedding any light on the greatest adventure of 'em all. This here is me very own legend, and the reason it's greater than all the others is very simple: me friend, this story is real. From time to time thar might be parts that are hard to believe, and thar might even be a few turns o' the page where things seem like downright scuttlebutt. But ye have me golden word, every last bit is true. Put on yer sea legs, matey. Stick close to me wordsye wouldn't want to miss a single moment of the journey.
Legends are slippery as eels. Just when ye think ye've a solid grip on 'em, yer shocked at thar knack for slithering out of reach. Now, nobody's too sure when this here legend got its start, but I can tell it to ye straight. This is where the tale caught up with me and tangled me in its wonderful world. And as any swashbuckler will tell ye, an adventure is best when ye don't have it all to yer lonesome self. Lucky for me, I found a very trusty friend along the way.
It's at sea, o' course, that me story starts, in a patch of ocean that sailors call the Bed of Argus. Me crew and I had just fired two warning shots across the bow of a little red cargo ship. Down her deck, me mates lowered the gangplank and rushed aboard. First Mate McGee twirled a length of rope overhead and introduced our identity to the ship's cowering sailors. We're Cap'n Redbeard's rapscallions! Once again we've caught up with our reputationthe pleasure's yers but the treasure's ours! His arm swooped forward, then snapped back, lacing a few o' the crew in his lasso.
One of the tangled men proved himself to be quite bright. He cupped his trembling hands to the sides of an unruly mustache and called out to the others, It's no use, me mates! The Picaroon's blind to all but victory. Thar be no true shame to our surrender.
McGee emptied the buggers' pockets 'n' pouches of the few coins they had to offer. I stepped aboard to make certain any survivors had plenty to warn thar seafaring kin about.
Not a single gold bar, emerald or ruby was uncovered, though the ship did have barrels 'n' crates. We reckoned they just might be holding some treasure, so we nabbed 'em to be on the safe side.
To the tune of clanking swords and whizzing bullets, me and Boggs the Cabin Boy made our way up the cargo ship's mast. I scurried up the pole and turned to look down at the fighting below. Right away I saw the ship's captain sneaking up on one of me most loyal mates, Porthole Pete. In a flash I reached into me coat and pulled out the weapon that helped make me the most feared pirate ever to sail the seven seas (or any sea, for that matter). It weren't no pistol clenched in me fist . It was a paintbrush. Porthole Pete could fend for himself; I was busy making me attack on the ship. When I looked down once more, I saw that, as usual, Boggs was having a hard time reaching the top of the mast. Climbing with a bucket o' paint in each hand was a task he hadn't quite mastered. I was worried that by the time he got up, thar'd be less paint in the pails than thar was on him.
As soon as he caught up with me, I dipped me trusty brush into the black paint and began me infamous assault across the ship's sail. As was me custom, I quickly sketched me own portrait, finishing up with fire red paint for me eyes. Then I went back to the black and put the letters FI under me drawing.
Over the years, many a seagoer has misunderstood me sail painting. They thought the letters FI were the initials of Ferdinand Igneominiousa name I had escaped long ago. As a lad I could never spell me own name. I had a highwayman scrawl it 'cross the palm o' me hand in case I was put on the spot. No, matey, I wasn't born with the great pirate name Redbeard. It is a name I earned. Of course, I would have liked to be called Blackbeard; it only makes sense. Me beard is black, not red. Alas, I couldn't claim the name Blackbeard, for some two-bit stowaway had already taken it. But I got back at him. We all know which name history will remember best.