arrr, what was that, landlubber? ye wish ta join my crew?
don't struggle so much. i know ye want ta wear yer own eyepatch. ye wish to be a salty bilge rat, sailin' fer weeks on months, privateerin' up n' down the west indies wit' yer captain and a fine group of buccaneers.
be a good sailor n' stop strugglin' so much. put on the hat. ye wi' be enemies of the Spaniards, the British, n' the French, n' that's just the empires ye be pillagin'. Most th' time, ye be doin' yer work on behalf of one crown or 'nother. strange bedfellows, but we be doin' what we can for a cut of fine booty.
scared of the tossin' and turnin' of the Osprey? Bah, We'll get ya yer sea legs, you salty dog. after a few days on the seven seas, ye will be rollin' along with the waves better then Ol' Davey.
yo ho ho, lass. we'll get'cha a parrot an' a pegleg soon enough. welcome to the crew, matey.
