Whatever.
Earthquake or no, I’m fishin’.
Good one Mr. Ellis! It be things loik ‘at whot set those who knows the sea from those whot not. Sea legs takes a whoil ‘fores they be land legs again. Enjoy it whilst ye can, after that ye need rum.
Bosda mate, sharpin yer tackle tills they scratches yer nail without force an’ brings us some snappers, red ones if ye be so lucky! I knows whot t do with’em an I’ll shows Angel Heart ‘ows ta cookem. Grouper be fine fair too but baracuda takes special testin it does. Ye see if the ants won’t eat it, it be poisin an wotch them that does eat to sees if they keels over. Many a dogs met the Dutchman and slept the briney deep fer not checkin first.
NoClueBoy sir! Been lookin t’other way an me starboard oye be to ye, was ye pointin at me fer goin ashores? I’ve a strong back, full pockets an’ a need t have me fake oye rounded out a bit. I’m growed fond of it an’ I’s not t be wontin’ t let it out o me sight.
Get yer smelly carcass down 'ere, then. 
We’ve got some …bargaining… to do with the locals.
Y’mean, Cap’n, fer us to behave like law-abidin’ civilized folk?
[Yosmete Sam]
That goes against mah principles – but okay.
[/YS]
Ah ain’t fishin’ fo’ no snappers nohow, tunabreath.
ah’m fishin’ fo’ sumptin else.
But, ah’m still fishin’.
[looks down]
Arrrr! Well hoist me Jolly Rodger, where be me pants?
WHO’S RUN OFF WITH ME PANTS?!!
[searches plunder from last raided ship, finds tartan kilt]
GRrrroowrf! Arrr! A bit tight, but it’ll have to do.
[puts on kilt]
[disembarks ship]
[sees dockhand pointing and laughing]
[rips dockhand’s arm off]
[arrives at tavern, tears down “No Pants No Service” sign]
[at the tavern]
Barkeep! Rum!
And some really bad eggs.
[looks around for familiar face]
Ah… thar she is. Men, you are about t’ be graced wit’ the priveladge of meet’n the most capable scrounger of all time.
Say 'allo to me Mum.
[yells above the din]
'Allo, Mum! Kill anymore 'usbands?!
[enters tavern]
Barkeep! Ale!
{Barkeep: “Would you like a half-pint or a pint, sir?”}
A keg of ale, ye mangy cur! Wha’ do I look like to ye, a hobbit?!
It’s tha’ or the Commodore’s “short drop, sudden stop” for ye. Ye can afford some shine fer now, men.
Ale? ALE? ALE! the loiks o’ wich floats to the top? Top fermented? Ye be a tough bastard Monstre.
Ge’me the bottle t’ the roight o’ th keg, that’s roight an’ don’ openit! ‘Tis for our fair Kalessa(captive pirate princess), me spots the fizzy wine in that I does.
Fer meself I’ll be haven whot t’ the left in the keg be, at’ one whot says “Keep away from all sources of heat or flame” and the skull n’ crossbones and ** RUM** on it’s soid. P’raps a lime an’ a coconut so’s oi can drinks it oll up.
Say, whot about whot them Spannish bringin back from west 'o ‘ere? Tekillsya they colls it! Gimme some o ‘at too. Up north when Oye be runnin wit ‘ol Teach froms the back woods they had this white clear fire made from somptin colled corn mazy or so. Have ye anny of it Ill have me two glasses o’that as well.
Shivers me timbers I only gots dubloons! HAHAHAHA! Thinks yer be ghettin some tip now does ye? Fate be cruel, I gots no gold fool, ‘eres a bunch o copper an’ be off wi’ ye! Ye’s many a thirsty soul ‘ere whot needs yer service so stares at me no more.
Wonderin’ I am what MR. Bosda be fishin for? Puffers? hehehehehe
Mother of NoClueBoy?
NoClueBoy? A bit o warnin’ in the future? We’s no oydea we’s be meetin yer family! I’d o polished me oye ‘fore leavin the Ted.
Ye tought yer son well ma’m an’ we oll be proud t’ serves wi’im.
(banging loudly on the bar I yell) Keep! O’er here! NOW!
We’s impotant people ‘ere whot need service an’ oye meens te be seeing this lady be gettin whot she need from the bar when she needs it!
Monstre? Pay the man.
Nope. Ah ain’t fishin’ fo’ no puffers.
But ah’m still fishin’.
Guess again.
Ah, yes… Me Mum.
The woman for The Ted is named.
Her name is Rebeckah. Don’t ask.
So, Mum, what have ye for your favorite pirate boy?
[mwap mwap mwahh. mwah mwahh.]
You don’t say? A map to a place that cannot be found?
[mwap mwah. mwah mwap mwap mwahhp.]
Yes! Of course we’ve got gol. And other things. Ye shall be paid well, as always. A pirate takes care of his own. Even the likes of you, O Mighty ted. 
[mwah mwap mwap mwahp mwah. heh heh heh…]
Yeah, that’s a Monstre. The one o’er thar is a Tuna. I don’t right know the name of that other fella…
[lunges with sword drwan]
Because it’s a woman in disguise!
[Holds point of sword at throat of sneaky girl]
Think quickly, speak slowly… What be ye doing?
Pilot tunabreath seems to’ve 'ad enough already. Keep an eye on 'im, men.
Mrs. NoClue, it be a joy to meet ye. I’ll have ye know yer son be a fine first mate. We thankee fer the map, ‘swell, ma’am. I’m sure First Mate NoClue not be meanin’ to pocket it ‘n’ keep it from 'is cap’n, eh, boy? ::jocular nudge to FMNC::
Anyways, men, I be off to see the blacksmith. Be sure all what came off the ship get back on.
Cap? We’s a problem ‘ere. First mate ate the worm in me tekillsya an’ 'es pokin a fork at a platter o orsters an yellin sumptin bout disguises, softness an girls. Lest e be miss aimin at me fair Kalessa iff’n that the case he’s a might bit off target, she be ‘oldin that fizzy wine.
An’ 'e tolt is mum I be a tuna.
Cap?! 'Es got 'is fork at the throats o orsters. Now Oy be 'at way as well but they not be talkin back an oy be not hailin 'em ta boot. Lest Mr NCB be 'splainin 'is’elf we’s in a tough spot!
Should we defend 'im 'gainst evil ortsers, or dip 'em ‘is peppers an’ sent 'em orsters south down our gullets?
Cap’n oy be farin well me oye focust and me feet squared. 'Hooze ‘e seein in diguise Oy asks. Me gets a few drinks and our’n own first officer gulpt em down an oy has t’ start over.
Monstre pay the man
A man fishes for fish, fer woman, fer gain. Gain ken be green or gold, drink smoke or power.
Whot be ye fishun fer Bosda. Wot be ye searchin?
Arrr…
Well now.
I’m glad we 'ad this chance to… talk… young miss.
Sorry 'bout yer dress.
Monstre! Pay the woman.
[Monstre tosses dubloon at her]
That should take care of it.
[turns back to Captain]
Cap’n Sir Ma’am! The map be a right good find, methinks. Especially considering what me Mum 'ere ‘ad t’ say ‘bout about these “escorted” convoys comin’ 'round lately.
Though the Ted be a fine ship, and Scuba Ben nary misses a shot, taklin’ more than four at a time kinda puts me off, if ye know whot I mean.
A plunderin’ of some already fought for loot seems like a welcome respite for the crew (and for us).
What say ye, Ma’am Sir?
Y’know, while I’m think’n ‘bout it… You ever watch Scuba in the heat of battle? Dancin’, prancin’, rhymin’…
Maybe we should find an 'erbalist whiilst we be 'ere in port. Get ‘im some medicines to counteract the lead poisonin’.
I would hate t’ lose the gunner to madness.
Shall I send for 'im?
Do what ye must, First Mate NoClue, I’ve to be on me way! Tha’ blacksmith won’ wait ferever.
Wha’ do oye look like to ye? Some kind o’ purse-totin’, ledger carryin’ treasury clerk? Oye be keepin’ me senses 'tuned te security matters!
[adjusts kilt]
[hoists keg back into the air, raising tap to monstre lips]
Wait… did ye say the clerk holds on te all the money?
Avast Bosda! Mind if oi joins ya fer some fishin’? Me cutlass don’t need sharpenin’ an’ whot since oi’ve got tha watch duty, oi can’t be goin’ ashore jus’ yet. Seems loike fishin’ might be just whot this swabbie needs fer passin’ the toime. A little comp’ny never hurt neither, eh lass?
squint’s closer
Ye arrr a lass, ain’t ye? Whot wit all the sea grime an’ such, 'tis right hard to tell wit some.