Fair winds, landlubbers! Tis Mother Cutbeard here.

We have taken some respite from our daily toil of plundering Spanish treasure-ships and dispatching malefactors, because we have been preparing for a wedding. Yes indeed, our young Calico Cat, as skilled in healing herbs as she be in the use of the cutlass, has chosen a pirate to make her own.

We put into Weymouth, so that Cat and her intended, Martin, could plight their troth before the magistrate as well as by the laws of the sea.

Of course, it is dangerous business, if you be a pirate, which we are, to come face to face with a magistrate. So Cat and her betrothed have been living among the populace, in disguise as a pair of honest young citizens, for a number of months. We have been at sea, but on receipt of Cat’s signal, at dead of night, we put ashore, though we stayed on board till daybreak.

Naturally none of us, not the Captain, not Mistress Page, not Jamaica Jill or myself , and certainly not the Silent Sinner, who has sold his soul to the Evil One (or so ’tis said) but who still insists on a clean white shirt every day, dare to show our faces to a magistrate, so Cat and her Martin went without our help to make their union legal. Then the real wedding feast began.

We played, danced and skylarked till the midnight hour. We even paid the landlord for our drink – well, for some of it. And assured him that our pistols were a mere courtesy detail. As children and small animals were present, you understand.

Twas hard to say farewell to Cat and her husband at the end of the day, but we whall be sailing with her again, once their honeymoon be over.

We shall be pirating again next month, so in the meantime we wish our Cat and her sweetheart a fair wind and a pleasant honeymoon. We hope to welcome them both back on board just as soon as they crave more company and fresh adventures.