Today’s post comes from the renegade skipper of the pirate ship Muskellunge, Captain Billy.
There ain’t many habits of livin’ on land that me an’ me boys wants t’ adopt. We likes th’ open air, an th’ wind in our faces. An’ we’s happy t’ say there ain’t no dogs or cats, no gettin’ woke up in th’ night by train whistles, th’ lack of streets, an cars, an’ consequently, no parking issues.
Th’ sea is wide an’ vast an’ deep an’ ya never has t’ worry that some careless slob is gonna put his Hummer in yer spot.
But lately we has seen that th’ dastardly billionaire Elon Musk an’ his henchmen are on a mission t’ figure out how t’ park their space rockets on a barge out in the ocean.
This notion is an insult t’ all seafarers everywhere.
Th’ ocean is th’ province of sailors an’ pirates an’ fish. Space folk is only able t’ use th’ ocean by crashin’ into it. That’s all they has ever been able to do. An’ what falls in th’ water is fair game fer anyone. Fair game! I won’t say that we on the Muskellunge has picked up a rocket or two in our time, but I won’t say we hasn’t, neither.
There’s a reason our vessel is th’ fastest pirate ship afloat. Piracy has it’s rewards, an’ a successful water landing would mean the end of free space junk! Th’ water is our turf, which is t’ say there ain’t no turf on th’ water, which is why there can be no water landings.
That term don’t even make sense. Water Landings? “Water” an’ “Land” is two completely different things.
Ye might as well wear life jackets t’ prevent Land Drownings!
An th’ universe agrees! Just one month ago Space X was s’posed t’ launch an’ land a rocket on their barge an’ it crashed instead supposedly ’cause there weren’t enough hydraulic fluid in th’ booster. Yesterday they was s’posed t’ finally make it work, but th’ mission got scrubbed on account of some radar that weren’t functionin’ fer unknown reasons.
Reasons unknown t’ most, but not to me an me boys! Ain’t that right boys?
Oh yes, make no mistake. We is determined – there will be no rockets landin’ on any barges at sea!
Yer determined skipper,
When has your turf been invaded?