Now, when it comes to yer types of individuals ya might hope t’ find stranded on a boat, ya can keep yer researchers an’ journalists on account of the fact that they is well known cheapskates. But a boatload of earnest, moneyed, climate-change tourists what can’t move is th’ sort of prize that gets our juices flown’. An’ by the time I joined the conversation, th’ boys had begun to draw up plans to retrofit th’ Muskellunge as an icebreaker, an t’ go chargin’ off in search of some of that frozen polar booty.

‘Twas up to me as Captain t’inject a note of reality into th’ discussion.

“Not t’ pour cold water on yer fine ideas,” I said, “but does any of ya realize that operatin’ comfortably at either one of th’ Earth’s poles requires loads of equipment an’ a level of hardiness that goes far beyond the jolly ‘Har, had, har …’ of yer typical tropical buccaneer?”

I told ’em about all th’ gear they’d need, including thermal skivvies, fleece scarves an’ ear muffs. A pirate is a rather vain creature, an’ none of ’em could picture hisself in such a get-up. When I said they’d have t’ wear all their clothing at th’ same time in order t’ stay comfortable fer this one adventure, an argument broke out about whether a pirate ever should reveal where his secret hiding place is located.

It was a half hour before I could convince ’em I said “layers” an not “lairs”.

I proceeded t’ inform them that human skin freezes in as little as ten minutes when exposed to temperatures in th’ thirty to forty below range. They was unimpressed. But then I told them they could get chilblains. Chilblains occurs when bare skin is exposed to cold water, or when wet flesh cools. As pirates, of course we is never far from water, so one would always have t’ consider it a risk. When a feller gets the chilblains, his skin itches and swells something’ terrible, an’ it can lead to gangrene!

That did the trick. Frostbite don’t sound so bad I guess, but chilblains …? Th’ word itself is too gruesome. They wants no part of it! Their plans t’ set sail fer th’ Antarctic was dropped that very same night an’ we re-committed ourselves t’ bein’ th’ best warm-weather pirates possible.

Let that be a lesson – ya can argue til yer blue in th’ face, but even turnin’ blue in th’ face won’t change minds. But if ya gives somethin’ a properly fearsome an’ somewhat appalling name, people will respect it, an’ learn t’ keep their distance!

Accordingly, t’ keep international law enforcement types away, we’s thinkin’ of re-namin’ the Muskellunge the Cancer Inferno!