What we’re looking for: the X that marks the real spot.

Hot tip aka. clue: See our video on Knot Tying.

Some Things You Should Know About Captain Rick

Kid comes in looking for eye patches. Mom points to eye patches. Kid responds, “No. Those aren’t eye patches. Those are tiny pirate hats.”

How’s your ghost doing?


Are you ready for Friday? Talk Like a Pirate Day is here and we’re giving tutorials at the Pirate Store during Happy Reading Hour from 6-8pm


By Probably-Cursed Philip

We’ve got this counter below deck for every time our boatswain Mickey think’s he’s seen a ghost, a specter, a phantasm, or some such thing. It’s quite nicely made, especially for a placard that we carved when we were bored, but I’ve always thought it needed more “5” cards because they seem to keep disappearing.

It had been some time since he’d claimed to encounter such a thing “while in a wistful moment of low spirits and standing on deck to contemplate the stars,” as his stories nearly always start. But ever since we ran aground at Baffin Island, he’s been hanging out with poltergeists constantly, and he never eats with the rest of the crew anymore. It’s really starting to affect moral. Sure we had a few, deep belly laughs when we got to bump up the numbers on the “Mickey’s Banshee Extravaganza” counter, but it started to lose its charm when we ran out of fives. Seriously, what happened to the fives?

I did actually get a chance to talk to him this morning, though. He said that most of the ghosts think we should all get out of here because this island is practically in the Artics and it’s only getting colder, but we shouldn’t worry about him because one of the ghosts had an extra pair of socks. And that he’d get back to us next month. May fortune favor your boldness in the face of the paranormal, Mickey, Bravest of Boatswains.


I thought a ghost had started inhabiting our offices here at 826…come by and let us know what you think!


By Gray Bones Mary

Every day we walk a balancing act between progress and tradition in this line of work. Sometimes, though, you need to take a stand for what makes the most sense and do away with old practices that are getting in the way. I know for a fact that knots are a place where we could all stand to clean house. Or clean ship. I actually did sale on a house once and it was a deeply enriching experience.

No matter what you might be sailing on, you have to hear me out guys; some of these knots simply must go. The Half-Divine Trident Knot, for instance, is prone to jamming, and usually elicits a C&D letter from Poseidon on the grounds of intellectual property theft. I thought we were plundering for personal wealth and glory, not constant legal fees. Similarly, I would be thoroughly pleased if I never had to tie a Bronzed Zeppelin Hitch because, I’ll be honest, it just reminds me of having to socialize with smug air ship captains at port towns. It also gets soggy really fast.

I’m not saying we need to throw  the doubloons out with the cursed strongbox, but it is time to be honest about what’s getting in the way of a successful voyage. Yes there’s a poetry to the loops of a Wayman’s Grief Knot, or the artful bends of a Wayman’s Emotional Healing Knot, but their usefulness has passed. Unless the reason we keep these old knots around is because if we don’t, the ghosts of their original inventors will haunt us all. Nobody’s told me if that’s what’s actually going on, but it seems likely.



Sounds like Mary is onto some new design philosophy for her knots. Frank Lloyd Wright would be so proud! Come develop your own knots at 826 Valencia!


By Black Dreggs Carlos

So Boris is one of our regular hook polishers. He came in the other day and told me that a water nymph came to him in a dream and informs him that the doldrums don’t actually have anything to do with the currents of trade winds, but rather a series of Newtonian airborne gravity wells that grow or shrink in size depending on what the moon had for dinner the previous night. Now I didn’t buy this at first, but then I saw the moon eat three deep-dish pizzas by itself that night, and I mean that’s normal enough right? It’s the moon, it’s bigger than us and it gets hungry, you know? But then I definitely felt the ship slow down the next day, so you tell me. Although, that might have just been the fact that we played Risk that night, which my eyes glaze  over during that game and life itself seems to drag along at a crawl. And the skipper always fudges his dice rolls and thinks I don’t notice. I do, Gregory. I do.

Anyway, Boris comes back a few days later and says he found a water nymph that looked a lot like the one from his dream hanging out with some friends off the coast of the Galapagos. She said she had no idea what he was talking about, but she did say they had gotten sushi with the moon recently and while the sea water did feel heavier afterwards, they needed to run some more tests to be sure. You should run some tests of your own as well, and if all else fails, try singing to the moon. Do your best to remind it of 90’s R&B, that’s its favorite kind of music. Or buy some nice new book-ends for it. The moon just want’s to feel appreciated at the end of the day. I’ve already scheduled a symposium with Boris and I’m excited for him to share his findings, while my own proposal to permanently replace Risk with “Guess That Wound Infection” for games night will go over splendidly.



Sounds like a wicked fun time singing to the moon! Come join the party at 826 Valencia!


By Hornigold Abigail

The local schooner Good Ship Gilded Libertine entered West Port Crustacea Club’s Hull-Grown Barnacle Show with less than high hopes. You would too if your ship had a paltry average of five barnacles per square-inch.

The competition judges, however, were delighted with both the overall health of the ship’s barnacles in addition to what they described as the Libertine’s “artfully minimalist arrangement that must have taken years to cultivate so deliberately”. When Libertine’s Captain was awarded the 1st place prize of a map detailing the locations of hidden riches in no less than ten places south of the equator, he exclaimed “So help me, I will see this ship actually gilded from stern to prow by voyage’s end!”

Shortly thereafter, the first mate took me aside and assured me that “this is long overdue because it is frankly embarrassing to be sailing on a vessel that doesn’t live up to its name. I’ve even got a large store of used whale blubber that would be perfect for setting all the gold in place.” You might not believe this, but that is actually a pretty sensible way to stick stuff on to wood. A lot more sensible than asking a bunch of lobsters to clamp it on there. Lobsters aren’t good at decorating.  Its best to just invite them over after you’ve got the ship settled and they’ll remark how wonderful of a job you’ve done and that’s always nice to hear.



Whale blubber? I wonder if the same is true of our lard we have in store…I have some repairs to do. Come on down and check out our blubber at 826 Valencia!