The Incident


One fine afternoon, some Long Beach wharf-rats decided the time was right for an adventure.

"Let's go sailing!" said they.

So, they clambered aboard some Tall Ships which happened to be in port. "I've got the Swift of Ipswitch" cried one; "dibs on the Hawaiian Chieftan" said another. And in this fashion, they chose-up crews for their grand voyage.



Aboard the Lady Washington, hands were ordered aloft...



...with giant combs, and gallons of conditioner, to get the snarls and tangles out of the rigging.



A few comely wenches were persuaded aboard... make for a happy ship.



The party put to sea...



...but soon, the crews of the different ships became a little too competitive...



... cries of "kiss my poop-deck" and other crudities were exchanged.



Then, the inevitible happened. Somebody got an itchy trigger finger and...



B O O M !



P O W !



Z O T !



Captain! Captain! The cannons cannot take much more of this!






Take that, Pilgrim! You're deader'n a beaver hat!



We blowed 'em up real good! All I see is bubbles.



A few words for our dear departed comrades.



Then back to port, where the survivors took souvenir photos, and retired to the grog shoppe to tell their incredible story.


ryon at