Marauding In Mexico

I had no intention of traveling to Mexico to hang out with pirates. Cozumel was a popular hideout for pirates during the 17th century but this is the new millennium. Pirates are played out. So when I gazed at the Jean Lafitte floating slowly toward the Cozumel dock, I didn't know what to think.



Until I spied Pork Chop or Chuleta, as I liked to call him, in his Mexicana pink shirt, brandishing a sword. I knew I was in trouble.



El Capitain peered down from the ship's mast with a nefarious expression. He looked like he was sizing up people to loot.




El Capitain climbed further up the mast with Sparky, hovering over everyone and everything in the ship. My stomach dropped. Should I jump overboard? Hideout in the lower deck? Break out my silk scarf, fashion it into a pirate doo-rag and join them?



Then the whole motley crew descended upon us. They started going through purses, pulling off rings, hugging and kissing women and eyeing watches. El Capitain examined Laura's pearls but decided not to snatch them. He looked at my necklace but since it was only an abalone shell purchased from a local vendor, he left it alone as well.



Despite such thievery, I began to warm to these pirates. They sang. They told jokes. They looked really good in tight pants and eyeliner. Then they did something I've never seen pirates do. They danced. In rhythm. They performed a limbo dance, swiveled their hips to salsa and performed a rousing rendition of YMCA that let me know that indeed, these were my kind of pirates.



Risking their lives by leaving evidence, Pork chop and El Capitain posed for a photo with me. I told them that it was just for my personal memories, that I'd never show it to anyone. I lied.



With a melancholy spirit, I watched as as the Jean Lafitte sailed off into the brilliant Cozumel sunset. Afterwards, I caught a lot of flack for hanging out with pirates. But wouldn't you do the same thing if the pirates were this cool?