Aarrr. Young mateys of the Midcoast prevail.

They set floor to gunnel, jib to sail, and proved their buoyancy.

Map consultations and lessons in offshore warfare followed.

Salty characters set camp, endeared the unsuspecting, and prepared their loot.

(Where we see the “X,” said the pirate, we bury the treasure.)

Time passed with swagger and song.

(Sing low, said the captain. So, the crew squatted down, singing in the same volume and tone.)

Trouble brewed in the harbor when innocent “ladies” on a vessel ripped their gowns, revealed their eye patches, and hoisted skull and bones.

People screamed. Cannons thundered (until the trigger ropes fell out). Young and old alike covered their ears. (Some of us simply left at that point.)

Laddies and Lassies rushed forth to defend (until their balloon swords popped).

Goodness won the day.

Corporate, friend, and shark-faced sailors regained shore.

People from far and yon gathered to hear tales of victory.

The party ended. The boats were replaced by pickup trucks. Families called it a weekend.

Or history.

Sarah Thompson can be reached at news@penbaypilot.com