The quiddling pirates.(Story)

Alas, the quiddling pirates and the pretty pranks they played, Have all been put a stop to by the naughty Board of Trade. The skippers and their merry crew have long been laid to rest, A little south of Sunset, in the Islands of the Blest ...

--John Masefield

The Capricorn Corsair drove through the smooth harbour water before the steady easterly that flowed seaward on summer nights. Ahead, the swelling sails of the high purple-and-gold galleon-clouds of sunset were fading in the west.

Harry eased the jib as they cleared the moles. Toby Bowen pushed the tiller slightly with his fingertips and eased out the main. They headed towards the distant lights of the island. Sunset faded and the mainland lights fell away, surges of phosphorescence began to show.

"Well, here's to adventure!"

"Aye, break out the rum, shipmate."

"She's hogging a little," said Toby. "Come aft a couple of feet."