Ahoy, ye scurvy sea-dogs! It be SeptembARrrrr nineteenth twenty hund an fourteen! That makes it international speak like a scurvy pirate day!
Lower the sails, raise th' anchor, scrub th' deck and prep' the cannons, ye filthy bilge rats!
A bottle o' rum and a piece o' eight for every landlubber that join the crew under the jolly roger!
There be galleons and booty awaitin'!
