For those new to Portland-area Piracy, it all began back with the founding of Portland in 1843 when two people, a drifter from Tennessee and a lawyer from Massachusetts beached their canoes on the banks of the Willamette River (they originally were trying to get to Tecumseh, Illinois, but took a wrong turn at Albuquerque). Official history says the drifter lacked the 25 cents needed to file a land claim, so he split the city 50/50 with the lawyer in exchange for the cash (in today’s dollars, this equals $6,812.30, or 604,587.30 Euros). Later, the official history states the drifter sold out to a man from Maine.

This is all poppycock, as We Pirates have always known. What really happened is that the drifter was actually an undercover Pirate from Barbados, who was searching for a new place to make berth for his fleet of ships (his fleet was under the command of the fierce Commodore L. D. Silver, later immortalized in the fetish movie industry by the descendants of his first Pirate crew). The drifter did not sell his half of the city, he was cheated out of it by the lawyer, and thus all future Portland law offices were targets of Pirate raids (until the Great Appeasement of 1853, when several Portland lawyers, led by James L. Golgafrincham III, Esq. offered We Pirates a large sum of money in exchange for a cessation of hostilities and wedgies. We Pirates met with them on a Tuesday afternoon, shot all the lawyers and then went out for Thai food and a nice canon fight).

The drifter, also known as “Jockstrap Johnny,” made his way to the coast where he was to signal We Pirates with a series of lanterns when the town was ripe for the plundering. The instructions were inscribed on the inside of his boots by Commodore Silver, but Jockstrap Johnny was illiterate (actually, Jockstrap could read and write Esperanto, but since he only spoke English this skill was next to useless). Thus, Jockstrap got the signals wrong, and our fleet ran aground near John’s landing, which is not named for Jockstrap John, but for his great-great grandnephew, "John ‘Sharkbait Asshole Traitor’ Franklin," whose claim to fame was being the first Pirate to attempt to warn Portlanders of the upcoming raid. He was unsuccessful in his attempt to sell out his brethren in exchange for enough money to spend a solid week in a brothel, and was found dead of advanced herpeghonosyphilads in an unlicensed brothel/petting zoo three days before the raid of 1883.

These fierce Pirates were never known for wussing out over little things like beached ships or palimony suits, so we did what any self-respecting scalawags would do; we got out of the boats, slapped wheels on them, and raided the town anyway, pushing the ships through the streets and sidewalks of the fair city.

We managed to make off with a lot of booty, and some treasure too. Rum, gold coins and bejeweled trinkets were just the start; we also managed to abscond with the original city charter (which, among other things, was firmly worded in such a way that it would have forever been illegal to build a Home Depot on the west bank of the river. Scholars in the secret Pirate headquarters have been trying to unravel the mystery for generations, and have concluded that it was either a time traveling anomaly that named Home Depot 150 years before its inception, or the product of “really stoned founding fathers that got lucky with the wording." The charter also mandated "Free Beer Tuesdays" every week in Pioneer Courthouse Square, and stated that the only official duty of the mayor was to "blow the horn of cheese"). We Pirates were also accused of making off with then-Mayor D. Diggler’s twin daughters, but in reality the twins filched a mid-sized Pirate vessel and went on to a promising career plundering the California Coast for silicone.

Every year on the anniversary of that raid, the Worldwide Order of Pirates, Scalawags and Buccaneers (as well as the Infernal Order of Grocery Store Clerks, which gained admittance after defeating the Pirates in combat during the raid of 1931) have raided the city. The police, military and armed school crossing guards have so far been unable to stop the chaos, and every year thousands of gallons of rum are lost in the atrocities.

more:

Pirates go underground!

Poop-flinging Monkey saves the day!

Where did our (current) historian come from?

Where is the Pirate Captain?

Flagship named in honor of Militia Commander?!?

Bare Asses of the Isle of Sauvie

Photos and blogs from the most recent Plunderathon!