Pirate Festival in Vallejo

It was Father’s Day and my darling daughter Anita (aka Durt Gurl) had a brilliant idea. The Pirate Festival was being held in Vallejo. I would take the ferry across the Bay and visit her new hometown for some swashbuckling hijinks!

So it didn’t surprise me to see pirates wandering San Francisco’s historic Ferry Building. I knew where they were heading. Some tourists who were out early were curious and asked the buccaneers about their garb. Locals didn’t even notice them. It was just another Sunday morning in San Francisco.  

At least ten pirates boarded the ferry. They didn’t seem to be an especially bloodthirsty bunch. Most of them were older pirates. I knew they wanted to get to the the festival and meet their shipmates, so I wasn’t too worried that the ferry would be hijacked. It wouldn’t make sense to seize the ship on the way there. The return voyage might be a different story. 

It was a clear day, a great day to be out on the Bay. The usual safety announcements were made. The captain warned us that it could be windy, “There will be some chop.” “Don’t move around the boat unless necessary.” “Life jackets are stowed under the seat.” “There is no smoking or vaping allowed anywhere on the vessel... No medical marijuana is allowed on the ferry... Yes folks, I have to mention it.” This would be another anecdote for visitors from less fortunate states when they got back home. “They had to tell them not to smoke pot on the ferry!”    

Before the bridges were built the ferry had been a pleasant way to commute. Each ferry developed its own little community. It was a relaxing way to start and end the day. Taking the ferry was part of a more civilized lifestyle. After a recent BART strike, people are starting to use the ferry system more.    

11:10. The ferry crossing takes about an hour. It’s not too hot. Vallejo had been home to the Mare Island Naval Base. The small town depended on its sailor population and struggled after the base’s closure. I couldn’t find any evidence of pirates or pirate attacks in Vallejo’s history, but it still had to be a rowdy town on a Saturday night. The area has been recovering in recent years. It’s been discovered by many who are looking for an alternative to the high rents of San Francisco.   

  Anita and her friend Elijah met me at the ferry landing. It was a short walk along the water to Vallejo’s Waterfront Park. The festival was much bigger than I had expected. I thought it would take up a couple of blocks of downtown Vallejo. Waterfront Park has a promenade along the Napa River.  It was the perfect place for a pirate festival. It’s right next to the water and Vallejo is in heavy Oakland Raiders territory! 

We entered through The Main Gate. Most of the people on the festival grounds were in pirate clothes. I’ll guesstimate at least two-thirds of the people wandering the festival grounds were dressed up, and they didn’t just wear a tri-corner hat, scarf or eyepatch. The pirate attire was very detailed. People were certainly in the spirit of the event. Their clothes looked authentic. Like many events in the San Francisco Bay Area there was a touch of Halloween in the proceedings. 

It was hard to tell who the paying customers were. People dressed as pirates were paying the admission fee to get in. Were the re-enactors employees? It didn’t seem to matter as the day went on.

It reminded me of the Renaissance Faire. I suspected that many of the same people were involved with both events and The Dickens Faire. Re-enactors are a dedicated bunch. It costs money to get the authentic clothes and accoutrements. I’m not wearing any Pirate stuff. Not even a Pittsburgh Pirates baseball hat. I’ll just have to channel my inner Keith Richards.

We got the lay of the land. Vendor’s booths stretched as far as the eye could see. We’ll never look at this strip of land the same again. To our right was the Treasure Island Kids Stage. Anne Bonney, Jack Rackham and Calico Jack taught the kids essential pirate and nautical skills at The Pirate School. There was knot tying, sword making and a class in walking the plank.

It was a good way to keep the little buggers busy, but is walking the plank a good pirate skill to have? It’s pretty much over when you’re forced to walk the plank. Maybe it’s a good thing to know if you are forced to do it, but there isn’t much of a future in walking the plank. Eventually you’re going to wind up swimming with the sharks. Has anyone walked the plank and survived?  

The kids had a good teacher in Ann Bonny. Female pirates like Grace O’Malley and Mary Read were rare, but not only did they hold their own, they were greatly feared.  

Vendors sold leather goods, jewelry and other essentials of the buccaneer lifestyle. There was “Fyne Jewelry” and beads. Feathers and pirate hats. The leather goods and jewelry looked very well made. There were rum cakes, candies and other delicacies. You could find everything necessary for life on the high seas.  

“It’s a pirate’s life for me.” Pirates looked free and independent. It’s said the crews on pirate ships were an early form of democracy. They had mutinied against the intolerable life of a seaman. It was said every lowly sailor had some say in where the search for plunder went. I had to wonder if that was true.  

It was a little early for the Food Court. The turkey leg looked great, but it may have been a bit too much. A turkey leg could be a good prop, but you would have to carry it around for most of the day.  

There was a surreal sight ahead. Mermaids hung on the edge of a see through tank called The Dive Bar. They say that after too much time at sea sailors hallucinated and saw sea manatees as beautiful female creatures. These beautiful creatures of the sea certainly weren’t manatees. A crowd had gathered with wide eyed children in front, near the tank.

The grass near the tanks was wet and a bit muddy. People got splashed as the mermaids frolicked. It’s the Sea World effect. It was a great photo op. We caught the very end of their performance. The large tank kept the mermaids wet and alive. The brave young women took a break from the water and wind.   

The air was alive with pirate songs and sea chanteys. At the Shipwreck Stage “Penny Opry” played some old tunes with a backup of a button accordion and a suitcase drum kit. Later we would hear The Sea dogs, The Brass Farthing and Skip Henderson and The Starboard Watch.

 

It was time for some grog. We stopped at The Rum Bar for “The Mermaid,” a rum and juice drink. Jack Sparrow swaggered our way. He was a young man with a marked resemblance to Johnny Depp. He seemed a bit drunk, but he wasn’t too obnoxious. A professional. His outfit was very detailed. The clothes. The face tattoo. The flint lock. He drank from a large tankard. He really did look like Johnny Depp.    

He mumbled and slurred some witticisms that only he seemed to appreciate. He approached and talked to people. Attendees were amused, but tended to scurry away. I’m not sure how drunk he was, but he was certainly playing the part. 

The guy was good. Is he getting paid for this? If he is, it’s not a bad gig. Walking around all day at least pretending to get drunk and playing at being a combination of Johnny Depp and Keith Richards. Would it get old after a couple of hours? 

Pirates have captured our imagination for a long time. The Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise and the ride at Disneyland shot new life into the pirate subculture. Most of us first learned about pirates from the movies. An earlier generation saw the Jackie Cooper version of the Robert Louis Stevenson classic, Treasure Island. For Baby Boomers it was the Disney version. Long John Silver! Now there was a pirate! He only had one leg and he was still the leader of the pirates.     

 

Pirates are extroverts. Two grizzled sea dogs shouted loud greetings to each other, ignoring the landlubbers walking between them.   

“What’s the definition of a good pirate? One who hasn’t killed someone... Today!” 

People were lined up for a photo op with a large parrot. This was a big hit with the kids. Parents seemed a bit miffed that a donation for more grog was requested. It reminded me of The Pirate on Fisherman’s Wharf.  

Buxom wenches wandered the festival grounds. Their low cut blouses exposed more decolletage than could be seen in the strip clubs on North Beach’s Broadway. It was a lusty time. This was day two of the festival and many were sporting a strip of sunburn. Faces that weren’t used to being out in the sun were very red. Maybe it was from being exposed to the sea wind up in the rigging.   

Two guys started dueling with wooden swords. There was jumping around and the clacking of wood. It was the first of the impromptu fights we would see. There sure were a lot of weapons around. Flintlocks were secured in the sashes of coats. Don’t bump into anyone here. You could be in real trouble if someone didn’t like the cut of your jib. 

The Brotherhood of Oceanic Mercenaries. (B.O.O.M.) lounged under a large tent. Another group of re-enactors is named the Brotherhood of the Black Flag. They had a great looking spread of food and drink. There were tankards and turkey legs. Now that’s the kind of reenactment I could get into. Sitting around all day eating and drinking. I didn’t know the mates from B.O.O.M. would have to swing into action later this afternoon.   

The main stage is the Tortuga Stage. A Rock band struggled to tune up. They are O’Craven, “A Celtic Pirate band.” They’re wearing pirate gear. The lead singer has a bright green pirate hat on. You don’t see a green pirate hat too often. It takes them a while to get going. When they do start rocking, a group of lasses dances in front of the stage. Elijah notes that they’re probably the girl friends of the band. Pirate groupies must be very tough. Pirates and Heavy Metal make a great combination. I imagined them rocking across the high seas, pillaging and plundering. Search and Destroy!  

Restrooms are called “The Poop Deck.” 

I stopped in The Rum Bar for a Lagunitas IPA. Six doubloons. Six bucks. Not a bad price nowadays. Two friendly barmaids trod the boards behind the bar. They thanked a customer for contributing to their tip jar and adding to their “booty.”  

Who walks in but Jack Sparrow! He has his own mug. The barmaids certainly know him. They’ve been hustling tips with a sense of humor. “We love the booty,” they tell another customer, encouraging him to rattle the tip jar. Jack Sparrow looks a bit wistful. “Yes... I love the booty.”   

Morgan’s Companie was a tented VIP area. Not sure what being a VIP got you, besides a break from the sun, but it did look pretty cool. Blackbeard was supposed to be around, but I didn’t see him. There was a distinguished looking gentlemen in richer looking clothing and a well manicured wig. He must be a barrister or a nobleman of some kind. He is The Pirate Hunter, Woodes Rogers. How did he get away with hanging out with the scurvy scum he usually pursued? 

There were odd meetings of technology and piracy. I heard a grizzled looking buccaneer growling into his cell phone, “What are your bearings? ... What are your bearings?”  

When we got back to the Food Court it was time. There were the street fair staples, but there was also a booth offering various fowl. Chicken, turkey, duck or quail. We settled for a great, fresh gyros! The nearby Blackbeard’s Beverages served drinks.

There were large round tables and we joined two women decked out in nautical regalia. One had a large hummingbird tattoo. “My boyfriend went to the gun range.” They were friendly enough. They were long time veterans of The Pirate Festival and talked about attending some of the first ones.  

We still had some pirating to do. There were some daring activities. People hurtled through the air on a zip line. Now here was a valuable pirate skill! Ideal for boarding enemy vessels! Pirates invented the zip line. Having someone flying overhead on the zip line did put some excitement in the air. 

Large, clear plastic bubbles bounced in a large pool of water. There were people inside the bubbles! Most of them were kids. It was like bumper cars on the water. Two attendants helped people get into the bubbles through a little door. They were a bit more careful when helping adults into the bubbles, but if it was a kid they just threw them in. The attendants knew that as soon as the bubble was pushed back into the pool that the kids would lose their balance and fall anyway. It was a soft landing inside the bubble. It was hard to control where the bubble went in the water. Adults tended to lay inside,  relax and float aimlessly. Kids scrambled around inside their bubble and tried to steer them. Ten dollars got you “four or five minutes” inside the bubble. 

Some of the male pirates looked pretty long in the tooth. What do you do if you’re an old decrepit guy with long stringy hair? Be a pirate! I found myself wondering what some of these knaves did in the real world. How many pirates could have survived to an advanced age? Maybe these scurvy scum weren’t as old as they looked. It was a rough life at sea.  

One old pirate wore a familiar looking coat. Red with white trim. It was a Santa Claus suit! The rest of his outfit was a pirate outfit, but he did have the Santa jacket. Another pirate teased him about his convenient dress. Santa pirate bantered with the other guy, “This isn’t my slow season!”    

A couple of young kids were sword fighting with wooden swords. They probably made them at The Pirate School. Children and sticks are usually not a good combination. Sooner or later something goes wrong. They flailed their wooden weapons wildly at each other.     

There was a time that I valued and enjoyed a good stick. Sticks were a valuable part of our arsenal back in the old neighborhood. There was no shortage of plastic firearms back then, but sometimes a stick was more convenient. A stick of the right size could be a rifle. Another one could be a sword. A good stick was a valuable commodity.

The women in The House of the Rising Son were very enthusiastic re-enactors. Their faces were pale with makeup. The “Painted Ladies” were dressed and made up for business. This was a brothel in New Orleans. All the corsets, bustles and long frilly skirts had to be a challenge on a hot day. Women wore a lot of clothes in the Eighteenth century. They sang a very spirited rendition of “The Cabin Boy’s Son.” It turns out the cabin boy can get pregnant. They looked like they enjoyed singing together.   

With apologies to the painted ladies and mermaids, the highlight of the day had to be the “ship to shore cannon battle.” Evil pirates sailed The Sea Eagle up the Napa River along The Promenade. They had designs on Vallejo. Cannon shots were fired at the gathered landlubbers. There could be pillage and plunder! Maybe worse.     

The Brotherhood of Oceanic Mercenaries sprang into action! They scrambled to load and aim their cannon and return fire from their fortifications on shore. The members of B.O.O.M. saved Vallejo from the invading buccaneers! Blimey!   

It was time to go back to the relative reality of San Francisco. There were still some pirates in the bar near the Vallejo Ferry. I was relieved that there were no buccaneers on board the ferry returning to San Francisco. There was a good chance I’d make it across the Bay without getting shanghaied. Thanks to Darling Daughter for a great Father’s Day!