It would be fair to say that the very popular image of a pyrate with a parrot perched on his shoulder can be accredited to Robert Louis Stevenson. Stevenson gave us the beloved pyrate anti-hero, Long John Silver, in the classic pyrate novel, Treasure Island. We pyrate brethren love our Long John Silver, but, alas, you just can’t trust the scurvy knave. Nonetheless, fill your tankard and let’s drink a toast to Silver! And another one for Stevenson! (In my pyrate lair, when either Silver or Treasure Island are mentioned, we always stop what we’re doin’ and drink a toast! It’s pyrate law around here!)
So…Pyrates and parrots. Parrots and pyrates. Best buddies and a pyrate’s best friend, right?
Nope. Not true. Not even a little bit. Besides parrots being mean, LOUD beasties with lethal beaks that could chomp off a finger (or two), they were not, in fact, a treasured pyrate pet. Did I mention that they are mean and scream at ya?
Anyway, Silver may have been fond of his parrot, (or not), but the truth about pyrates and parrots is rather more mercenary than what Treasure Island portrays, (shouldn’t surprise us, aye?) Mercenary. Pyrates. Get it?
In 18th century Europe, the beautifully colored macaw parrot was considered to be quite an exotic pet. It was a symbol of both luxury and wealth. What was not to love? Macaws are gorgeously colored, and they can talk! Exciting, right? Parrots were perfect party entertainment for the rich! Thus, parrots became a trading commodity.
It must have been a rather involved process. That is, a pyrate hunting a parrot, capturing it, and keeping it alive until you could make port. It would be ill-advised to take the parrot (or parrots) to the market on your own. So, you had to find an agent to sell your parrots for you. And the risk involved with finding an agent and making the exchange was quite high. A pyrate’s bounty might just be worth more than a parrot. If it was, the end of that story could probably involve a noose.
Parrots did not serve any real purpose on a tall ship, (like, say, a cat being rodent patrol), so if they were kept as a pet, it would have been solely for companionship or vanity. This would, at the very least, involve a cage, cleaning that cage, and feeding the bird. Oh, and having a panic attack every time that it SCREAMED.
This is where my personal experience with macaw parrots comes into this plunder adventure. I had a roommate once, a pyrate named Tim, who had a macaw. We’ll call him Arsehold. Now, Arsehold LOVED Pyrate Tim and NO ONE ELSE.
Every time that I spoke to Arsehold, he would scream back, “Shut up!” It was startling, by the way, especially the first time. If I persisted in speaking to him, (I was honestly trying to be his pal), he would eventually scream, “Shut the F*CK UP!” These were the only words ever spoken to me by Arsehold.
Besides his potty mouth, Arsehold would sometimes whistle for my dog to come closer to his cage, then the beast would lunge at him, clack his beak loudly, and LAUGH. This, my friends, was disturbing to witness. I grew to fear Arsehold, as did my dog.
Neither my dog nor I lost any body parts to Arsehold’s malevolent endeavors; but, I can still hear him scream at me. I shall never forget it.
So, pyrates and parrots? Parrots and pyrates? Not such a great pairing after all. Except for our pal, Long John Silver! (Toast!) in Treasure Island! (Toast!)
Next time, Pyrate Parties. Until then, keep plunderin’!
Virginia Chandler 