Bootstrap Ginny and Black Mel are settin’ sail for the Under the Black Flag event in Charleston, May 15-16, 2026!

It’s going to be a pyrate holiday! We’ll be hoisting the sails and plotting a course: First stop: Savannah, Georgia The Pirates’ House!

The Pirates’ House is always part of Bootstrap Ginny’s plan if’n she’s sailing down that way. It has an intriguing history, a haunted basement (more like a dungeon!), and the food, my hearties, is actually VERY tasty!

Click here for a brief history of The Pirates’ House

I mean, Captain Flint, THE Captain Flint, was here with BILLY BONES! Don’t you look at me with that wily side-eye! Long John Silver said it, so it MUST be true!

Sidenote: Robert Louis Stevenson, author of Treasure Island, visited Savannah and was apparently inspired to have his character, Captain Flint, die in Savannah while calling for more rum. A true pyrate, that ole scallywag Flint!

After fillin’ our bellies with some delicious seafood, we will be plunderin’ the booty (gift shop) upstairs…with any luck, we’ll emerge virtually unscathed and with lots of pyrate-y goodies!

Then, it’s on to Charleston! Taking the Savannah Highway, (Hwy 17), we will wind through the marshes and low country of South Carolina, eventually traveling almost parallel to the Stono River.

Stono River? Aye, there’s some pyrate history here! Fenwick Hall is not far from the Stono River, and Fenwick Hall was built by John Fenwick, the brother of the Red Sea Pyrate, Robert Fenwick.

Aye, Fenwick Hall was built by the brother of a pyra–privateer. Ahem. Robert Fenwick arrived in Charles Town on the Bachelor’s Delight in 1692. Fenwick, along with George Raynor and other members of the crew, settled in Charles Town, becoming landowners of huge tracts of land, (which they bought with rather large amounts of Arabian gold). Read more here: The Fenwick Pyrate

Ye can’t get up to Fenwick Hall, but we’ll pass by and giv’em a hearty AHOY as we pass.

Once we arrive in the marshes around Charleston, we’ll be setting up our pyrate hideout at the Charleston Creekdside Inn!

Until then, fair winds!

To the ghosts that guide us, the storms that test us, and the gold that waits for those who dare — may our ink never run dry and our courage never fade. Raise your tankards, mates… for the sea still remembers our names.