Charleston Creekside Inn

Bootstrap Ginny and Black Mel will be staying at the Charleston Creekside Inn during Under the Black Flag. It sits right in the marshes that surround Charleston. Perfect for a pyrate hideout.

The marsh around the Charleston Creekside Inn feels like the kind of place where all pyrates (and, really, anyone), should lower their voice without ever really knowin’ why. It’s just a feelin’, ya know?

The creeks run narrow and crooked there, the kind of water a clever captain could slip into when the law was looking the other way.

In the pirate years of 1716–1718, when Charleston was bracing under the raids of Blackbeard and Stede Bonnet, these back channels were the escape routes—quiet, reed‑choked, and perfect for vanishing with the tide. Bonnet’s men were marched to Charleston in chains, tried, and hanged, but out here on the marsh edge? Out here, a few of them were said to have slipped away into the fog and were never accounted for again.

The marsh remembers that sort of thing. Some nights, when the tide turns and the wind comes low across the spartina, folks swear they hear oars dipping where no boat should be—soft, steady, purposeful. A ghost crew rowing for a freedom they never reached. And if you stand on the dock behind the Inn long enough, lantern in hand, you might feel it too: that old, thin place between the living and the lost, where a pirate could still pass by on his way to the open sea.

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.