Ahoy, mateys! Bootstrap Ginny here with some more plunderin’ for ye. Last time, we were about to step ashore to Block Island, a pirate haven back in the day.

It’s true that Block Island is one of the stars of my books, Haunted Pirate Tales and Weather Witch, and besides being a great place to hear one of my tales, it was absolutely once a pirate friendly island where many a scurvy knave came ashore.

One of those scurvy knaves was Captain William Kidd himself. He anchored off those rocky shores in 1699, his ship creakin’ like a guilty conscience. Some say he came lookin’ for safe harbor. Others say he came to hide somethin’. And a few — the ones who speak soft when the lantern burns low — claim he left behind a curse that still clings to the island like sea‑mist on the skin.

But before we leave the safer sands and head toward the wreck‑strewn cliffs, let me tell ye one more thing about Captain William Kidd — for Block Island remembers him well, and not always kindly.

Kidd didn’t just pass by these waters, mates. He came ashore, hunted by the law, betrayed by Bellemont, and desperate for allies. In my novel, The Devil’s Treasure, I have him confess, “I was right to come here for refuge. This place is full of smugglers and those that do not wish to be found.”

Aye, that sounds like Block Island to me.

He walked the very lanes ye can walk today — weather‑beaten cottages, suspicious eyes, and the smell of salt and secrets in the air. In my novel, he took his dinner at a tavern called The Pearl Inn— a smoky little den where a man could hide in the shadows and listen for news of his fate. And there, in that dim corner, he met a young fellow named Williams… a lad whose life would be changed forever by a single conversation with a hunted captain.

Kidd trusted him enough to whisper truths he dared not write. He even told the boy, “Freedom, lad… free will and the right to make your own choices are the real treasures in life.”

But Kidd also spoke of another treasure — a hidden trove “beyond any man’s wildest dreams,” found by solving a riddle on a crude map taken from a doomed ship. He promised to return for the boy, to show him the hoard with his own eyes.

But the sea had other plans.

History tells us that within weeks, Kidd was in chains in Boston.

And that, mates, is where the island’s story darkens.

For Kidd’s hurried departure left more than rumors behind. It left fear, and loose tongues, and the uneasy sense that something had been stirred up — something that did not wish to be disturbed.

And that brings us back to the coast… to the cliffs where the wind howls like a grieving widow… to the waters that have swallowed more ships than any honest sea should.

Aye — the shipwreck coast.

And it’s there, mates, where the tale begins to twist toward storms, spirits, and the strange magic that ties Block Island to my Weather Witch tales.

More Block Island…coming your way

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.