*clunk* 'twas you that polished that mast, weren't it? darned slippery thing it be! an' here i wanted to slip in all quiet like, and instead have bruised me bleeding ar*e!
Scher? beggin' yer pardon, where ye be?
<<Scher, it's amuse, i'd really like to sail with you and your esteemed crew, if I may be so bold as to presume upon you while you're busy at the helm.>>
i dinna can cook or fire cannon, but i can make some fighty mine grub if it be someone's birfday, and this sword makes a nice clean sound when i whistle it through some scurvy knave who won't hand over his gold or his (can't type the next with a staight face :D) booty.

