elanya

One of the great things about pirate ships in the good old days was that they were purpose-built - not for cargoes of crude oil or containers or package tourists, but for knavery and conspiracy and swashbuckling and, in a word, Romance. There had to be a stateroom spacious enough for the likes of Tyrone and George Sanders to fight their climatic duel (well, try and stage that sort of barney in some four-by-two cabin on G Deck with twin bunks and a corner wash-basin and see how far you get). And there had to be smaller cabins with stout oaken doors and heavy brass locks, for kidnapped heiresses and hapless señoritas to cower behind, while drunken Dons or people like Firebeard smashed the panels in. There had to be doorways high enough for stalwart heroes to stride through masterfully without catching their heads a shattering crash just as they were about to say: "So, proud Isabella, we meet again," or "Ha-ha, Gomez, our reckoning is due!" as the case might be. Then there had to be foetid compartments deep 'i the bowels o' the vessel for plotting bloody mutiny, d'ye see, secret nooks for hiding treasure-maps or jewels o' price, rat-filled orlops for confining prisoners, pitch-black holds for knife fights with gigantic Negroes, and a great network of secret passages for stowaways, assistant heroes, and various eccentrics to lurk in, and for dreadful nameless Things to pop out during the middle watch and knife the man at the wheel.

-beginning of Chapter the Eleventh, The Pyrates, George Macdonald Fraser.

So, as you can see, all pirate enthusiastes absolutely *must* read this book, for it is amazing.