The Pirate Tour

Organises the tours, books the courses, and keeps the ship's parrots from flying away. The founding visionary of the Pirate Tour, Chris set sail with a dream, a bottle of rum, and absolutely no sense of self-preservation. Buys more drivers than golf balls — a man of vision, if not accuracy. The Admiral's word is law. Even when it's wrong.

Can pronounce soixante-neuf without having any actual experience in it. A founding member of the Tour and a man of many words — most of them unrepeatable. Serial wedding crasher, but hasn't caught scurvy yet. Fluent in the language of chaos, and never knowingly underdressed for a post-round rum.

Long John Stopha off the tee, if he can find it. A founding member whose tee shot has been described as both spectacular and deeply concerning — often on the same hole. Hates parrots, "they talk too much". He has a black mamba, ready to bite you on the greens.

Chief of rum procuration and 19th hole strategist. Dan takes his role as Head of Provisions with the seriousness it deserves — which is to say, very seriously indeed. A former Tour champion, he knows better than most what it takes to win. Never finishes last. But he will finish — every drop, every hole, every round. A true professional.

Shackles has a glass eye for a false handicap — he can spot a sandbagging pirate faster than a parrot spots a cracker. His drinking adage? It's a marathon, not a sprint.

The Admiral's father and the man who started it all — without him, there'd be no ship, no crew, and frankly no Admiral. A sea dog of the finest order: steady in the swell, generous with the rum, and the kind of man even the kraken would tip its hat to.

Hits more water than grass — at this point the fish are more familiar with his ball than the fairway is. And when Dave says he's not going out? Batten down the hatches, lads. He's already in the car.

The finest blade on the ship — straight as a cannon shot and twice as dangerous. Doesn't touch the rum, but has his own herbal remedies that keep him suspiciously relaxed on the back nine. The crew respect him. The course fears him.

The best-dressed pirate on the seven fairways — colour co-ordinated from cap to spikes, even when the weather turns. Has a joke for every occasion, and will find an occasion for every joke. The only man who irons his waterproofs.

A handicap so suspicious even the Accountant sleeps with one eye open. Never seen without a burger — on the course, in the clubhouse, possibly in the water hazard. Inspects every hole with the same dedication he applies to the menu.

Knows literally everything about everything — nautical law, golf history, rum distillation, the migratory patterns of albatrosses. He's here for a good time and a long time. A very long time. The crew stopped arguing with him in 2019. The crew were right to do so.

A painter by trade, and it shows — he covers more ground than anyone on the crew. Sprays the ball with the broad, sweeping confidence of a man who's never met a straight line he couldn't ignore. The fairways are his canvas. Sadly, so are the adjacent ones.

Solid as a ship's keel and twice as dependable — the crew knows Dave will always show up, always pull his weight, and always be there when it counts. The only weakness? A suspicious susceptibility to eye infections. Which, on a pirate tour, at least means the eyepatch is already sorted.

An awesome golfer — when he eventually arrives. Couldn't turn up on time if you paid him in doubloons. The tee sheet says 9am; Daniel says it's a suggestion. The crew have learned to book him an hour early. It doesn't help.

Could have turned pro — chose France instead, which the crew respects enormously. A sports reporter by trade who knows every statistic ever recorded, including ones that haven't happened yet. Will tell you your strokes gained before you've finished your backswing. Currently reporting from somewhere near Bordeaux.

Don't be fooled by the handicap — this man has won back-to-back tournaments and the crew are still trying to work out how. Drinks more beer than George Best at a free bar, yet somehow gets better as the round goes on. The most dangerous pirate on the ship, and the last one anyone sees coming.

Naturally gifted at every sport he's ever touched, and golf is no different — top 3 on his very first voyage with the crew. The seasoned pirates are watching him closely, partly with admiration, mostly with suspicion. Give him time and he'll be a serious threat. He barely needed any.

A left-handed weapon of mass destruction off the tee — when Kelvin connects, the ball doesn't so much fly as disappear into the distance at alarming speed. A confirmed herbal enthusiast who approaches each round with a zen-like calm that the rest of the crew frankly envy. On good days he finds the ball, plays the ball, and the ball does exactly what he wants. On bad days, the ball is not lost. It simply cannot be found. There is a difference, and Kelvin will explain it to you at length. The search party has learned not to bother arguing.

Won his first tour with the group and has even recorded a hole-in-one. A steady hand on the tiller in any conditions — Sam doesn't blow up, doesn't panic, and doesn't draw attention to himself until he's somehow near the top of the leaderboard. Sneakily good in a way that only becomes obvious once it's too late. Stays clear of rum and herbal remedies alike, which the crew respect, if not fully understand. Easy going, unflappable, and quietly dangerous.

Fresh pirates are being shanghaied as we speak. New crew members will be stepping aboard shortly — whether they like it or not.