Disembarking from the leather flagship by swinging down a braided lace, my keen single eye caught a silver glint marooned in the shadows of the floorboards! I crept forward across the polished timber like a hunter closing in on lost doubloons. Lo and behold, wedged beneath the base of an umbrella stand lay a miraculous relic: a shiny brass keychain hoop holding a miniature pocket compass. It took a mighty heave and three theatrical shuffles of my boots, but I pried the brass ring loose with my paws. The needle quivers and points toward the mysterious great hall! What is a buccaneer's favorite letter, you wonder? You'd think it's the R, but his true love will always be the C! Ha!