 |
|
|
A Hawthorne man and his for-hire crew have steered their time under the Jolly Roger into a profitable venture. The business provides buccaneers for social events. By Josh Grossberg Daily Breeze After a day filled with plunder and pillage, a pirate can work up a monster of an appetite. Moments after commandeering a ship in the waters off San Pedro on Thursday morning, one bearded buccaneer turned to another and, with a cold glint in his eye, whispered ominously. "You wanna get some brunch?" he asked. "Let's get some brunch." These are good times to be a pirate. They're featured on rides at Legoland, their Jolly Roger flag has become a popular adornment on motor homes and the latest chapter of the "Pirates of the Caribbean" films, which opens today, is expected by some to be the most popular movie of the summer. And for Ted Shred of Hawthorne, it's a bucket of treasure. Shred runs Pirates for Hire, a business that provides buccaneers for social events. He has 30 pirates at his disposal. They're sort of like party clowns, except they drink and carry weapons. How good is business? "I just bought my third house," Shred said. "I'm booked through next year." Wearing flowing shirts, scarves around their heads, knee-high black leather boots, gold rings in their ears and sharp cutlasses tucked in their belts, these guys look like the real deal. Or at least the Hollywood version of the real deal. "We've got Bowie knives, guns, but no one stops us," Shred said. "When the (first 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movie) came out, everyone wanted to be a pirate." Bullet Valmont is Shred's partner. Apparently "Bullet Valmont" wasn't a spiffy enough name, so he goes by the pirate moniker of Solomon Crow. He's been doing the pirate shtick for 13 years. "We always knew it would take off," he said. "But it took years and years for people to notice how cool we are." The beauty of being a pirate is the older you get, the more you fit the part. Lose a few teeth, gain a few pounds, and it only enhances your image. And you never have to cut your hair. Ask them if they're wearing wigs, and these guys will dare you to tug on their shoulder-length locks. "We have flashy clothes," Valmont said. "We have pirate groupies, everything." "We're the rock stars of the 1600s," Shred added. "Oberon is a wench magnet." He was referring to Westchester resident Oberon Seliceo, who looks exactly like the guy on the rum bottle. He's been a pirate since before pirate was cool. "I was doing it in 1983 on my own," he said. "They called me the crazy pirate man." Will Straube of Lomita started making pirate jewelry almost as a joke. Now he can't make it fast enough to satisfy his customers. "What's cooler than a pirate? They get away with anything," Straube said. It's not all fun and games. This is a profession that carries certain occupational hazards. "I did a flogging the other night," Shred said. "I did 13 in a row. I got a little tennis elbow." It just so happened that the pirates arrived at Ports O' Call at the exact same time members of the San Pedro Republican Women Federated were having a meeting. Keithann Loya of Rancho Palos Verdes let out a little yelp of surprise when she saw the four marauders, but quickly regained her composure. "I thought it must have been some kind of publicity thing," said the Rancho Palos Verdes resident. The crew then quickly swarmed the Exy Johnson, a wooden brigantine docked nearby. They posed for pictures before deciding it was time to eat. And so they returned to their cars -- a Jeep Cherokee and a Buick station wagon -- and drove to the nearby Acapulco restaurant where they were quickly seated. Return to Main Page |
|