Once upon a time there was an old man who spent most of his days sitting on a keg at the old pirate port in Trinidad, whiling away his time, chatting with the old salts who came and went. One day the typical storybook pirate with pegleg, a hook attached to his arm and a black patch over one eye, came strolling up to the old man and they started a conversation.
"Say, looks like you’ve been in a scrape or two," the old man said. "How did you get that wooden leg of yours?"
"Happened a long time ago. We was hauling some booty to an island in a little dinghy. When it hit the beach, I stepped out and didn’t see that crocodile waiting for me. Got me up to me knee afore I could break away."
"Terrible, just terrible," said the old man. "And I suppose you didn’t fare much better losing that arm."
"No, indeed. We had been setting in the Florida Keys, waiting for a merchant ship to come by with a bounty from England. When we spied upon it and went to cast off, the anchor came stuck in the coral reef. I dove down to loosen it up and a shark came up from behind and with one bite took away me arm, right up to me elbow."
"Man, oh man. You do have some bad luck. So tell me, why do you have that patch over your eye?"
"Arrr! Was the first day I had me new hook attached to me arm. Was looking up at the mainsail when a pigeon pooped in me eye."