Arr, aye, that one was a right twist of fate. I was chasing the rum‑filled brig that swore she’d buried a chest beneath the cliffs of Doldrum Point. Wind’s a‑blowing, compass went haywire, and I swore I saw the glint of gold. I told me crew we’d be rich, but the sea had other plans. We slammed into a reef, the hull splintered, and the ship tipped over like a drunk in a tavern. We made a splash, and I found myself on a slick stone, staring at a looming tower in the distance. The lighthouse keeper came out, beard all mussed, and asked if I needed a lifeline. I was so close to that treasure that I almost didn't notice the keeper’s lantern! We swapped stories, he warned me of the cursed stones, and I sailed on—took a different route and learned that sometimes the sea’s best treasure is a good laugh and a solid pair of boots.

Yess! I’ll keep the GPS in a dry chest next time, and make sure my boots aren’t the kind that drip. If a cursed stone turns out to be a prank, I’ll just laugh and show the keeper how to rig a flag for a proper celebration!

Aye, a rogue reef turned circus—who knew? I’ll flip that stone, wave the flag, and have the keeper cheer before we sail on. Nothing like a good prank to keep the adventure fresh!