Not that they owned the entire island, that would be wasteful, and Sam Kirk was anything but wasteful. No, they'd purchased a huge estate and settled in as banana planters. There were servants, there had to be because in the end they couldn't be the only people on their island, romantic as that sounded. Someone had to take care of their personal and household needs. But the staff was well-paid and loyal and gave the gentlemen owners as much privacy as they required.
The Doctor, as the servants called him, dressed often in white and had a private laboratory where he spent a lot of his time, tables covered in phials and bottles, studying slides under his prized microscope, brought over from Europe and treasured above all his possessions. Each ship that arrived on the island brought more books, and soon his library rivaled anyone's in a hundred mile radius.
The other man, the one they all still called The Captain, oversaw the day to day operations of the plantation. Riding from one end to the other each day, he knew all the workers by name, knew their wives and families, and when push came to shove, in an emergency, worked just as hard as they did, earning the respect of each man there.
As the years past, they became more familiar with the island residents. Summer evenings would find Bones sitting on a patio in the shade reading the news papers for the past few months that he'd had delivered while Sam played with local children on the beach.
For decades the plantation successfully made them tremendous amounts of money, and years later they would tell stories to the island children of their days on the open seas. None of the children ever believed that the friendly, white-haired old men had ever been pirates. That was silly...
One year later...
Not that they owned the entire island, that would be wasteful, and Sam Kirk was anything but wasteful. No, they'd purchased a huge estate and settled in as banana planters. There were servants, there had to be because in the end they couldn't be the only people on their island, romantic as that sounded. Someone had to take care of their personal and household needs. But the staff was well-paid and loyal and gave the gentlemen owners as much privacy as they required.
The Doctor, as the servants called him, dressed often in white and had a private laboratory where he spent a lot of his time, tables covered in phials and bottles, studying slides under his prized microscope, brought over from Europe and treasured above all his possessions. Each ship that arrived on the island brought more books, and soon his library rivaled anyone's in a hundred mile radius.
The other man, the one they all still called The Captain, oversaw the day to day operations of the plantation. Riding from one end to the other each day, he knew all the workers by name, knew their wives and families, and when push came to shove, in an emergency, worked just as hard as they did, earning the respect of each man there.
As the years past, they became more familiar with the island residents. Summer evenings would find Bones sitting on a patio in the shade reading the news papers for the past few months that he'd had delivered while Sam played with local children on the beach.
For decades the plantation successfully made them tremendous amounts of money, and years later they would tell stories to the island children of their days on the open seas. None of the children ever believed that the friendly, white-haired old men had ever been pirates. That was silly...
Of course, they lived happily ever after.