LOOSE LIPS MAY SINK SHIPS,
BUT RULES WERE MEANT
TO BE BROKEN.

So open ye mouths wide as these ‘ere seas, ya land-lubbers. Let the glorious rum tide wash o’er ye. ARRR.

Cos’ our locally-distilled courage lifter tastes like the Caribbean with cane sugars an’ molasses.

Held in the hook o’every gentleman o’fortune an’ found in the grip of every proverbial scurvy dog.

DOWN THE HATCH, ME HEARTIES.