George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
On his days off, he’d walk around the local cemeteries, looking for groups of people.
The bigger the group, the better.
“He was such a good man,” he’d say to the widow, or whatever was appropriate for the deceased. “We knew each other in high school.”
Then, he’d grab a free lunch from the reception, stuffing his pockets with shrimp and other goodies.
He’d also grab some flowers, because the ship needed some color, or to make a good impression with one of the prettier wenches at the tavern.