Calling All Salty Dogs: This Pirate’s Home is Literally Swinging

Avast ye hearties! Tis’ be a new year for resolutions and good times.

My resolve for this year is to live the life of an old seadog. Arrr you following along with me, you scallywags? No need for landlubbers. It is a pirate’s life for me.

Now before you all contact CandysDirt.com and let them know that perhaps I have had one too many claps of thunder and am three sheets to the wind, rest assured I am not. I am simply so inspired by the house featured in this week’s column that I thought I would give a pirate’s life a chance.

Okay, back to being a pirate. It is fun.

Batten down ye hatches and let us take a look at what awaits us at 1990 Bastian Ct, Lakeport, California.

Now to live a true pirate’s life, I do not need to see any more. You cannot ask for a more awesome bar to take up the majority of your first floor. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me. While I would relish yelling, “Bring me a tankard of grog you saucy wench!” my pirate’s life would also greatly appreciate indoor plumbing and bedrooms.

This home has three-and-a-half bathrooms, three bedrooms and is 3,716 square feet. The owners are asking $1.2 million. It will take a vast amount of doubloons to come up with that down payment but it will be worth it, I promise.

Ye have the option of walking a bridge to your bedroom or, according to the description, you can “rope swing from one room to another.” I do not know about you buccaneers but walking the bridge would be too much like walking the plank. Be a good while before I end up in Davey Jones’ locker.

As you are swinging around though, keep an eye out for this son of a biscuit eater.

Arrr! What fabulous décor for a pirate’s home. The rusty, corrugated tin looks like it washed up on shore. An old salty dog like myself is not afraid of a tetanus shot.

Now for you lads and lassies who do not have a first mate, do not fear. 

There is no better first mate than a gorilla in a hula skirt and a sombrero. You instantly know he is well-traveled and has seen the inside of a tavern.

A pirate can never be too far away from water, though. Shiver me timbers, the pool is fantastic.

And with that me old seadogs, I bring this an end. It is harder than I thought to be a pirate. I have lost track of the number of words that are underlined with squiggly red lines. The pirate’s life does not like spell and grammar checks.

My wish for all of you is that the new year brings you all a bounty of treasures and lots of grog.

To see more photos, click here.