(It's Talk Like a Pirate Day on Sunday, September 19th, in honor of that it's time to set sail on the high seas.) Port of Despair was what they referred to this rum soaked town. There was no law. The strongest survived, and that's all there was. It was a good place to hide yourself, sell something, or just relax. If there was ever a more miserable place for some clean cut law abiding soul, it was not on earth. This was a pit of wanton affection, bought and sold. There was little if anything that was sacred, and yet people came here. In one of the taverns, there was a rowdy bunch singing. The sang of their mistress the sea as they drank. "Ho there stranger, you buying or selling?"