This weekend I had the pleasure of sailing on the Lady Washington for yet another voyage on Lake Washington. Unlike my last venture, however, I did not climb aboard under false pretenses.

For several hours, the Lady Washington and the Hawaiian Chieftain sailed around each other, lobbing fake cannonade and insults as they attempted to out-navigate their foe in the spirit of 17th century sea battles.

During our three-hour tour, I couldn’t help but notice several people, mostly kids, dressed up like pirates. This in and of itself isn’t odd or strange; anything involving tall ships and sea battles is bound to involve pirate references and Robert Newton imitations.

What occurred to me was how strange it should be to encourage children to lightheartedly emulate people we portray as alcoholic killers of the Seven Seas, a terror to peaceful cities and unarmed ships. Nevermind the historical (in)accuracy of the modern-day pirate caricature.

I thought of the lyrics in the song “A Pirates Life for Me”: “We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot, Drink up, me ‘earties, yo ho. We kidnap and ravage and don’t give a hoot…”

Somehow, when kids sing this song and repeat lines from a theme park ride about bidding on winsome wenches, we think it is endearing and correlate it with harmless family fun. And then there is the NFL football team, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, with a mascot named Captain Fear, and amazingly no one’s tried to get their name changed (you never know, though).

So what makes the popular culture’s take on pirates so appealing? I highly doubt, for example, in a few decades kids will be able to sing (censored) gangster rap, wear gang-colored clothing, and attend gang shootout reenactments with mom and dad as part of a Sunday afternoon’s entertainment.

I chalk it up to a good public relations firm. At some point the Piratical Order of the Brethren decided they needed to ensure they would always be portrayed as adventuresome, rum-drinking mavericks who didn’t answer to anyone as they explored the open ocean. To those who slaved away at life-draining work in terror of their bosses, the image was irresistibly romantic. Then Robert Louis Stevenson wrote the novel “Treasure Island,” capturing the essence of the murderous, yet charming villain you couldn’t help but like in the form of Long John Silver.

Today, I’m sure the Order still exists as some highly obscure yet all-powerful lobbyist organization seeking to maintain this romantic perception so they can continue to sell pirate costumes every Halloween.

Mind you, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our affection for pirates and allowing kids to dress up like them shows we still have some lighthearted humor left in a world where being easily offended has increasingly become a national pastime.

TJ Martinell is a staff writer with the Kirkland Reporter newspaper.