So I took my backup-backup camera, a Nikon D40x, a crappy kit lens, and walked around.
These guys were near the entrance. At these festivals there is always plenty of handicrafted work to buy-- or in this case, plunder.
These pirates took the concept of relaxation to their own level.
Two saucy wenches exploring their own inner pirate.
And then, the ship ran aground on the Isle of Grease. I've been eating poorly and too much for the better part of sixty years, yet I must say that the Blackbeard Festival provides a gracious excess of ways to fry things.