The Crew


Say ahoy to Cap’n Port­crash!

She’s a pira­te cap­tain unri­va­led among pira­te cap­tains. No adven­ture is too exci­ting for her, no oce­an on any pla­net is too wide. Yes, you heard right: no oce­an on any pla­net! Becau­se ano­t­her known fact is that Port­crash has real­ly tra­v­eled far and wide across the uni­ver­se. No-one knows exac­t­ly whe­re she comes from or how old she is. ⠀

With her ship, she can cast anchor any­whe­re she likes, and explo­re stran­ge and distant gala­xies with her dar­ing crew, mee­ting crea­tures like car­ni­val wha­les, data octo­pu­ses, cabba­ge-steaming ships and flocks of flu­tes. ⠀

She’s a wild bucca­neer through and through, and that means she’s always at log­ger­heads with the stuffy, suit-wea­ring, rule-bound offi­ci­als on Res­cue Island. ⠀

Cap’n Port­crash loves bar­be­cued sau­sa­ges, chees­e­ca­ke and pira­te karao­ke. She’s char­ming, chao­tic, a mad geni­us, and there’s only one thing she can’t stand at all: ⠀



Say ahoy to Fred!

Fred is Cap’n Portcrash’s best bud­dy.⠀

The two have known each other fore­ver and have sha­red qui­te a few fun­ky adven­tures. Just as in the case of Cap’n Port­crash, no-one is com­ple­te­ly sure whe­re Fred comes from or what pla­net he grew up on.

Fred is often the per­son who tri­es to make Port­crash see sen­se when, once again, she deci­des to inter­pret the rules, sta­tu­tes, and laws of Res­cue Island in her own uni­que way – or if she sim­ply igno­res them. ⠀

Most­ly though, his spi­ri­ted best fri­end gets her own stubborn way, and that ends with mono­to­nous regu­la­ri­ty in the kind of wrang­ling and bicke­ring you’d nor­mal­ly expect from squabb­ling star­fish, crab­by kit­ti­wakes, grumb­ling gulls or very old mar­ried cou­ples. ⠀

Fred hasn’t got any par­ti­cu­lar job on board, but is a good han­dy­man and often helps throw the anchor.⠀

Unli­ke Port­crash, he can’t stand chees­e­ca­ke.


Say ahoy to Bosun!

Bosun keeps Cap’n Portcrash’s ship in order, which is a tall order with a wild and woo­ly pira­te crew on board. ⠀

You’ll often see Bosun waving a fea­ther dus­ter around or come across him with an enor­mous laund­ry bas­ket under his arm.⠀

Bosun comes from Pla­net G in the Gala­xy of Musi­cal Notes. As a child he star­ted atten­ding the best dan­cing school in the uni­ver­se the­re. Dan­cing is Bosun’s gre­at pas­si­on. In fact, he’s the reigning World Cham­pi­on in Pira­te Lim­bo-Hula-Boo­gie, which is abso­lute­ly the most dif­fi­cult dance that you can ima­gi­ne. ⠀

When you see Bosun on the dance­floor, it’s hard to ima­gi­ne that he’s nor­mal­ly very reser­ved and a bit of a daydrea­mer as well.

Apart from his gre­at love, dan­cing, the­re are not many things that inte­rest Bosun, apart from fresh­ly-iro­ned clo­thes with a per­fect fit. ⠀

No mat­ter how tri­cky a situa­ti­on the crew find them­sel­ves in, no sin­gle hair is ever out of place on Bosun’s head. He never gets dir­ty and the­re are no wrink­les or crea­ses in his clo­thes. Even if thrown out of his bunk in the midd­le of the night, he’s always per­fec­t­ly groo­med. ⠀⠀

Bosun joi­ned Cap’n Portcrash’s crew becau­se her ship’s deck has such a beau­ti­ful reso­nan­ce for tap-dan­cing.


Say ahoy to Deck­scrub­ber!

On Cap’n Portcrash’s ship you can eat the cream her­rings right off the deck, it’s so clean. That’s thanks to Deck­scrub­ber, who pain­sta­kin­gly scrubs away the tee­niest spots of dirt the live-long day. ⠀

Deck­scrub­ber has the men­ta­li­ty of a hip­py after three days of Wood­stock, which means he has excel­lent tas­te in music but com­mu­ni­ca­ting with him can be very dif­fi­cult at times. ⠀

He was was­hed up in an empty fruit cock­tail bar­rel in the Liver­pool docks, whe­re Port­crash hap­pen­ed to be lying at anchor. He couldn’t remem­ber whe­re he came from, or how he had got into the bar­rel, or even what he was cal­led. ⠀

Cap’n Port­crash fished him out of the water with the help of a long-hand­led deck scrub brush, and he imme­dia­te­ly joi­ned her crew. This all hap­pen­ed about 398 years ago. 


Say ahoy to Deci­bel­le!

Deci­bel­le is the tiny, deli­ca­te, grace­ful elf. Her fra­gi­le appearan­ce is in sharp con­trast with her unbe­liev­a­b­ly loud voice, howe­ver.⠀⠀

Her beha­vi­or isn’t all that elfin eit­her. She’s fearless, hot-tem­pe­red, and she’s con­stant­ly picking fights. ⠀

Sin­ce Deci­bel­le is loo­king for trou­ble most of the time and never stands still, she uses up mas­si­ve amounts of ener­gy and is always hungry, which makes her even cran­kier.

Des­serts are her favo­ri­te food, and she can wolf them down at unbe­liev­a­ble speed, even when the hel­pings are twice the size that she is. ⠀

Deci­bel­le also ado­res loud rock music, espe­ci­al­ly hea­vy metal. She loves not­hing more than going to live con­certs with Deck­scrub­ber and flin­ging herself into the mosh pit. When it comes to hea­vy metal pira­te karao­ke, she is the unbea­ten cham­pi­on. ⠀

She freaks out imme­dia­te­ly if you con­front her with recor­ders, vio­lins, or harps. ⠀

Cap’n Portcrash’s first encoun­ter with Deci­bel­le was a rather vio­lent one.  Port­crash was pul­ling Deck­scrub­ber out of the har­bor basin at pre­cise­ly the same moment that Deci­bel­le – who had star­ted an air-gui­tar brawl in the pira­te karao­ke bar in Liver­pool – was thrown out by the boun­cer with such force that she cras­hed right onto Portcrash’s head, cur­sing and swea­ring at the top of her voice.


Say ahoy to Anchor­drop­per!

Anchor­drop­per is a man like a tree. He’s strong and calm and not­hing can rock his boat.⠀

When it comes to ancho­ring ships, no-one can beat him for com­pe­tence. He has exac­t­ly the right anchor for every pos­si­ble con­di­ti­on, and will find some­whe­re to anchor in the most impos­si­ble pla­ces. ⠀

The only things that ruf­f­le his tem­per are flat-bot­to­med boats and dry docks, becau­se they are total­ly oppo­sed to his gre­at pas­si­on, the sci­ence of ancho­ring. ⠀

Anchor­drop­per has only recent­ly beco­me a mem­ber of Portcrash’s crew. Befo­re that, he worked in the cen­tral anchor per­mit aut­ho­ri­ty office on Res­cue Island. But after just one week on the job, he rea­li­zed that he couldn’t stand fol­ders or busi­ness suits and deci­ded to fol­low his pas­si­on and work in anchor drop­ping ins­tead. 

By sheer chan­ce, Cap’n Port­crash hap­pen­ed to be pas­sing and heard the rou­sing speech against bureau­cra­cy and for crea­ti­vi­ty and the pur­su­it of dreams that Anchor­drop­per gave in front of the cen­tral anchor per­mit aut­ho­ri­ty office right after his resi­gna­ti­on. Natu­ral­ly, Port­crash offe­red him a job on the spot.


Say ahoy to Helms­man!

Helms­man is the rather snoo­ty-see­ming dri­ver of Cap’n Portcrash’s boat. He learnt his helms­manship skills at the Uni­ver­si­ry of Sand­fjord and Wha­le and has the finest of man­ners. He is always awful­ly poli­te and self-disci­pli­ned.

If you get to know him bet­ter though, you soon dis­co­ver that he’s an incredi­b­ly fun­ny guy with a quir­ky, dry brand of humor. He’s com­ple­te­ly open and always wil­ling to help. ⠀

Helms­man only loses his cool if someo­ne brings up the sub­ject of auto­pi­lo­ting sys­tems.  Not­hing but new-fang­led gim­micks that nobo­dy needs, that’s his opi­ni­on. ⠀

That’s just what he told Cap’n Port­crash the first time he met her, too. After his stu­dies, Helms­man had deci­ded not to fol­low the usu­al path and join the navy, but ins­tead, he star­ted his own water-taxi busi­ness, and cal­led it Scu­ber. He had just sold his busi­ness idea for a tidy pro­fit in Cali­for­nia when he met Port­crash, who had put into San Fran­cis­co Bay to have some rou­ti­ne main­ten­an­ce work done on the hams­ter dri­ve. . ⠀

When the local mecha­nics offe­red to build in a beta ver­si­on of an auto­pi­lot so that Port­crash could test it, Helms­man made a snap decisi­on to join the crew, so they’d “also have a reli­able stee­ring sys­tem on board,” as he put it.


Say ahoy to Smud­gie!

Smud­gie is the cheer­ful, hap­py-go-lucky cook. He feeds the crew the yum­miest meals and loves a good laugh. He doesn’t take anything too serious­ly, him­s­elf inclu­ded. ⠀

Most of the day you’ll find Smud­gie in his gal­ley, sur­roun­ded by pots and pans, hum­ming and whist­ling away while he stirs his deli­cious con­coc­tions.  If he’s not doing that, he’ll be lying in a ham­mock on deck, rea­ding a cook­book. ⠀

He’s always bright and bree­zy, and at the cen­ter of any mischief that’s afoot. He’s the only pira­te that dares to tease Cap’n Port­crash and he’ll even play the occa­sio­nal prank on her. ⠀

What he doesn’t like is packet soup – and micro­wa­ve meals aren’t allo­wed on his ship at all. He will use can­ned goods, but only in abso­lu­te emer­gen­ci­es.

Smud­gie comes from a litt­le pla­net at the end of the uni­ver­se, whe­re he learnt ever­ything a top cook needs to know in the local restau­rant. That’s whe­re he first met Cap’n Port­crash (who had snuck into the pan­try and was cramming a four-lay­er chees­e­ca­ke into her mouth in one go).