The newest pirate in St. Petersburg has curly gray hair, glasses and a Southern twang. His pistol is filled with water instead of gunpowder. He pays taxes on his booty. And he can't let sailors on the top deck of his ship until the U.S. Coast Guard inspects it.
Blackbeard would be unimpressed.
But for 60-year-old Ray Hixon, even an imitation of pirate life is preferable to the daily corporate grind. After 30 years as a furniture salesman, Hixon took his life savings, enlisted his family's help and bought a pair of pirate ships -- one on wheels and one on water. He risked everything to wear the skull-and-crossbones and take tourists on cruises of Tampa Bay.
"If all else fails, we'll put beds on the ship and live in there," Hixon says.
The flagship of Hixon's business is the Treasure Seeker, a bright red, 65-foot, engine-powered send-up of pirate culture. It's more "Peter Pan" than "Pirates of the Caribbean." Rainbow pennants adorn the rigging, green wooden fish carvings support the upper decks, and a busty woman with flowers in her hair juts from the bow.
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The Treasure Seeker sails daily at 2 p.m., 4 p.m. and 7 p.m., depending
on ticket sales. Tickets are $25 for adults, $22 for seniors and
children, and $5 for sailors under 3.
The Treasure Seeker holds a
"party with the captain" on the first and third Saturdays of each month
at 7 pm. Only guests above 21 are admitted. On the last Saturday of the
month, a DJ is on board. Ticket prices vary based on the event or group
purchases. For reservations, call (727) 902-YOHO.
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Since opening for business last Labor Day at the Pier in downtown St. Petersburg, the Treasure Seeker has hosted a variety of guests. It's popular among tourists, corporations and gay and lesbian groups. The ship has held on-board weddings, with the bride and groom in full pirate regalia. Ray welcomes them all, encouraging squirt gun battles and bawdy behavior.
A recent evening brings the Treasure Seeker a cast party from a pirate show in John's Pass. The boat fills early with characters calling themselves Scarlet and Fergus and Goliath, clad in tri-cornered hats, waistcoats and blouses. Such spirit is rare. Next to them, Ray the Pirate looks pedestrian in a yellow skull-and-crossbones T-shirt.
The 87 passengers are a bumper crowd, a godsend after the afternoon cruise netted just six customers. That's life in the walk-up cruise business. Some days the boat is packed, some days it's all but empty. The best events are the planned ones, like this one, that guarantee a decent crowd.
"We'll go out anytime," Ray says. "We have good days and bad days, but it sustains itself."
The crew is made up mostly of Hixons. Ray's wife, Betsy Hixon, isn't cruising because of a recent surgery, but his 80-year-old mother-in-law, Barbara Knight, tidies the seating area while his 26-year-old son, Tripp Hixon, schmoozes with customers.
They all got swept along when Ray and Betsy Hixon decided to become pirates.
Buying a pirate ship was no overnight decision. As a child, growing up in landlocked Georgia, Hixon played at being a pirate. He says an ancestor, Ellis Hixon, sailed with Sir Francis Drake in the 1500s. And it seemed like good business, too. The couple had a friend that owned a pirate ship business and raved about how well it did.
"He was obviously tired of getting dressed every day in his blue suit and shiny shoes," Barbara Knight says. "I always knew that one day he was going to give up his tie and become a pirate."
The Hixons spent five years looking for a ship before settling on the Treasure Seeker. They bought the Land Cruiser first, a giant ship on wheels, to rent out as a limousine. Four years before they bought the real ship, they were already negotiating with the Pier for a slip to dock in.
Don Paul, project manager at the Pier, says the pirate ship business is a pretty safe bet. Since the Pier started docking boats five years ago, not a single business has failed. Now, four different companies sail regularly off the Pier, including a dolphin cruise and an electric boating marina.
"People saw the development downtown and entrepreneurs started calling us," Paul says. "They all seem pretty successful."
The Hixons considered buying a smaller boat, but needed to be able to hold 125 passengers to get a liquor license. They almost resorted to having one custom-built. Finally, in early 2006, they found a man in South Carolina that was looking to get out of the pirate cruise business and sell his worn-down, 55-year-old boat.
True to their pirate characters, the Hixons won't say exactly how much they paid for the Treasure Seeker. But Tripp Hixon admits it was in the neighborhood of $600,000. Now, Ray's retirement fund floats on water.
"It's paid for," Ray Hixon says. "I'm broke, but it's paid for."
As the cruise sets off, Ray addresses the crowd, warning them only to stay onboard. At port, the Treasure Seeker smells of smoke and salt and gasoline. But as soon as it hits the open water, there's only the sea air. Pirate music blares over a loudspeaker -- "Forty Fathoms Deep" and the "Pirates of the Caribbean" theme song.
Tripp Hixon is the star of the show, looking like a fraternity brother on Halloween in a blouse, sash, flip-flops and baseball cap. He relishes the role, schmoozing with the women and provoking water battles, beverage in hand.
Before joining the Treasure Seeker, Tripp Hixon was third mate of the Bounty, a famous reconstruction of a British Royal Navy ship, on Tampa Bay. He played a dancing pirate when the SpongeBob SquarePants movie was filmed onboard.
Now, he appreciates the perks of his new job.
"This rocks, man," Tripp says. "The good thing about the pirate ship is that I can go out to the bar and meet ladies, and when they ask what I do, I'm like, ‘I'm captain of a pirate ship!' "
On the afternoon cruises, which are more kid-oriented, the Hixons hold limbo and hula-hoop contests. Everybody gets a fake tattoo and cardboard hat. They pass out squirt guns and Ray Hixon battles the kids in a pirate mask. Then they all look over the rail for dolphins.
In the evening, the atmosphere mellows. There's an enclosed lower deck with plenty of seating, but most people stay on the main deck. Ray Hixon flits around, checking on customers and helping out at the bar in the back of the ship.
There is an upper deck, but the customers aren't allowed up there yet. The Coast Guard needs to certify its stability, a test that costs $15,000. The Hixons tested the lower decks, then ran out of money.
When they first bought the Treasure Seeker, the Hixons planned to go into business immediately. But once they brought the ship into Florida, they had to pull it out of the water for a full examination. The Coast Guard told Hixon the upper floor was rusted precariously around the doors.
It was four months before they got the boat back in the water.
"It's just little things like that that will kill you," Hixon says.
In all, Tripp Hixon says the family spent close to another $100,000 getting the Treasure Seeker ready to cruise. They welded the floors and repainted the entire ship. They added fake skeletons, dangling lanterns and whiskey-barrel chairs they found on eBay. They scraped barnacles from the bottom of the hull and added a full crow's nest and mock sails above the main deck.
Then, they spent more money after a frisky couple broke the bathroom sink during an early cruise.
Asked if it was worth it financially, Tripp Hixon pauses, then slowly shakes his head no.
"It pays the bills," he says. "But that's about it."
Ray Hixon, though, is more confident. He plans to turn the ship over to his son someday, and let it support the family for generations.
His only regret, he says, is that he didn't become a pirate sooner.
The cruise comes to a close after two hours, but never really winds down. A couple of water pistol fights break out, and Tripp Hixon drenches a pirate wench with water from a tureen.
A guest named Nico, who like a true pirate refuses to reveal his last name, has a good time but scoffs at the pirate atmosphere.
"I'm the only pirate on this whole boat that actually lives on a ship and sails the seven seas," says Nico, who restores old yachts and works on a charter boat catering to tourists. "These are all my friends, but they'll turn green whenever they step on my boat."
Tripp Hixon pulls the ship into its slip, but the guests don't seem to want to leave.
"You would think after two hours on board, people would be ready to go home," Barbara Knight says.
The group makes plans to continue the party at a nearby Irish pub, and begins to slowly leave the ship. It's been a good cruise. Hixon says goodbye to each of the guests as they disembark, back to their lives as secretaries and customer service representatives. They are done playing pirates.
Ray Hixon gets to do it all over again, tomorrow.
