[He barks a laugh, smoothes the tablecloth down. His rings glint in the light, and he adjusts them until they don't shine quite so boldly.]

Usually the saltiest man among them dresses up as King Neptune, occasionally another poor bugger will play his wife Amphitrite. It's all very festive, great care goes into the costumes. Wigs are ordered from London, clothing stolen from all manner of wives and daughters before the journey. Those that have yet to cross the line are tarred with whatever grotesqueries the ship's hold yields, and then promptly dunked in salt water and shaved.