The Quest for Davey Jones' Locker. Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day!

Is there anything more freeing, more delicious, more, well...just more...than talking like a pirate? It conjures images of romance, conquest, salty sea air, and all that sparkly booty! It’s silly, it’s theatrical, and it’s downright contagious. No wonder we’ve got an entire day devoted to it: Yep! September 19th is Talk Like a Pirate Day.

So tomorrow, I say lean in. “Arrr” your way through those Zoom meetings. Call your your friends “scurvy landlubbers.” And when the day winds down, perhaps hoist a mug of grog (or rum, if you’re feeling truly authentic).

But here’s the fun twist: talking like a pirate isn’t just about laughs. It’s also a surprisingly useful tool for voice actors, especially when it comes to vocal warmups, breath support, and character practice.

Take Captain Jack Sparrow, for example. Johnny Depp gave us a quirky, unpredictable pirate whose vocal choices shifted from drunken mumbles to sudden bursts of intensity. And then there’s Geoffrey Rush, the brilliant actor who brought Captain Barbossa to life with growls, snarls, and commanding bellows. Both characters remind us that pirates are big. They’re dramatic. They live out loud.

That’s why pirates make such a perfect warm-up playground.

Practice Pitch Control: Try stretching your voice from a booming “Arrrr!” down to a quiet, menacing “shiver me timbers.” This back-and-forth forces your vocal cords to loosen up, much like scales do for a singer.

Try out Emotional Range: Pirates rarely whisper politely. They rage, they laugh, they roar with greed or despair. Playing with that range helps voice actors expand their expressive toolkit.

Play with Physicality: When you embody a pirate, you don’t just sit still. You gesture, you stomp, you lean into the words. That physical movement releases tension, which makes your delivery more believable whether you’re narrating eLearning modules or voicing a video game villain.

Consider Breath Support: A true “Avast, ye hearties!” demands a solid foundation of breath control. Practicing these big, theatrical lines helps voice actors sustain long passages of copy without strain.

So yes, cashiers may roll their eyes when you bellow across the aisles like a swashbuckler, but you’ll secretly know you’re sharpening your craft as a voice actor. Talking like a pirate isn’t just fun—it’s a workout for your instrument.Explore Character Development: It goes without saying that when you create a character you're unlikely

to meet in real life you can make them as big and bold as you like!

And since we’re already in the spirit, I’ve whipped up a pirate tale below. Voice actors, I invite you to warm up tomorrow, or today, or anytime you want to unleash your inner mutineer, by reading it aloud. And yes, I even recorded my own version! Put some swagger into your vowels, let your consonants bite, and don’t hold back. After all, pirates wouldn’t.

Shiver Me Timbers!

“Ahoy, mateys!” the captain bellowed from the quarter deck, spyglass raised to the horizon. The sun was bleeding into the sea, and the crew was restless. They’d been chasing whispers of Davey Jones’ Locker for nigh on seven moons, and not a single scrap of proof had they found.

“Avast!” cried Old Tom, pointing starboard. “I spy a skrimshander etched on that driftwood! A clue, surely!”

The men scrambled, eager as gulls at a fish market. For every carving, every riddle, every map that promised them riches, they’d only found empty seas. Still, the promise of booty, glittering doubloons, and legend kept them pressing on.

The lads were thirsty too. “Cap’n,” muttered young James, “we’ve but a drop of grog left in the barrel.”He waved him off. “We’ll drink the rum once we’ve earned it, lad. Till then, steady your hands.”

But trouble, brews faster than grog on a warm deck. A scurvy lot of mutineers whispered of turning back. “The locker’s no out there,” they grumbled. “We’re chasing shadows like landlubbers!” “Belay that landlubber talk, ye scallewags!! Savvy?” the Captain sneered.

Just then, a storm rolled in, black as ink and twice as cruel. The captain shouted “Hoist the colors!”

Waves crashed, lightning split the sky, and the ship groaned like a dying beast. The captain clung to the wheel, teeth bared. “Hold fast, ye cowards! Or I’ll see ye swim to Jones meself!”

And then—it happened. A whirlpool, monstrous and yawning, opened before them. Its maw roared like the devil’s own throat. The crew froze, eyes wide.

“Shiver me timbers,” he whispered. “We’ve found it.”

Davey Jones’ Locker wasn’t doubloons—it was a graveyard of ships, twisted and broken on the seabed below. And yet, he smiled. For what’s a true swashbuckler without the chase?