Dauntless Red: A Pirate Story

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The most fearsome pirate of the 1500s, Dauntless Red, could smell black powder on the air; he knew they were in for a scrap. Staring out from the side of his ship at his gathering foes he called to his First Mate, “Jose, get me my red shirt!”

The crew cheered - they knew this meant battle ahead. Jose raced to give Dauntless his red shirt, and moments later they were in a whirlwind of slashing swords and pistol smoke. In what felt like only moments, it was all over, and there was Dauntless, the better of twenty men, stood proudly by the ship’s wheel.

The pirates celebrated into the night and early morning, only to be awoken by wails from the crow’s nest that more trouble was brewing. Hostile ships gathered like storm clouds on the horizon.

“Your red shirt, Captain?” Asked Jose.

“And on the double!” Replied Dauntless.

The battle was fierce and bloody, but in the middle of it all, there was Dauntless, deft and lethal, a brawling acrobat with murderous intent.

The cries died down and there again was Dauntless, stood tall by the ship’s wheel. He swaggered down to the main deck where he cracked jokes and swapped boasts with his men, before calling Jose as he retired to his quarters.

As he went to wash and tend his wounds, Jose could see how many cuts he had sustained in the heat of battle. He was bleeding from a dozen stab wounds, and clearly in need of serious treatment.

“You see then, Jose, why I call for my red shirt? It is so that, no matter what, the men will not know if I have been wounded. In a hundred battles, not one soul has ever seen me bleed - and that is why they call me Dauntless. My shipmates will never have cause to fear, for they will see only the shirt, and not the blood.”

Jose agreed this was an extraordinary ruse, and no doubt had contributed to his legend. All the stories below deck were about the invincible Captain.

Then, fell cries from the deck broke the reverence. Dauntless and Jose scrambled to a porthole to see what awaited them. It was as if every pirate hunter in the ocean was cresting the horizon, the sails of a thousand ships blotting out the setting sun.

“Shall I fetch your red shirt, Sir?” Asked Jose, enthusiastically.

“No, Jose. For this, please fetch me my brown trousers…”

The Point of it All

I recently told this story to a colleague who has an inclination to project stress. In that person’s context - the lesson was that leadership often involves a calm exterior, and the management of others’ stressors. Very rarely do you do any good in leadership if you are the one contributing stress to your team dynamic! As Kipling said - ‘if you can keep your head while all about are losing theirs.’

Dauntless Red is the epitome of calm under pressure. He is so aware of the importance of broadcasting command of a situation, that he even has a special shirt for it. When I feel under pressure and in the spotlight I like to channel Dauntless Red, and put on my own metaphorical ‘red shirt.’ I encourage others to do the same.

I have not had need for my ‘brown trousers’ just yet, and hope I never do, but if the moment arises I hope I remember to pack them.

In the Telling

This is obviously a joke - structured in the classic way of repeating a plot point to set up a pattern and expectation, and then to subvert that expectation in a lavatorial way. People love that joke in all its forms. Given its humorous and low-brow nature - it’s perfect (although obviously to be used with caution) for informal one-to-ones or even small-group ‘Chatham House’ type conversations.