Drunken debauchery is just one of the highlights of Gasparilla, or maybe it’s become the purpose. Somehow, over the years, this one of the largest pirate festivals has turned into Tampa’s Mardi Gras.
This year was my first Gasparilla, and there are only two things I was told about Gasparilla before going: Get Drunk. Get Beads.
What’s the point of these beads? You just want them, a lot of them. But the beads are short lived and lose their purpose quickly after the festival.
I didn’t understand it, but I got caught up. I ended up trading three beads—blue, gold and green to be exact, for one that had black skulls.
Besides getting beads, people were getting drunk. The treasure chests of Gasparilla consist of coolers and cases of beer. And we had a lot of treasure.
Someone stole our 24 pack of Bud Light while we waving our hands around in hopes of catching the shiny plastic.
288 ounces of golden Guinness, filtered through a Clydesdale, had vanished.
Jose Gaspar would be proud.
My friend was heated. He turned his back on the real loot and some scallywag took advantage.
What would Gaspar, the man that terrorized the Gulf, do in sight of unattended alcohol?
We are celebrating the pirate Jose Gaspar, who terrorized the sea, and reenacting an invasion
How can you really get mad at something being stolen at a pirate festival? You’re celebrating the life of a criminal and you want to play by the rules? Wouldn’t stealing be getting into the “holiday spirit?”
Apparently we weren’t the only ones who were robbed by some plundering pirates.
“Someone stole our cooler, so we stole this chair,” said some guy carrying a metal chair.
“Fools,” Gaspar said, but his words could not escape Davy Jones’ Locker.
