Olivia
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Loquacious Libations w/ Hatter & The Sage
@LoquaciousLive
lo•qua•cious - adj - tending to talk a great deal; talkative
li-ba tions - plural noun - drinks, usually referring to spirits
Yep! That’s us!
Joined October 2024
304 Following
103 Followers
379 Posts
It’s meme Monday! Let’s see whatcha got! Drop us your favorite in the comments…
…and JOIN US Wednesday @ 8:30p EDT to see what rum our fate has in store for this week!
#RumCocktail #RushFans #Rum #RockandRum #TikiCulture @rushtheband
The chart is spread, the riddle clear,
To choose the path we hold most dear.
South is a cage of calm and tide,
Where restless ships just drift and hide.
North is a gale, a wall of gray,
But the only way to win the day.
The Narrative: Chapter 15, Post 2 of 4:
With the map glowing, the reality of the transit hit home. Sage knew the ‘Real McCoy’ was Bill McCoy the legendary prohibition era rum runner out of Barbados. He looked at Hatter jaw tight. "Buddy let me explain this as best I can. We’re going to Barbados. Hatter smiled “Oh, that’s not too far”.
Sage: “Um Yeah, Listen. If we swing South, we lose the wind and get pinned by the current. We’ll be swept toward Jamaica before you can say Rumplestiltskin" Hatter nodded. "And the North?" Sage exhaled. "It’s a hammer. We’ll be clawing into the teeth of the trades at 65 degrees. It’s going to be wet, it’s going to be violent, and it’s going to beat the hell out of all of us."
The casual observer might see a simple southward cruise, but Sage knew the truth: a 32-gun frigate wasn't built for a dead upwind slog. It meant relentless spray over the bow, the constant groan of the rigging under impossible tension, and hours of grueling, bone-jarring labor just to make a few miles of progress.
It was short in a straight line, barely 100 miles, but they would need to sail 300 nautical miles. It would be a dose of the same hell they’d just endured from the BVI but this time on steroids. Hatter looked at Sage.
"The South has no wind,I guess to the North we go. Sage replied ”Brother, this is not going to be fun; it’s going to be a battle." Sage grimly barked for Clark. "Commander”. Clark asked “Are we sailing North?” Sage replied “Ring the bell & gather the men. We’re going to war with the sea."
👉 Tactical Update: The Loquacious is turning North. We’re heading straight into the teeth of the Atlantic trades to reach Barbados.
💬 When you know the road ahead is a brutal fight, do you warn your crew or let them find out for themselves? ⚓️
#TheRealMcCoy #BarbadosBound
The legend steps upon the deck,
With history hanging 'round her neck.
She lays a hand upon the chart,
To speak the truth and wake its heart.
A choice of path, a route to go,
Where southern winds or northern blow.
Beyond the reach of reef and shoal,
To seek the man who holds control.
The Narrative: Chapter 15, Post 1 of 4:
Flore stepped onto the deck, her eyes scanning the rigging of the Loquacious with a mixture of reverence, awe, and a haunting familiarity. She reached out and hooked her arm through Hatter’s. He escorted her toward the companionway, explaining in low, urgent tones the impossible circumstances that had bridged their paths across time and realms. Flore listened, her expression unreadable, acknowledging the weight of their story as they descended into the solitude of the Captain’s Quarters. Sage followed closely behind, absolutely scratching his head; astonished that this piece of history had suddenly materialized in their lives.
Inside the quiet cabin, Sage unrolled the map across the desk, securing the corners. Flore gazed upon the parchment, her eyes widening. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out to touch the unknown. The moment her fingertips brushed the vellum, the ink erupted into a swirling dance. As the ink reacted, Flore seemed to flicker, as if she were fading back through a shimmering wormhole between worlds. The map stabilized, revealing the next command:
Choose the peak where shadows lie,
Or northern waters ‘neath the sky.
The path you pick shall test your grit,
Where sun-drenched tides and currents knit.
Sail for the sands where legends toy,
Seek out the origin of the Real McCoy.
👉 Mission Update: We have our next destination: The map has spoken, but the choice of route—North or South—is now the defining tactical dilemma.
💬 North or South? If you’re sailing toward a legend, do you take the safe route or the one that tests your grit? 🗺️
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #TheRealMcCoy #Barbados #RumRunner #BrigandMagic #StLucia #CaribbeanSailing #OdysseyChapters #Storyteller
The harbor sleeps, the lanterns glow,
The tides of fate begin to flow.
A ship of ghosts, a crew of few,
A mystery waiting to break through.
An accent thick, a story told,
Of revolution, brave and bold.
The Narrative: Chapter 14 Post 4 of 4
With most of the crew ashore, the Loquacious sat quiet, guarded by a skeleton watch led by Master Chief Smithson—who had stepped up since the loss of Chief Wilmot in the raging tempest two weeks prior. Sage and Hatter took the opportunity to stretch their legs on the pier, the Caribbean night air acting as a balm to their weary minds.
As they walked the docks, their captain’s personas dissipated, and they fell back into the easy, ribbing banter of old friends. As they ambled back toward the Loquacious, they noticed a woman standing near their ship, looking at it in sheer amazement. As they reached her, she spoke in an accent of Antillean Creole: "Mween pa we’... I haven't seen a batiman like dis since the revolution."
The accent stopped Sage and Hatter cold. Somewhere in the recesses of Hatter’s mind, a spark leapt from the "Swiss cheese" hole where his high school history lessons were stored. He recalled the French Revolution, the abolition of slavery in the colonies, and the English invasion that followed to restore it. He remembered the emancipated people of St. Lucia who took to the jungle to fight—the Brigands. Hatter realized the weight of history standing before him and quickly asked the question: "Are you Flore Bois Gaillard?" A smile appeared on her face. Seizing the moment, Hatter knew it was impossible for this freedom fighter from the 1790s to be there on the dock for any other reason. He asked if she would care to tour the vessel; he knew in that instant she held the magic to touch the map and reveal the next riddle.
👉 Mission Update: We have encountered a legend of the Brigands. If she can touch the map, the next leg of the Odyssey is ours.
💬 When history steps off the pages of a textbook and stands right in front of you, do you hold your ground or reach for the truth? ⚓️
#Castries #StLucia
The anchor holds, the tension breaks,
The crew moves slow, hunger wakes.
But orders stay, the mission clear,
To keep the course we hold so dear.
A window short, a warning cold,
The tale of liberty yet untold.
The Narrative: Chapter 14 Post 3 of 4
The Loquacious sat silent in the Carenage, but the crew was vibrating with the desperate need for Liberty. Sage knew the signs—the restless eyes, the sharpening of knives, the hushed talk of Castries’ taverns. He hauled Commander Clark and crew chiefs into the Captain’s Quarters for a final briefing.
Having experienced one to many issues from tired Marines after a relentless couple weeks cut loose on Liberty, Sage knew the drill. He and Hatter laid out the hard reality: “We are holding port only as long as it takes to decode the next leg of their journey, “ Hatter told Clark & the chiefs. “Inform the men, make it clear. We will sail with or without.” "Enjoy the island," Sage said his gaze sweeping the room. "But don't lose your focus. As soon as the map speaks, we ring the ship’s bell & all of us will collect the crew and make the ship ready to sail. The second we have our heading, we gather & go."
After Sage was done Hatter leaned over & softly said “Surely you can’t be serious. You expect these men after that slog down here to just get up & go just like that?” Sage turned his head and in a low tone replies, “Sorry Bud but that’s the life one comes to expect while serving. Oh & don’t call me Shirley.”
👉 Mission Update: Liberty is granted, but the clock is ticking. The mission ends the moment the map reveals the path to the next distillery.
💬 When the crew gets loose after a long, brutal haul, how do you keep the mission from going sideways? 🥃
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #LibertyCall #Castries #StLucia #MarineDiscipline #OdysseyMission #SailingLife #CaptainSage #Storyteller
The horizon shifts, the peaks arise,
To greet the ship and tired eyes.
Between the points of land we steer,
The harbor calm, the water clear.
The grind is done, the anchor drops,
The long and weary journey stops.
The Narrative: Chapter 14 Post 2 of 4
On the final day, the Loquacious pierced the sea spray to reveal the coast of Martinique, marking the home stretch of the journey. A profound relief washed over the crew as they closed the final distance south to St. Lucia. Standing on the quarterdeck Hatter looked at Sage & Clark & said “At least we didn’t have to go back from whence we came. I pray we don’t have to cross that storm in the middle of the map again” I keep hearing that eerie voice on that album my parents played when I was a kid in my head playing over & over “The music is reversible, but time is not. Turn back! Turn back! Turn back! Turn back!"
The crew eased their tall ship between the two imposing headlands guarding the harbor. Vigie Point to the north and Tapion Point to the south. The wind fell silent as they glided into the Carenage, the historic, deep-water bay of Castries. It was a perfect, natural sanctuary, shielding the ship from the brutal Atlantic trades that had punished them for two weeks.
As the anchors bit into the harbor floor, the crew stood in a daze, watching the tropical sun reflect off the calm, protected waters of the Carenage. The grind was over; the party was about to begin. From anywhere on the ship Hatter could be heard singing “Celebrate Good Times Come On! There’s a party going on right here”......
👉 Arrival: The Loquacious is safely moored in Carenage Bay. The crew is exhausted, hungry, and ready to find trouble in Castries.
💬 You’ve just spent two weeks at sea with no harbor in sight—what is the first thing you’re doing once your boots hit the dock? 🍺
#Castries #StLucia #SailingLife
The trades blow hard, the swell is high,
Beneath a harsh and burning sky.
The canvas groans, the timbers strain,
To conquer all the wind and rain.
Two weeks of toil of salt and spray,
To reach the peaks of St. Lucia Bay.
The Narrative: Chapter 14 Post 1 of 4 :
As the Loquacious got underway Hatter & Sage sat at the captain's table. “Dude what’s with the duds. When I left you in here your shirt was ripped, your tibia was hanging out your jeans. Then suddenly everything is new” Sage inquired. “Oh, once I was healed, I headed down to the magic laundry/taylor quarters,” Hatter explained. “What, we have a magic laundry?” Sage hung his head shaking it. “I gotta get my clothes changed back,” Sage muttered. Hatter replied, “Oh & that place will take years off your looks too”.
The magical restoration of the Loquacious was a blessing, but the sea remained a cruel mistress. For fourteen days, they beat relentlessly upwind toward St. Lucia. Sage knew the physical cost of this slog well; he had spent years cutting his teeth on the short, unforgiving chop of Lake Michigan, where sailing East to West is a punishing fight against the prevailing winds.
The Loquacious was a heavy, square rigged 32-gun frigate. She could cut through the Caribbean swells like a razor, but the relentless tacking against the wind turned the transit into an endurance test. Every day, Sage, Hatter, Commander Clark & the crew Chiefs watched the men collapse into their hammocks in rotation, eyes bloodshot and bone-tired. The goal was the Pitons, but the toll was absolute—the ship was carving the energy right out of the men who sailed her.
👉 Tactical Update: We are deep into the transit to St. Lucia. The ship is holding, but the crew’s morale is hitting critical levels.
💬 Two weeks of relentless upwind sailing—what’s the one thing that keeps a sailor’s mind from breaking during the long watch? We say it has to be getting to the home of 🌊#ChairmansReserve
#SailingStLucia
The parchment glows with ink of gold,
A tale of St. Lucia, yet untold.
The peaks arise, the copper calls,
Beyond the reach of ancient halls.
Roll out the chart, the clues align,
To seek the spirit and the vine.
The Narrative: Chapter 13 Post 4 of 4
Sage, Hatter, George and Marie retreated into the solitude of the Captain’s Quarters. Sage secured the map with heavy brass weights and crystal goblets. When Marie pressed her palm to the vellum, the ink boiled into a glowing trail, revealing the final riddle:
Where twin peaks pierce the clouds of blue, and copper stills hold fire of dew. Seek the valley where the cane grows tall, to find the nectar that conquers all.
George and Marie exchanged a knowing smile; they recognized the riddle, but stood silent, waiting for the crew to solve it. Hatter looked to Sage, “I have no clue. You’ve fished these waters—any ideas?” A memory flashed in Sage’s mind—returning from Desert Storm, his honeymoon in the shadow of two towering mountains. “St. Lucia!” he blurted out. George and Marie chuckled, “How did you conclude that?” Sage kept his honeymoon memories to himself, grinning.
Satisfied, the Myricks turned toward the deck. Sage and Hatter escorted them to the rail, where a boat awaited to take them back to the Soggy Dollar.
George paused, turned & looked the co-Captains in the eye saying, “Good luck, boys.” Marie added, “You’re going to need it.”
👉 New Heading: St. Lucia awaits. The Pitons and the legendary St. Lucia Distillers are calling.
💬 The map has spoken. Twin peaks and copper stills—who knows which legendary distillery we’re hunting? 🗺️
The tempest fades, the sky turns clear,
To hold the truths we need to hear.
The broken mast, the shattered hull,
Were not the end, but served to lull.
The future waits for those who stand,
To lead the crew to promised land.
The Narrative: Chapter 13 Post 3 of 4
Sage, George, and Marie reached the deck, where the crew waited in active anticipation. Hatter emerged from the quarters, his compound fracture completely vanished. Collective relief swept the deck as the crew gathered around. Marie stared at Hatter in disbelief: “I guess the miracles never cease, do they?” Hatter chuckled: “They sure don't. I was staring down a cast & crutches plus weeks of physical therapy—now, I’m perfectly fine.”
George placed a steadying hand on Hatter’s shoulder. “You dwell on the destruction of your body and the ship. But look now: you’re healed, and this frigate is stronger than ever.” George took a deep breath, letting a pregnant pause settle over the deck. As the crew drew into a tighter circle like an old E.F. Hutton commercial, saying:
“Boys, listen close. Not all storms come into your life to disrupt it. Sometimes these tests come so you can experience and live through them—because they’re meant to clear the path to your future.” Sage and Hatter stood silent, feeling the weight of the moment, until Sage broke the tension: “Speaking of the future, we need to know our next heading. The map is in the Captain’s Quarters—we need to get to the map.”
👉 The Wisdom: The storm wasn't a punishment; it was a necessary clearing of the path.
💬 What's one "storm" in your life that cleared the way for where you are today? 🌩️
#LifeLessons #Storyteller
The veil is thin, the spirits near,
To banish doubt and conquer fear.
The modern glass, the precise grain,
To heal the soul and ease the pain.
The Higher Realms look down to see,
The future of our alchemy.
The Narrative: Chapter 13 Post 2 of 4
The previous day George had watched Sage working out the balanced formula of his version of the Painkiller with a mixture of reverence and pride. Heading out to the ship George told Sage, "Sage I got to tell you, Marie & I spent years serving 'liquid joy, as did Daphne Henderson & The O’Connells still do. But watching you work and think the process out, the scales, adjust the acids, emulsifying coconut cream with xanthan gum. It was enjoyable to watch. You’ve elevated the art of the cocktail into the art of science."
Marie nodded, an intensity in her gaze. "I completely agree, George. Sage replied, It’s not really me, I just read a lot, Jeff Berry, Martin Cate, Garret Richard are a few examples. Then, apply what I read & work on it until my palate tells me “Oh Yeah this is good!” Marie continued, “The modern mixologists of the Earthly Realm are refining the craft, imbuing it with knowledge from every sector to make it better. Now, Sage, don’t think for a second that the Higher Realms haven’t noticed—we applaud this evolution." Sage, looking a little bewildered, soaked in the ‘Higher Realms’ reference, starting to notice the theme revealing itself.
👉 The legends approve: The gap between 70s-era recipes and modern technical mixology is closing.
💬 When you refine a classic, do you prioritize historical accuracy or modern technical balance, or both? 🧪
#CraftCocktail #Storyteller
A wave of light, a purple glow,
Across the bay, the currents flow.
The timber shifts, the cannons wake,
A pristine form for history's sake.
The ship is whole, the guns are set,
A glorious dawn we won't forget.
The Narrative: Chapter 13 Post 1 of 4
The next morning, the exact minute the sun peeked over the volcanic hills of Jost Van Dyke, a frequency of blazing electric purple, gold, and white light swept from the East. It engulfed the bay and washed over the Soggy Dollar & the entire crew. The Loquacious groaned—a visceral sound of splintered timbers fusing and masts snapping back into place. Hemp canvas sails unfurled, fluttering in the wind as the 32-gun colonial frigate returned to its immaculate, glorious state.
As the light rolled over the sand, crates of provisions appeared, stacked uniformly before the Soggy Dollar Bar. Everyone stood still, soaking in the majesty of divine intervention. George turned to Sage, smiling: "I’d really love to see your ship. Marie and I were avid sailors in the Earthly Realm." With that, they loaded a dory and rowed out to the Loquacious.
👉 Tactical Update: The Loquacious is restored and armed. We are no longer just survivors; we are a force of nature.
💬 If your ship was suddenly restored to its colonial glory, what’s the first thing you’re stocking in the magazine? ⚓️
#SoggyDollarBar #Storyteller
LL - Rum Odyssey - Loquacious Painkiller https://t.co/3U8YYSuHhc
A text of science, a room of light,
To heal the broken in the night.
The juices stripped, the acids cast,
To mend the anchors of the past.
One final blend, a perfect draft,
To save the crew and heal the craft.
The Narrative: Chapter 12 — Wednesday Post 4 of 4
Sage got immediately to work with the inventory that miraculously appeared in the back room—a space packed with all the modern conveniences and advanced ingredients found in Dave Arnold's legendary book, Liquid Intelligence.
Just then, the recon sailor sprinted back to the bar alongside a full shore party from the ship. They immediately set to work as lab assistants, fetching ingredients as Sage worked at a fever pitch. He engineered the first experimental cocktail and sent it to the ship. The crew rowed back: Nope, not right. He built a second. The word returned: Better, but not total relief.
Digging deep into his chemical engineering brain, Sage realized he had to equalize the parts and balance the sugar. He locked in a third formula: The recipe allowed a choice of 2, 3, or 4 parts of rum depending on how good you want to feel.
Sticking with navy tradition, Sage sent out the first master build: one and a half parts standard Pusser's Rum, one half part overproof Rum, a solid helping of freshly grated nutmeg, and a visually spectacular tropical garnish.
It was magic in a glass. The moment the elixir touched Hatter’s lips, his blinding pain vanished, and his horrific compound fracture felt as if it were healed. A roar of cheers erupted on the beach. Sage, George, and Marie quickly whipped up the revised Painkillers for the entire shore party—instantly alleviating the aches & pains of every single scrape, cut, and bruise on the crew.
👉 WEDNESDAY NIGHT FINALE: History has been rewritten in White Bay! Join Us tonight 8:30PM EDT (Link in our Bio) and see how we modernized the Painkiller. Or Make it for yourself if you have these ingredients.
👉The Loquacious Painkiller Recipe:
1 oz. Coconut Cream
2 oz. Pineapple juice
1 oz Orange juice
1 oz. acid adjusted orange juice. Acid adjusted to that of lime.
1½ oz Pussers Rum
½ oz Navy Strength or 151 overproof Demerara Rum
Flash Blend all ingredients for 5 sec
Garnish with fresh grated nutmeg, pineapple wedge & skewered cherry
💬 Equalized parts juice and a heavy split-base of Pusser's and 151. The ultimate modern Painkiller is born. Drop a 🍹 Tell us what you think!!
#SoggyDollarBar #PainkillerCocktail
The timeline blends, the secrets clear,
To banish every mortal fear.
The ancient drink must change its form,
To save a captain from the storm.
A modern touch, a balanced hand,
Hidden inside this silent land.
The Narrative: Chapter 12 Post 3 of 4
Snapping back to attention, Sage quickly explained the brutal gauntlet they had just endured. He told them about the catastrophic tempest, the shattered ship in the shallows, and the desperate medical crisis: several crew injuries and a co-captain in agonizing pain from a severe compound fracture.
George listened intently, then gestured to the bar. "Well, you've come to the right place, Sage. Welcome to the home of the Painkiller."
Sage shook his head in frustration. "Yes, I'm familiar with the cocktail. I made it on the ship using the raw inventory I salvaged—four parts pineapple, one part orange juice, one part cream of coconut& two parts Rum. But it didn't relieve Hatter's pain at all. It was far too sweet and brought him no comfort."
George looked quizzical, but Marie stepped up to the counter with fierce determination. "Listen to me, Sage. We have every modern convenience you can possibly imagine tucked away in the back room. We have the tools to modernize this cocktail for the current day's palate, balance the sugars, and bring your friend Hatter the absolute relief he so desperately needs."
👉 WEDNESDAY LATE AFTERNOON: The creators of the Painkiller have just offered Sage a hidden, modern mixology laboratory upgrade. It's time to re-engineer a legend.
💬 Stripping away the cloying sugar to weaponize a historic cocktail for survival. What modern mixology trick do you think Sage deploys first? 🧪🍍🥥
#PainKiller #SoggyDollarBar
Out of the mist, two shadows trace,
A sudden shift in time and space.
They call his name, they know his face,
Inside this empty, silent place.
The hands that built the shelter high,
Beneath a strange, distorted sky.
The Narrative: Chapter 12 Post 2 of 4
Suddenly, Sage caught a flash of motion in his peripheral vision. He called out, thinking it was his recon sailor returning early, but there was no answer.
Then, reality fractured. A man and a woman materialized out of thin air through a shimmering temporal shift, walking calmly across the white sand. As they neared the deck, the man raised a friendly hand and waved warmly to Sage behind the counter.
Arriving at the bar rail, the man smiled. "I'm so glad to see you. It's been so long." The woman beside him picked up right where he left off: "Sage, you are our miracle."
Sage’s jaw dropped. Someone from the higher realms knew his exact name again without being told. In an instant, his memory clicked. He stared at the couple in absolute shock. "I can't believe my eyes... Are you George and Marie Myrick?"
A warm smile crossed Marie's face as George chuckled. "Why, yes, Sage. I am George, and this is my wife, Marie. This is the place we built. The place we put on the map."
Sage stood completely dumbfounded. How in the world am I here? George snapped his fingers in front of Sage's frozen face, and Marie smiled gently. "Sage, are you with us? It looks like you've got some serious problems on your hands. How can we help?"
👉 WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON: The legendary founders of the Soggy Dollar Bar have just stepped through time—and they are ready to help.
💬 Meeting the historical legends who built the very spot you're standing on. What's the first emergency you ask George and Marie to help you solve? ⏳🏝️
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #SoggyDollarBar
A silent shore, a ghost-town bay,
Where golden sunlight starts to fade.
The counter bare, the rooms are cold,
No modern stories to be told.
But look ahead, the shadows gleam,
To shatter the captain's perfect dream.
The Narrative: Chapter 12 Post 1 of 4
Although Sage was ecstatic to make landfall miraculously in the exact right place on the map, the triumph quickly turned to unease. There was nobody to be found. The legendary stretch of sand was entirely deserted, filled only with the faint sound of songbirds and lapping waves.
Sage walked up to the iconic robin's egg blue building of the Soggy Dollar Bar. He checked behind the bar and searched the back storage room. Not a soul. He and his two crew members started calling out into the stillness, but they came up completely empty.
Realizing time was wasting with Hatter injured back on the ship, Sage sent one sailor paddling back to the frigate and ordered the other to push inland to recon the area. But the moment he was left alone, the atmosphere shattered. As Sage poked around the empty bar, the air shifted instantly, dropping a freezing 15 degrees in a single second. His tactical instincts flared. He immediately knew something was afoot.
👉 WEDNESDAY MORNING OPENER: They found the coordinates, but the island is a ghost town and a sudden, freezing supernatural anomaly has just locked onto Sage.
💬 Left completely alone in a freezing, empty beach bar. What—or who—do you think is stepping out of the shadows next? 🥶👁️
#LoquaciousRumOdyssey #SoggyDollarBar
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