Pirates Ply the Shores of San Buenaventura

Real pirates were not nice guys.

They stormed merchant ships, captured the men aboard, raped the women, and looted the ship for booty to sell at port. To any sailor traveling the high seas before the late 19th Century, they were a mortal terror.

But on Saturday, the pirate mystique, romanticized and spiffed up for modern times, proved a big draw for the Gold Coast Pirate Festival, which attracted several thousand revelers to San Buenaventura State Beach.

“I be a pirate!” exclaimed Archie Lee Simpson, 41, of Burbank, masquerading as Alexander St. John, a pirate from Jamaica.

Simpson was decked out in black, from the black-and-white kerchief swathed around his head to the heavy shoes covering his feet. During the week, he is a Shakespearean actor, but on weekends, he is first mate on an imaginary ship called the Raven Heart, traveling to period fairs with nine other people who serve as the ship’s crew members.

“Aye, lass, it’s a chance to play at something and to be somewhere else,” said Simpson, speaking with an assumed Jamaican accent.

Renaissance and pirate aficionados accounted for at least half of the people wandering the festival grounds early Saturday afternoon, fair organizers said. Some paid admission, while others were hired to stroll about the festival and stage sword fights, play fiddles, ride Clydesdale horses, and cry “Ahoy, mate” often and loudly.

Some of the strollers also doubled as merchants, hawking wares such as expensive leather doublets for men, toys, wooden swords, women’s bodices, crystals and wrought-iron unicorns.

Most of the items were crafts and clothing the sellers made themselves.

“Four days a week I make sawdust, and then on the weekends, I sell people the leftovers,” said a maker of wooden harps who goes by Muis Dreamsinger, but whose real name is Morris Lieberman.

Dreamsinger used to be an actor and a security guard at Universal Studios, before harp playing and craftsmanship hooked him at a Renaissance fair 12 years ago. Now, he fills his days with carving harps and selling them.

“I don’t have time to go acting anymore,” he said.

Others also sell their talents. A few steps from Dreamsinger, Kahena Viale and Karima Seabourne, both of Orange County, read people’s fortunes--most of the time. Occasionally, they stop to “purify” their space.

Holding aloft an abalone shell filled with burning sage, Seabourne wafted smoke about the makeshift booth.

Sage “is a blessing herb,” Viale said. The women charge up to $25 for an elaborate, “Celtic cross” reading, but the general favorite--the enchanted Tarot cards--goes for merely $15.

“This is more about getting the energies around you to work” than about foretelling the future, Seabourne said. “A lot of people tell us they prefer us to therapists.”

The fair seemed strange to Peter Wade, 30, and Ross Griggs, 24, both of Ventura, who were biking Saturday outside the perimeter of the festival.

“Some guy just said to me, about my bike, ‘That’s a mighty fine mount you got there,’ ” Wade marveled. “That’s weird, man, ‘way weird.”

But inside the gates, Jim Vinson and Daniel Mills were having a great time. The 15-year-olds from Agoura Hills say they attend about two or three fairs a year--whatever they can get rides to.

“I think this is great,” Jim said. “It’s a fun place to hang out for the day, but I wouldn’t want to do this all the time like some people.”

“I think it’s pretty cool,” Daniel said. “I like historical stuff like this.”

The festival is a for-profit affair that cost Gold Coast Productions $40,000 to put on, said Cheryl Tolin, whose husband is a part owner of the company. The company recoups its money from selling admission, beer and sodas. In addition, vendors pay about $125 per booth, she said.

Altogether, there were 96 vendors and several hundred paid performers at the festival, Tolin said. Nonprofit groups such as the Earth Island Institute and Save the Ventura Pier set up informational tables near the fair entrance.

The fair will continue today from 10 a.m. to dusk. Admission is $8 for adults, and $4 for children under 12. There is no charge for children under 3.

Dave Boles, who owns a costume shop in Sacramento, said he is earning more money selling Renaissance garments than he did as an accountant.

“Truly, I got tired of my corporate job,” said Boles, faking an accent stranded somewhere between an Irish brogue and a Cockney lilt. “I traded in my suit and tie for a ponytail and an attitude.”