Day 85: Franklin, Tennessee. We sailed up the Harrrpeth River when our barquentine started to take on water near a farm called Harrrrlinsdale. Upon swimming from the deepest depths of the Harrrrpeth, we heard the dulcet tones of tunes coming from various stages scattered around the acres, and they were calling this the Pilgrimage Festival. We took refuge at the Lil’ Pilgrims stage welcomed by the benevolent and extremely talented power popster Ralph Covert of a nation known as Ralph’s World. After pressing some young pirates into service, we disguised ourselves as locals and wandered the grounds, listening to much great music. With our ship some forty fathoms beneath the surface of the Harrrpeth, we have decided to sing once again tomorrow at the hour of 1pm. Upon completion of our duties, I am to till the fields using an amazing horseless plow called a “tractor”. As I have no talent for farming, I’m hoping our ship resurfaces soon.