"Having a best friend on a pirate ship can be complicated." In this lively tale, Lasky shows not only the physical work and thrills of buccaneering but also the complex feelings that come with the job. Pirate Bob's best pal is scurvy-afflicted Yellow Jack. One evening, under a "rogue's moon", the two pirates and their crew attack a galleon and seize its cargo. As the pirates divide the sizable spoils, Bob feels pulled between his longing for Yellow Jack's share and his desire to be a good friend. Although the story is filled with appealingly silly details, it lacks focus, and some children may need help with specialized vocabulary such as grappling hooks and specie. Some children may also be startled by Bob's frank musings: "He wonders how much yellower Yellow Jack will get before he dies. And if he does die, it would be a shame for all that loot to lie buried forever." Clark's hilarious, captivating watercolor-and-ink illustrations greatly amplify the action and meaning in the words, though, and exaggerated close-ups of the pirates further humanize the motley crew. Children will enjoy the view of the sea bandits who are greedy and ruthless, vulnerable and goofy, and who yearn for true friendship almost as mush as a chest filled with jewels.

Pirate Bob and his shipmates live to loot. If the scar on Bob's nose itches, then gold is near. His friendship with Yellow Jack, a scurvy-ridden old salt, is a genuine yet complicated. After all, pirates are outlaws and they do not really trust one another. Pirate Bob dreams of hte day when he has put aside enough wealth to leave his dangerous life behind, and maybe make some true friends, too. This uneven book is one part history lesson, one part philosophical debate. The details of the pirates' lives are minute and impressive. From the description of a well-orchestrated (bloodless) attach, in which each man performs his task like a cog in a large machine, to the casual mentioning that Pirate Bob eats turtle, Lasky puts readers squarely in the scene. Clark's google-eyed buccaneers appear to be a fun-loving bunch, if slightly deranged. But the quieter, introspective moments in the book, where Pirate Bob contemplates his relationship with Yellow Jack and the nature of happiness, do not always gel with the organized mayhem of the action scenes. Children expecting a ripping yarm from start to finish might be derailed by the antihero's soul-searching. For a smoother blend of pirate guile and pirate heart, revisit Mem Fox's excellent Tough Boris (Harcourt, 1994).

Isn't piracy fun! Every ship's a happy ship as it trolls for easy pickings. There's loot to bury, hornpipes to dance, a wisecracking parrot for amusement, and a loyal mate to braid and tar your pigtail. By gosh, even the Roger is Jolly. At least, that's the way it's portrayed in picture books -- from Long's How I Became a Pirate (BCCB 1/04) to McNaughton's Captain Abdul's Little Treasure (reviewed below) - and underscored in toyland from Legos to party gear. Pirates packaged for the primary set are bumptious ragamuffins who, together with Wild West gunslingers and black-visored medieval knights; are rarely accorded the gravitas due to outlaws who wield their weaponry with malicious intent. Lasky and Clark fully understand the comic allure of this oeuvre and join willingly in its traditions, but they also gently suggest that buccaneering may not play out in real life quite as merrily as it does in paper and plastic.

Meet Pirate Bob, a seasoned hand aboard the Blackbird. More properly, meet Pirate Bob's nose, a truly riveting entity that spans the width of the opening page and sports a scar that runs from tip to ear. That scar is the direct result of greed and was acquired at the edge of a Spanish cutlass; it itches to alert Bob when gold or treasure is nearby, but it also aches to remind him of the occupational hazards of his calling. Bob's best friend, Yellow Jack, is a little worse for wear himself having turned "the color of a very pale lemon" from scurvy. They're as close as buddies can be, but "having a best friend on a pirate ship can be complicated" -- since they're both thieves, trust isn't possible. Yellow Jack worries that Bob only likes him for his money, and Bob can't help but wonder how soon Yellow Jack will succumb to his disease and leave his stash behind. When the British galleon Concordia crosses their path, Bob, Jack, and their crewmates terrify her, board her, and relieve her of her cargo, carrying out their specific tasks (Bob's adept at slicing the steering cable; Yellow Jack's an old hand at spiking cannon) with workmanlike precision. But when the night closes over a good day's labor and the crew revels in its ill-gotten booty, Pirate Bob is pricked with unease - not so much a guilty conscience as a vague sense that "he should feel happier." Yellow Jack has more loot than he does, the trade itself is risky ("you could almost get your nose cut off," and in the worst event, "you might be hunted down, captured, and hanged"). He brushes off these dark thoughts with a resolution to just acquire a few more pounds of loot and retire from the business. "Then Bob tells himself, I'll be happy…I think."

While Pirate Bob privately muses over these practical concerns, no casual observer could discern his misgivings from the goofy game face he maintains in Clark's rambunctious watercolor renderings. Bob, his diminutive captain (featured with parakeet Elaine on our cover), and the entire shipful of international zanies are everything cartoon pirates should be - comically bug- or shifty-eyed, raggedy, hirsute, and abounding in energy. Their victims aboard the Concordia are likewise as terrified and ineffectual as expected, with pasty-faced sailors huddling behind their pompous, bewigged captain, whose nose sits just inside the barrel of the Blackbird's captain's pistol, while Elaine-the-bird fixes him with an angry scowl. But alternating with the more vividly hued pandemonium of pirates in action are a pair of eerier spreads in which Blackbird sits stealthily with furled sails under a rogue's moon, awaiting its hapless quarry, and then, with patched sails straining, bird-of-prey figurehead threatening, and cannon poised to fire a warning shot over the bow, swoops down upon the slower Concordia. Nobody wants to be on the receiving end of this crew's grappling hooks, cartoonish though they may be.

Lasky and Clark leave their giggling listeners with license - even blessing - to continue playing pirate. But just beneath the vaudevillian swordplay and carousing lurks the notion that there's hard work and skill involved in taking a ship, and the gnawing suggestion that imperiling your health, sacrificing friendship, and dodging the law might be a price too high to pay for a disappointing box of bling. Clash those plastic cutlasses, by all means, but if a listing appears for employment under the black flag, perhaps you should consult with your career counselor, lawyer, and Mom and Dad before signing the Articles.

Surprisingly descriptive, thought-provoking text and a cast of goofy, grinning hooligans provide a peek into a career in nautical crime as a reflective rogue ponders pillaging — its logistical details, dangers and doldrums — and grapples with issues of greed, freedom, friendship and distrust.

Listen to the podcast of the review of Pirate Bob.