Two Danish vessels from the 18th-century evidently missed the memo that pirate fashion was so last season. Rather, they chose to pursue the life of the rogue seafarer off the coast of Costa Rica - at least that's what everyone initially thought. Sunday, however, the museum rolled in and claimed that instead of being trend-setting pirates, they were simply slave ships. A thorough inspection involving some soggy timbers, underwater bricks, and clay pipes (and a fair bit of snorkeling) was used to conclude that these ships were, in fact, Danish vessels, christened the Fridericus Quartus and Christianus Quintus, from the trend-challenged 1710s.

Now, the names Fridericus Quartus and Christianus Quintus sound like a rare tropical disease or Latin pop duo, but these were the names of ships - thanks, Denmark! Historical references state these ships joined Poseidon's fleet in 1710 and suffice it to say, they didn't sink because they were loaded with too many conservative bias or pro-Trump posters. The museum also provided snaps of Andreas Kallmeyer Bloch and David Gregory, who were seen blowing bubbles while retrieving underwater bricks and wood from the wreckage, clearly enjoying their soggy workout session.

Just imagine, Marine archaeologists David Gregory and Andreas Kallmeyer Bloch turning into Aquaman and his sidekick, swimming through shipwrecks under the Costa Rican sun, on Denmark’s dime. Now, apart from Danish history books and this article, no one knows exactly why ships named after a Latin boyband decided to beach themselves (or should I say, 'deep-six' themselves?) in Central America. But one thing’s for sure, they must have been yuge fans of underwater siestas.

In conclusion, in the battle of Pirates vs. Slave Ships, misjudgment ruled. But let’s be real, who hasn't confused a gaggle of tourists in aloha shirts for pirates? The real question remains though – was it a toilet malfunction that sent our Latin-named ships to the bottom? But whatever their story, we, the land-dwelling folks, salute our soggy, fish-kissing archaeologists for bringing us tales of these naval nincompoops. Now, don't mind me, I'll be on the hunt for Donald Trump's lost hairpiece in the Pacific next!