From both ends of the maritime spectrum, the pigs are calling for their destruction!
The pleasure boaters waving to you as they speed by, the roar of their outboard the only thing loud enough to mask their joyous song. The working stiffs—you know they're true Sons of the Sea by the beard-with-no-mustache whisker configuration, not to mention the eyepatch—pouring themselves another mug of java as they prepare to push off for the day.
Taken together, these two captains represent what we could call the Argument from Opposites. (We've seen the gambit before—here, for instance, and in a less focused form here.)
This rhetorical stratagem insists that if representatives from both ends of some continuum support a given proposition, then the proposition is, by default, proven.
If high-born animals and proletariat animals agree that barbecue, for instance, is not a threat to them, but instead is a reward, then it must be so.
For don't they both smile?
Don't they both—don't they all, every sailor in Neptune's realm—find meaning and purpose in their stations, lowly or lofty as they may be?
Whether leaving from docks or the piers reserved for Peers, pigs want to die. It's just how it is.
With all the evidence that has been marshaled to support this position, there's just no point arguing.
Addendum (12/05/10): More pigs-and-boats fun! Don't panic: this one's got his own barbecue fork! Hang on, chicken—it'll all be over soon!