Dorian Lasseter

The Lucy The snow continued on its course for a time then faltered some. Captain Lasseter watched this and commented on it as he passed the glass to the Ship’s Master. “Sails luffed a bit, whoe’er on th’ tiller ‘s lettin’ her slide… Still ain’t seein’ colours er much movement aboard… “ Dorian rubbed the back of his neck and stretched his shoulders, taking a look around the Lucy and beyond. It was then he saw that the crew of the Navarra had acted too hastily. They had run up the great empire of Spain’s flag. “Deargamadán!” Preston took his eye from the glass and turned to see what the Captain made such an exclamation about. “Wot’s ‘iss Dor-“ “The Bloody fools run up the Spanish colours! Deargamadán! The fool! Well now, we’ll see wot our ‘guest’ does… Nigel, bend th’ French colours ta th’ line if you please…” “Aye Sah!” Dorian just stood and glared at the Navarra and at the snow to see what the next move might be.

Aye, good information all around... Still lacking in some respects, but not for lack of trying. The one link talks of making fishing line out of hair... but I see that as only so good, mainly for fishing streams, rivers and lakes for smaller fish. Nets and such used are known, but I can't see sailors encumbering a ship with fishing poles... In my mundane lifetime, I've fished with several different poles, and just a line with a hook. I would think a hook and line would be ideal for a sailor to have in a seachest. If I still have the thing, I'll take a pic of it and post it, but it was just a square frame about 3-4 inches that the line wrapped around. Add a hook and maybe a cork bobber... Just still need to know what would be used for the line...

I'd be all for it... As you say, the Mercury Crew has become established well enough that it has been officially recognized and invited to other events. Excellent...

Had a though while reading... I've read where during doldrums and whatnot that sailors fished... What did they use? I've seen nets for hauling a large catch if possible, but what about a single line? I've even read an instance where a crew baited a hook with a '4 pound hunk of beef and caught a 100 pound fish'. How big was the hook and what was the line? I'd like to maybe add a small fishing kit to my gear, but what would it consist of?

Aye Mistress, I would have a chocolate and a muffin or scone if possible? Thankee kindly...

Quarterdeck of the Lucy Captain Lasseter kept his glass trained on the snow for some time. She was still too far away to tell what her intentions were, but her course continued to bring her across their path. His gut told him that it would be prudent to be ready for a fight, so in a very casual tone he addressed his officers. “Preston, head forward’n find the Master Gunner an’ ‘is mate… Have ‘em ready our guns wi’ canister if you please, and do so quietly… “ “Aye Sah!” Master Whittingford knuckled his brow sharply and did as commanded. Dorian took that time to draw his eyes from the snow and turn to look aft. There the Navarra sailed in the Lucy’s wake, and the Watch Dog was back there somewhere in the darkness. Putting the glass to his eye, Dorian scanned the Navarra and saw the crew who were about seemed agitated. Looking harder he noted a man with a glass pointed his way, so he took up his hat and gave a wave of it as a greeting. The man lowered his glass for a moment, paused, then sighted through it again. He continued to look at the stern of the Lucy for a moment more until another engaged him in conversation. All seemed well enough there so Dorian began to search for any sign of the Watch Dog. A good ten minutes later he could not see any sign of the frigate hiding, but he knew she was there, somewhere. The rumble of great guns being moved on the Lucy’s deck caused Dorian to end his searching. He looked forward to see many of the men hard at work, but in a slightly comical way. Each man was doing their utmost to be extra quiet, padding about on tip-toe and making faces when the level of noise rose at times. Men whispered harshly at each other and gestured wildly at times. Captain Lasseter almost laughed out loud. “Oh yes, we are quiet as church-mice, but we shall roar as lions if we are crossed…”

Sea Chest Refurb... Aside from the lack of a lock, I'm still hoping to pick up a half mortise lock for it, the chest is 'done' - for now... These things are never really done, now are they? I also made a smaller, more typical sea chest, just need to make or have made some beckets to finish it properly... Not that it is 'done'... Best part, it fits perfectly for transport...

Quarterdeck of the Lucy As Captain Lasseter had turned back to look at the following consort ships, he noticed something peculiar. Was it a trick of the weather or were lights on the Watch Dog going out? “Preston, bring the glass hither, quickly!” Master Whittingford did as ordered and stepped lively, putting the spyglass in Dorian’s outstretched hand. The Captain laid it to his eye and focused it on the Frigate in their wake. A smile slowly spread on Dorian’s face and a low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “William… you devil…” The Ship’s Master had stood fast and now wore a questioning look on his face from the comment from Lasseter. “Cap’n, Sah?” “He’s dowsing the lights on the ‘Dog… making it look ta be just a wee cutter escortin’ the Navarra… If that snow has a mind ta try n’ make a profit from us…” Dorian started chuckling again…

“Aye Lad… drop some canvas… we’ll slide astern an’ let th’ others close in… no need ta cause alarm just yet…” Dorian paced to the sternpost and looked across the waters to the Navarra and Watch Dog as orders were carried out to dowse some sails, slowing their forward progress to Trinidad. He looked to the unknown ship and shook his head slowly at it. "Three things it is best to avoid: a strange dog, a flood, and a man who thinks he is wise…”

The Captain of the Lucy contemplated a moment before turning back and putting the glass to his eye. He caught sight of the ships lanterns and their brightness was enough to make out a couple of details. A brig or snow, no flag of nation flying, most of her canvas set. He couldn’t see if she had gunports, and if she did, none were open. Dorian slowly lowered the glass and put a hand on the rail, slowly drumming his fingers on it. “Could very well be a merchant brig… can’t tell th’ cut o’ her jib in the dark an’ she ain’t flyin’ colours… Mayhaps you c’n see if she has gunports, or mebee she’ll get closer… If she does start runnin down on us, we’ll clear fer action – quietly as we can… Also drop some canvas an’ let the Navarra n’ Watch Dog close in so we’ll be quite a deterrent. Much as it would be grand ta run a British merchant down, our first order is ta protect th’ Navarra…” He held the glass out to Preston so that he might have a look and possibly express his opinion.

The meal finished, Captain Lasseter had leaned back in his chair and smiled at the calmness. The thought of a peaceful voyage to Trinidad crept into his mind. At the thought he felt a twinge and was about to set it right by knocking thrice on the table when a cry was heard from the lookout of a sail being sighted. “Damn it all ta… My apologies… “ Dorian quickly stood and took up his coat, hat, and arms that had been laid aside and just as quickly left his Steward in the Ward Room and was on deck. He was straightening his coat as he stepped upon the Holy Ground and came to face Mister Brisbane. “Where away is the ship that’s been sighted?” Nigel had been saluting and made one fluid motion from knuckling his brow to pointing where the lookout had signaled. As Dorian took up the glass, Master Whittingford climbed the stair to his side. Without looking at him, the Captain addressed the Ships Master. “Preston… what d’ye make of it?”

Tobacco Coast: A Maritime History of Chesapeake Bay in the Colonial Era by Arthur Pierce Middleton http://www.amazon.com/Tobacco-Coast-Chesapeake-Paperback-Bookshelf/dp/0801825342 Quite informative and not a dry read.

Here's a place all the SteamPunk folks need to move to; Steamtown, PA http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steamtown_National_Historic_Site Granted, it's centered around the railroads, but... imagine a conversation at an event... "Hello there fellow Steampunker, where are you from?" "Steamtown..." "Haha! that's great! really, where are you from?" "Uh, really.... Steamtown, PA..."

Michael, You guys did a great job on the camp table! Excellent!!! Something to add, the unit I'm attached to for F&I sets up a Tavern at events and use those exact tables and benches. As beautiful as yours is being stained and varnished, it would be more appropriate, or I should say easier/cheaper/more common for such to be painted. More permanent or higher class furniture is varnished and such for the upper class. Here's an image of the Tavern at Fort Niagara, you can see some of the tables/benches...

Will it Blend? http://www.willitblend.com/videos.aspx LOL

Wardroom of the Lucy His smile faded some when his Steward declared his life at sea as ‘most fortunate’, for she did not know of the hardships he had faced under the rule of Old England. Dorian sniffed sharply and drank from his glass, savouring the drink for a time before swallowing slowly. “Life at sea for me has been… adventurous… aye, at times fortunate, and other times quite dark… And you will indeed learn more than just the musket while we sail… Such as yer duty as Steward aboard a fighting ship… and in yer spare time, whenever that might be, most anything else that might be available… “ Captain Lasseter turned to his meal, enjoying the sharpness of some cheese that complimented the wine. He noticed she had not yet taken up her spoon, so prompted her with more talk. “Enjoy th’ fresh victuals while ye can… in a fortnight’s time this simple stew will be remembered as fare served in the best Inn.”

Standing back and admiring a just finished project, well done...

I'll go to the eastern crew... if we can communicate well enough, find out their story and maybe we can get it together, see what we can do to get off the island, maybe on a captured ship. Feed them if there's time so we're all strong enough to fight if needed.

Mostly finished... Need to figure out a lock, it originally had a half mortise lock... if I can find a good one for a reasonable sum with a proper looking key... Still might paint the inside of the lid and might touch up some spots inside with varnish. Here's my inspiration;

Wardroom of the Lucy The Captain was slightly taken aback by her question. He pursed his lips and tried to hold back a grin but failed and laughed aloud. “Pardon my outburst… I… Oh my… I was not schooled formally as one might think… Oh, where to start… Most of my learning has been aboard ships…. Many on long journeys with time to waste between work, if you can believe that… And I was lucky enough ta have those whom I would call scholars in my midst. I learned much from those around me…” He stopped to refill their glasses before continuing. “I was drawn into the English sea forces and at one point was under a king of men disguised as a captain… He valued me for my skills and even added to my ‘schooling’. I’ve learned quite a lot on my own time. So, my formal schooling was in shipyards as a lad, and on shipboard as a young man… So… my schooling was neither in England nor France… but close by in the waters that surround…” Dorian took another drink of the wine appreciatively and smiled a crooked smile at his Steward, wondering what she now thought of her Captain.

“Aye… the wine… bottled in 1694 in Medoc, I believe that’s what th’ chandler said from whence I bought it…” Dorian took another taste and savoured the flavour, then gave a short laugh. “I sound like some highbourne git, as if I know so much about such things… Am I correct to remember that you lived on one of th’ plantations on Martinique? How was the wine cellar of your… Uncle?” He returned to his meal and let the question hang in the air for Miss Ashcombe to answer.

So, I sat back and watched them... Since I got the impression they are slavers, I let them go on their way, none the wiser... Two ships heading for my wee island, eh? I feel the same as Pew, I'll take my chances with the ship coming from the east... Watch 'em well and if they're any signs of the Dutch Flag, I'll make my way to see about the Western ship, again being very wary...

Dorian had watched his Steward set out the evening fare for him and noted her flushed skin and slightly damp hair. The weather was fair and the wind fine, so he stepped over to the table and reached above, unsecuring the skylight and propping it up some three inches. Turning from the table and to the sternlights, he propped the cornermost ones open several inches as well, allowing a gentle breeze. The meal smelled hearty and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of being filled. He was about to sit, but noticed Jenny stood as a servant waiting for their master to dismiss them. This would not due. “Miss Ashcombe… I do my best to run a tight ship, to a point… Please sit…” She hesitated, and Dorian held out a hand indicating a chair at the table. Jenny sat demurely with her hands in her lap, not knowing what it was he wanted of her. Her eyes widened when he sat in his chair and poured a glass of wine, setting it in front of her. “A tight ship, but not a slave ship… You’ve not told me much of yer past, but I feel you were much a servant to a not so kind master? I’ll not have that… Aye, you are positioned as my Steward, which could be seen as a servant… I will give you orders and expect you to do certain duties, but not ta be one who hovers in th’ background, cleaning up in my wake. If you so wish I would be pleased if you would share the meal at my table…” Dorian poured himself a glass and held it in such a way as to prompt her to take up her own, to which he gentle touched his to hers and nodded but once before sampling the French vintage. “Hmm…. 1694 was a good year…”

I couldn't help but post this... http://www.plasma2002.com/blenderdefender/ Too damned funny...

I propose we all raise a glass to him... The Man... The Myth... The Legend... Errol Flynn... Some Jamesons will be had in his memory this eve. Slainte!!!