Dorian Lasseter

I smell a new Patrick Hand comic from that comment....

Wardroom of the Lucy Dorian studied Preston a moment before answering. He knew the man was yet to fully recover from his sickness. “Well, there were some deeds in th goods we got from ‘Lady' Ilex… Property on Trinidad, so we was headed there an’ now as a fortunate addition we be guardin’ the Spanish ta its port, Get paid fer goin’ where we were a’ready headed… Wot we do from there, heaven knows… mebee along th’ way we’ll have issue an’ tow another prize in ta port.” Dorian turned back to his meal, spreading some cream butter on a piece of bread. All were no more than a day old and still fresh. A pleasure that would not last long in the tropical region they were in and he savoured every bite along with the fresh meal. After taking another drink of the wine, some mirth was seen in his eyes. “So… if th’ wine is not to yer likin’ we c’n break out some rum r’ whiskey ta quench yer delicate pallet if you’d like…”

The Lucy As the ink dried from the last passage he had written, Captain Lasseter finished his glass and placed it neatly on the desk and studied it. It was a fine piece of French craftsmanship, that of the glass blower. He watched as the slightest bit of wine slowly pooled in the bottom and considered a second glass for a moment, and then disregarded the notion, unless it was had with a meal such as dinner which had been already served to the crew. Not that Dorian was famished, as a point of fact he was undecided on food at the moment. He turned to pose a question to Miss Ashcombe, but held his tongue as he saw her looking out the stern and wondered for a moment if she was having second thoughts of coming aboard. She turned slightly and the smile she wore on here face told him otherwise. Lasseter turned back to his ledger with a smile as well, wrote one more line and cleaned the pen, capped the inkpot and waited the briefest of time before shutting the book and placing it in its niche solidly. He drummed his fingers on the desk a couple times before deciding what his next point of the ‘business of captaincy’ was to be. He thought to order his Steward to fetch dinner for them and Master Whitingford, but instead made it a question as he stood and pulled out the chart of the area and spread it on the wardroom table. “I wonder where Preston is? It’s not like him to miss a meal… Would you be so kind to see if the cook has prepared our dinner?” He smiled at her as he spoke before heading to the desk and withdrawing his chart compass and ruler, and taking up the last notation from the traverse board and laying it all out in the unrolled chart Starboard Watch on Duty Two Bells of the Afternoon Watch

6 August 1704 The Lucy First Bell of the Afternoon watch At the change of the watch, Preston had taken the sighting and showed the yonkers how it all worked. They watched in fascination and might have even learned some of what was taught. It took a half turn of the glass to finish the calculations and soon after they had discerned where the Lucy was on the vast ocean. So now they would change course, to a more Southerly bearing which would be maintained for several days. Those who just came on watch were fresh and the change in tack happened smartly. Dorian smiled from the holy ground and leisurely headed to the wardroom, leaving orders with the deck officers to report any sightings from the lookout to him. Once in his quarters, hat and coat were removed and again Miss Ashcombe had attended to him, placing both pieces of clothing in their proper places. He sat at the desk quietly for a moment before turning to the labours of captaincy. Ledgers were pulled from their niches, an inkpot opened, and a pen selected. Pages were rifled through and selected to be written upon. Dorian hummed a tune faintly as he began and occasionally stopped while he tried to recall the past events in order to properly record them. Once his memory recovered the information he picked up the tune where he had left off. Some of this he had no wish to recall, but to leave it in the dark past of the last couple of days, but once it was put to paper he would have the option to quit it from his memory. Once or twice he had written a passage and put down the pen until he could steady his nerves, as what he wrote caused him to be angry. As the emotion passed, his tune returned as did the pen to page. At one point he stopped and made to ask Miss Ashcombe if she would get him a glass of wine. As if she knew his wants, she had been standing close with just that, a freshly poured glass that she now placed on the desk. “Thankee Miss Ashcombe…. Join me if you’d like…” He pushed away from the work at hand and took up the glass, gesturing to the woman, giving his permission to pour a glass for herself. Starboard Watch on Duty

6 August, 1704 Aboard the Lucy Seven Bells of the Forenoon Watch The Lucy had spent the last two hours or so sailing with all normal sails set. The crew had worked in good spirits and Dorian wondered if they too had been happy to quit the island of Martinique. The dozen less one Spanish sailors that had been berthed in the hold had been checked on by the Captain and between Maurice Roche and Charlie Marsh, good conversation was had, needs were met and once they had gotten into deep water, Charlie had served light fare to them. He was his usual grouchy self, but it appeared he enjoyed the praise for the food he got from those men, as if they were dining in the kings hall. It made Captain Lasseter wonder about the condition they had on Le Vedette. However it was not his concern as it was not his ship and these men were now in his care. Already it appeared they were being treated better, three of them soon after had the strength to make their way on deck without assistance. The breeze had gotten stronger, allowing a speed of nine knots to be achieved when checked at six bells. In one more turn of the glass it would be noon and the backstaff would be brought forth for the mid day sighting to work out their position. Martinique was still large in their wake, but much detail was gone. Dorian had found himself in several areas on the ship in this short time they had left port, from the hold to the quarterdeck and the wardroom and back. He had watched the Navarra and Watch Dog in his glass several times, seeing how well they were sailing in his wake. He had consulted charts and wrote notations from the markings of the log and traverse board. All the while he had a shadow in a green hat. His last trip to the wardroom took him to the cabinet where the navigation instruments were kept. He removed the backstaff and took it purposefully on deck to where the Ship’s Master stood. “Mister Whittin’ferd… Care you to show the yonkers how ta shoot the midday position? Further their education in th’ navigation o’ ships?” Young Liam Rowan heard the Captain and leapt up, ran over to the other boys and told them what the Captain had said. All four bustled over and stood at attention as best they could to see what the Ship’s Master would do.

Not that I've heard... I was almost contracted with the producers of the History Channel show, but they got all wishy-washy, said they wanted one thing, so I did the dance, then, no they wanted a different thing, I did the dance... then... No more returns on phone calls or emails... fancy that... I fear they got a Hollywood type pirate to do the bit.... No offense for the hollywood type pirates out there... but they wanted historical...

Interesting... Must be their answer to this show on the History Channel.... http://www.history.com/content/warriors

Aye-aye Cap'n Syren... Prayers and more...

The Lucy The Spanish from Le Vedette had to be helped aboard the Lucy as they were all injured from recent combat. Along with the supplies for them, Dorian had the men berthed in the hold, luckily for them they had extra hammocks. All supplies and men were stowed down before the Lucy took to hoisting her topsail and a jib, just to make way out of the bay. There was a palpable feeling of relief and exhilaration as they cleared the congestion of the port. Captain Lasseter had headed to the quarterdeck and gave a bearing to the helm of West Southwest a quarter West to gain some reach away from the island. He left word with those on watch to adjust the sails so as to keep the Navarra within long hailing distance for the next hour to make sure all three ships were on station for the first leg of the journey. Once that was taken care of, the Captain had the full crew assemble in the waist to be addressed. “I’ve assemble you to let ye know wot we are about… I’m certain you already know we sail for Trinidad as escort to the ship that follows in our wake, the Navarra… And as you know we have a number of… survivors… from the Navarra’s last consort, Le Vedette… They’re ta be put off at Trinidad as well. None are fit enough as of yet ta lend a hand so they are our honoured guests, treat them kindly… Those of you who speak Spanish will be called upon ta help with ‘em closer, hopefully some speak French as well…” He let that sink in a bit before continuing. “As we are the fore guard, we’re also the scout ship, reaching far forward and returning as much as necessary to convey anything that might be a danger to our employers so this ain’t gonna be a pleasure sail. The enemy’s out there, always… But we are the fox, not the chicken, nor the hound. Nimble an’ swift, crafty. If the hound should give chase… we’ll lead them off and make ‘em regret the chase. Lucy’s a good ship with a good crew, Aye?” “Aye!!!” “Damn right you are! Back to yer duties and we’ll be passin’ through th’ Dragon’s Mouth afore ye know it!” Wide grins were had by most as the men cheered and returned to duties or berths. Dorian stood a moment longer before heading into the waist and found Mister Pew and Miss Ashcombe. “I think we’ll have a good sail… God willing, all the way ta Puerto de los Hispanioles…” He placed his hands on the larboard rail and looked aft, seeing the Navarra and the Watch Dog with sails set and drawing. “Aye… a good sail…”

Dorian had his eyes closed and as the bells rung out the end of the watch he slowly opened them and was about to make a comment when he heard Captain Brand hail the Lucy. “Punctual as ever… Now begins the journey from this place unto the next…” Dorian quickly stood and straightened his weskit and coat front, adjusted his weapons and shook out his sleeves. “Miss Ashcombe… Preston… Make ready for a busy, busy day, I’ll be on deck if you care to join me…” He smiled at them both and walked purposefully to the door up to the main deck, grabbed his hat on the way and was through the door just as Logan Christie was about to knock. “Oh! Captain! I was aboot ta pass word ye was wanted by Captain Brand!” “Aye Mister Christie, his voice travels well, thank you though…” “Aye Sah!” Dorian walked to the waist and looked out across the water to where the Watch Dog floated, and there stood William, who upon seeing Dorian touched his hand to his hat. Dorian returned the gesture and called out to him. “Captain Brand! What have you to send me?”

Aboard the Lucy Word had quickly spread among the crew of the Lucy that they would have some Spanish crew aboard. At first it was met with curiosity, then shifted to concern and even something akin to anger or fear. Were they to be more crew added to the ship, or just brought aboard for the trip to the next port? Details had been lost as the scuttlebutt filtered through many of the men. Some of the crew held the Spanish in contempt, and were even grudging of the French aboard, while others tried to calm the rising voices toward them. Charlie Goddon stood at the combing of the main hatch listening to the men below, and to the more subtle talk of those on duty. He had been turning a coin over in his hand all the while as he listened, half focused on the chatter and half on the coin. After a loud outburst of cursing below he stood tall and held the coin up to the light. After all these years the old roman coin still looked perfect to his eyes. He placed it deep in a pocket and crouched, grabbing the edge of the grating on the hatch and yanked it open. “Avast below! Shut yer gobs til we hear the truth of it! No sense in getting’ all worked up like a pen fulla sheep who thinks th’ wolf is hidin’ in th’ barn! Cap’n will tell us th’ right of it soon enough so just hold yer tongues!” The silence that followed was absolute. Finally, George Cosset found his voice. “Oui, Listen to the Bo’sun mate, Aye-aye Monsieur Goddon…” Some faces looked sour, but heads nodded and the conversations turned to lighter things. George looked up at Charlie and knuckled his brow and Charlie slowly lowered the grating. He looked around on deck and noticed it was just as quiet. He grinned and pulled the coin back out of his pocket and walked to the bow, leaned against one of the timberheads and smiled into the sun as he looked over the Lucy’s rig.

Wardroom of the Lucy Captain Lasseter had turned to face whomever knocked on his door and before he could answer, or Miss Ashcombe could get to the door, Master Pew had entered. “Aye Preston… That’s th’ word from Capitan Avendano… Haven’t got a figure on how many as of yet, but they’ll be spread betwixt us an’ th’ Watch Dog…” Preston did no more than raise an eyebrow and run his tongue across his teeth before stepping deeper into the room and putting his hands on a chair back. “Miss Ashcombe, the ledger I had earlier?” Jenny nodded and retrieved the tome from where she had placed it, handing it to Preston. He nodded his thanks and opened it to the last used page and looked to Dorian. “There you see what we’ve agreed upon… extra stores and a further price for their passage. Should prove interesting to say the least…” Preston gave a sniff as he looked over the ledger and a corner of his mouth curled up in a half smile. Dorian did no more than lean his head back against the bulkhead and turn his face to the stern windows.

At first ‘Lucky Tuck’ was going to wait on Master Whittingford, but his gruff nature made him think twice. Instead he knuckled his brow and returned to the safety of his post. Once back on deck he walked a couple paces away from the hatch before stopping. He was a bit concerned for the Ships Master, all that coughing, and at one point he thought he saw some blood on the man’s lips. He turned to go back and check on him but stopped short at the hatch. The coughing was no longer heard from below. The Ship’s Master was a tough man… Mister Tucker liked him for it, even if it frightened him at times. Preston was the kind of man you’d want to have on your side in a fight, one of those men who you stayed a pace behind just so you didn’t get in his way. In many ways both he and the captain were kindred in that way. As Mister Tucker mused on this, Mister Aretineson walked up to him and saluted, giving him an odd look. “Mister Tucker… All’s well I take it?” “Aye…. Aye Mister Aretineson… I was just, Mister Whittingford… I’s waitin’ on th’ Ship’s Master ta come topside.” Tucker put on a calm expression and Mister Aretineson gave him a knowing look, but did no more than knuckle his brow. “Aye Sir… Great guns are in fine trim, incase we need ‘em…” With that he slowly walked across the deck and left Mister Tucker to his thoughts.

As the two Captains settled in the sternsheets they were silent until the men at the sweeps had them a cables length away. "That went quite well... Lets hope some of our crews speak Spanish, or some o' those men speak French er' English, otherwise this'll be quite the adventure..." William was nodding at first, then a slight look of concern passed across his face. "Agreed, another barrier of language would not do well, however I think we'll make due no matter the situation. Trinadad awaits us and I wish to put this island to my rudder as soon as possible." Dorian let out an exasperating sigh and agreed before turning to the figures in his ledger. By the time they had come alongside the Lucy they had come up with the maximum number of 'passengers' each of thier ships they could reasonably accomodate and hoped the number that would be given a berth was less than half, for the sake of comfort. As Dorian made the deck he turned and wished Captain Brand a good day. "Enjoy th' last of th' idleness William, I plan to... for an hour at the least I would think. Til we set sail, good day William..." He watched as the boat pulled towards the Watch Dog for half the trip and tuned his eyes back to the Navarra. He took in her lines and rig, again noting how low she sat in the water. Whatever she carried it was quite a weight. He furrowed his brow for a moment then shook the thoughts out of his head. "Nay, none o' ma'business... just theirs..." He smiled and tilted his face to the sun and took a deep breath before heading aft and to his sanctuary. He passed by the Boatswain as he went and casually gave an order. "Pass word fer Master Whittin'ferd... We're to take on some O them Spanish fer th' passage ta Trinidad and I want no difficulties..." "Spanish? Oh, Aye-Aye Sah!" The Captain continued into the wardroom, lay the ledger and accouterments on the table along with his hat and found himself on the larboard side of the sternbench, his back against the bulkhead. He propped open the larboard window and enjoyed the light breeze.

Wardroom of the Navarra Dorian had been taking notes in the ledger as they conversed, writing all that was to be done during the passage and making sure all was agreed upon. When the question dealing wth taking on some of the Spanish escort's He stopped and exchanged a glance with William, did some mental calculations as to space aboard their ships and wondered how many men were in question. It might make things tight, but other than that, it wouldn't be a problem, so he gave William a slight shrug and continued writin in the ledger. He only voiced one thing to the gathering. "That bein' th' case, you'll have to supply extra victuals for those men..." He left the statement hanging and returned to making notations, yet watched the Spanish officers for any issues that might arise from it.

As they bumped alongside the Navarra and hooked onto her chains Dorian shifted and made room for William to take the lead, heading onboard the Spanish ship first. He followed on Captain Brands' heels and they soon stood among quite a gathering of Spanish lace bedecked men. Introductions were made all around and the whole ensemble headed to the Wardroom for refreshments and to make final preparations for the journey.

"Aye Cap'n! Come alongside an' I'll be right there!" Dorian nodded and headed back to the wardroom and gathered his sword, pistol and other accoutraments. Miss Ashcombe had awakened and was proper, helping Dorian gather a small ledger and writing instruments. Dorian in turn told her of what was happening and that if all goes as was planned, they would set sail in a short time. The Pooka was now sitting no the deck chair watching them both. As Captain Lasseter turned to leave, he ruffled the cats' head once and was off. He arrived in the waist just as Captain Brand's small boat bumped alongside the Lucy. He turned to the Boatswain. "Mister Tucker, We'll return shortly... You have th' deck until Master Whittin'ferd makes an apperance." "Aye-aye, Capn." With the brief exchange Dorian made his way down the side of his ship and into the sternsheets of the awaiting boat. "William... Looks ta be a fine mornin' ta finally make our way from this place..."

Cul de Sac Royal, 6 August, 1704 Five Bells of the Morning Watch The breeze had shifted a short time before the greyness of dawn began to spread across the bay. Every ship on the port swung on their anchor to face the new day. Some had eased themselves with grace, while others protested heartily, as if they had been prodded by a bedmate to shift themselves. The Lucy and Watch Dog protested little as they had seperated soon after the frigate had arrived and dropped off the Lucy's captain and dropped her own hook onto the sea-bed. Their were those aboard who were so well attuned to life aboard ship that they awoke without being prodded to do so. Captain Lasseter's eyes opened as he felt the roll of the ship change. He found himself staring up at the overhead in the dim light, wondering how early, or late it was. Dorian remained as quiet as he could be, listening to the world around him. There was the sound of the ship gently rolling on the water, the breeze through the rigging, and some footfalls of men on the deck above. He also heard steady breathing from his Steward not so far away. All of a sudden he heard a small sneeze very close. Turning toward the sound he saw who had done so. It was the ships cat, the Pooka, sitting on the edge of the wardroom table looking directly at the Captain. Their eyes met and the cat slowly blinked, then yawned, raising a paw and giving it a lick before turning his gaze back on Dorian. All Dorian could do was smirk at the Pooka and shake his head as he rolled himself out of his hammock, step closer and pet the Pooka who rewarded him with a soft purr. After a moment longer the Captain stretched his shoulder and yawned as well, stretched his back some and rubbed the sleep from his eyes the best he could. The sunlight was strengthening, it was time to see what the new day would bring them. Starboard Watch on Duty

Bonjour Monsieur Le Grand... Welcome to th' pub... Enjoy your stay and make merry! Mayhaps you might wave to others on the pub across the english channel, or better yet, join them for a drink on some occasion... Bonne chance!

Aboard the Lucy Dorian had given a tired chuckle to Preston’s comment about being pressganged. “Oh no… never again, not this lad…” He was about to remove his coat when the door to the wardroom opened and in came Miss Ashcombe, burdened with a tray. Greetings were made and Captain Lasseter thanked her for the welcome. “Thankee Miss Ashcombe, tis good ta be back aboard… spent too much time on land with to many poorly bred aristocrats…” Again Dorian made to remove his coat and his Steward attended him, taking it from him and finding a place to hang it. She followed suit as he removed his sword belt as well. His hat had been laid on the table and was also retrieved and hung on a hook beside the exterior door. Dorian crossed the small room and found a particular ledger, selected a pen and inkpot from his desk, bringing it all to the wardroom table where he bade Preston and Jenny to sit while he did some paperwork. He wrote and made comments as he did so, fielding questions from the Ship’s Master for the most part and also noted an odd look from his Steward at the mention of Monsieur L’Ours coming aboard as a passenger on the Watch Dog. He wrote in fine detail about the events of the past two days until his eyes burned. Even with the help of more coffee and the bread and cheese he could not finish. Closing the inkpot and setting aside the pen, Dorian openly yawned before he could try to stop it. He was barely able to cover his mouth and apologized to the present company. “I beg yer apologies… just been too long a night and such. The only sleep I’ve had this night was on the stern bench o th’ Dog from Saint Pierre ta here. I wish to turn in for a time, hopefully time enough before we are ta make our way as escort. Do not hesitate to awaken me if necessary. Mister Whittingford, Miss Ashcombe…” The Captain stood slowly and both Jenny and Preston did as well. Preston bid a short farewell and made his way out of the wardroom, while Jenny cleared the table of spent vessels of coffee and a half empty plate of bread and cheese. She curtsied and took the tray out and to the galley. Dorian stretched again, placing his hands on an overhead beam and braced himself a moment before heading over to where his hammock was stowed. There he made himself ready for a nap, yet also ready to come on deck at a moments notice. He changed out of the fine breeches and into a working pair and made ready his old coat as well. Just as he was about to lay himself down, his Steward returned and asked if he might need anything else. As he did not, she again curtsied and made her way to her small piece of privacy in the Wardroom.

Deck of the Lucy Captain Lasseter had downed a third of his cup of ‘Nightwatch’ before feeling any affect from it. He had come aboard his ship from the Frigate and spoken with those officers on deck, soon joined by the Ship’s Master. By the time he had finished the brew he had learned all about the odd yet successful dinner aboard the Spanish Merchant and other sundry happenings. All was quiet and secure according to the Master-at-Arms and the reports from the lookouts. Dorian was pleased that his crew were working quite well together in such a short time. In a couple short hours it would be dawn and much activity would commence. The Watch Dog and her consort, The Lucy would escort the Merchant ship Navarra to Trinidad once the captains of the three ships had convened and made the final arrangements for the journey. His thoughts drifted some as the men around him gave their reports and the Captain knew his fatigue had not left him entirely. Dorian thanked his officers and pardoned himself, leaving an order to alert him when Captain Brand made an appearance, or any word came from the Navarra. Brows were knuckled and Dorian headed to the Wardroom so that he might write up what had transpired over night, and if time would allow, another short nap, and lastly to change out of his finery into working clothes.

Their glasses had been filled and drained one more time before their guest bagged his forgiveness and asked of what arrangements had been made for him to sleep. Captain Brand had only to call Miss Smith and she dutifully took charge, having Monsieur L’Ours follow her to his quarters. That left Dorian and William sitting, contemplating their empty glasses. “I s’pose we’ll make Fort Royal before dawn… I do believe that’ll be time enough fer a nap, a well deserved nap for us both… Ship’s in good hands and *yawn* I don’t think I could stand a watch without some rest…” William nodded and tried to hold back a yawn, but was unsuccessful. He shook it off and stood, placed his glass on the table and stretched his back. “Agreed. I feel as if I haven’t slept in a fortnight… I am a stranger to my bed.” Dorian chuckled at the comment and slowly stood, also placing his glass on the table. “When we make port, I’ll head to the Lucy, see wot Master Whittin’ferd made of the Navarra’s cap’n. I would hope Cap’n Avendano can wait til a decent hour to meet again. Well, nothing to worry about til we get there… Go… become fast friends again with your bed… I’ll do the same with a hammock of my choosing. Sleep well my friend…” Dorian put a hand on Williams’ shoulder as a parting gesture and a final goodnight was exchanged before he left the wardroom. Out of old habit he had not broken, he made his way the the QuarterMaster’s quarters and as he grasped the handle remembered again they were no longer his quarters. “Damn me…” Turning away from the door, he made his way forward and out into the waist, thinking where he might sleep, but the fog of his weariness clouded his mind. Dorian shrugged and headed back to the wardroom, He’d settle for a nap on the sternbench. Just after Seven Bells of the First Watch, Starboard Watch on Duty

Correct Mr. Bagley... The first true Uniformed Navy (English) was in the 1740s. Master Foxe and others have much information on this such as the slops contracts et all.

It was almost odd for Captain Lasseter, being aboard the Watch Dog at the moment. He had not been in command of the Lucy for very long, yet he already felt out of place on the frigate. His old quarters were now taken up by another, so he didn’t have a place to dwell besides the Wardroom. Maybe it was just his fatigue from the time ashore that made him feel that way. One thing he knew for sure, once he had taken up the offer of a scrub and a borrowed clean shirt, he needed a drink. The taste of pipe tobacco was on his lips and in his mouth, though pleasant it made his mouth feel dry. The crew were well into getting the ship’s anchor from the bottom and sails were being shaken out. Time to get cleaned up and have that drink. Dorian headed aft and below, found Miss Smith and ‘borrowed’ his old quarters to groom himself. A good scrub down and dry off, clean shirt, redressed and armed, he made his way to the wardroom to meet back up with William and Durand, who were already enjoying a bottle of wine and had a glass waiting for him. “Gennelmen… I see you know my mind. Have I missed a toast?” Dorian took up his glass and waited to see if a toast was offered from Captain Brand or Monsieur L’Ours before he’d sample the dark spirits.