Dorian Lasseter

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.

As the small boats were making the crossing from shore to the frigate, Dorian closed his eyes and smiled to himself as they were borne upon the water, no longer treading upon land. He put a hand to his face and scratched his jaw, covered with two day old stubble and realized at that moment he had nothing aboard the Watch Dog to rid himself of the hair, not other clothes to change into. Two days or more in the same clothes were nothing new to the man, but these were finery, a newly purchased suit that had already experienced being soaked in a tropical storm and plenty more. Dorian had thought he’d be wearing this in polite company or to receive the same aboard the Lucy. All he could do was smile at the folly and give a sigh. Looking around at the others, Dorian noticed how worn everyone appeared. All seemed lost in their own thoughts until they were within hailing distance of the ship and Mister Warren called out.

“Ahoy the Saint Kitt!”

Dorian took in a lung full and was about to answer when William called out quicker.

“Ahoy the Watch Dog! Mister Warren, Some strong hands to bring aboard our wounded men, if you please!”

“Aye-aye Captain!”

He turned away from the rail and orders could be heard repeated on deck. Soon a score of men were looking down at the Longboat and waiting for them to bump along side.

Aye,

Spiking the gun is quick and puts the gun out of action for a time...

Depending on if you have someone who can remove the 'spike' without causing further harm to the touch hole...

You really want to put the gun out of action completely? Blow the trunnions off...

I don't believe many of these are GAOP... 18 century, aye.... some 17th C...

http://www.ingenious.org.uk/see/Societyand...wby=images&

Have a look at the 'alarm clocks'....

Captain Lasseter stood next to Joshua Wellings where he had been laid after the Surgeon had seen to his wounds. He spoke in low tones and Joshua responded in a weary voice.

“Feelin’ better lad? Surgeon fixed ya up well… got that ball outta ya an’ all.”

“Aye, sah… I’m… not much pain now… you found Ajayi… is he… he a’right?”

“He’s a might worse fer wear, but no worries… you just rest easy an’ we’ll be back aboard the Watch Dog soon enough… Miss O’Treasaigh, that is, Doctor O’Treasaigh’ll have ye fit enough yer gonna be on Forenoon watch, lad, right along wi’ Ajayi.”

Wellings smiled and a dry chuckle came to his lips, followed by a slight painful grimace. Dorian put a hand on the man’s shoulder and nodded.

“Rest easy lad…”

He nodded in return and the Captain crossed his hands behind his back. Wellings closed his eyes and sighed, then began breathing slowly. Dorian left him to his rest and walked past where Ajayi lay, resting as well. Captain Brand stood at a window looking out towards the ocean and so many ships at anchor. Dorian was going to engage him in light conversation but decided against it, instead he stepped outside and took in some air. The Surgeon was seated on a small bench just outside the building with her head hung down. As Dorian’s shoes crunched on some shell and gravel, she looked up.

“Doctor… fine work ye do there Ma’am… fine work indeed…”

She smiled and nodded her thanks for the praise and pushed a stray lock of hair from her face. Dorian nodded back and smiled as well and noted the fatigue on her face. It looked like all present company needed a well deserved nights sleep. However, it was doubtful they would get such, just yet. Dorian noted which direction the breeze and took a couple steps away from the Surgeon and took his pipe from his hat, knocked out the bowl and began refilling it from the tobacco pouch from his coat pocket.

There are some Gunners daggers/stilettos with lines on them to measure small calibre bores that I've seen/handled. Also there are some made in such a way to be used to 'spike the gun'... essentially stick the blade into the touch hole tightly and snap it off, this rendering the gun useless. This would be done before retreating and abandoning the gun.

http://www.rivkasmom.com/

Cool stuff here...

Since there isn't a 'for sale' area in the AIR SHIP PIRATES section, I'll post this here...

I've come across a small amount of lenses. Something to replace the dark lenses in a pair of welding goggles, or whatever.

Clear, polarized lenses, 2" in diameter, 3/16" thick.

I would think selling them in pairs would be the thing.

Price?

What sounds fair?

PM me for details...

The Lucy

The work of making port done with, and the Ship’s Master meeting on the Navarra with her Captain, the crew of the Cutter settled some. There was no immediate danger perceived, however the Master-at-Arms kept the marines on deck at the ready. Mister Flint was not about to make them stand at attention the whole time, but they were to keep themselves at the ready if called to action. They broke off in small groups, some sat on the great guns while others leaned on the rails. The rest of the crew, those on and off duty, prepared themselves for a quiet night. Young John Van Baerle had been off duty for a time and had come back on deck to enjoy some of the night air. He walked towards the bow, weaving in and out of the men and equipment on deck. John found a place along the rail and leaned on it, facing to shore. All the lights of the town and imposing fortress made quite a sight, and occasionally a sound made its way across the bay, singing, music or incoherent noise. He yawned all of a sudden and gave a shudder, causing him to grab tightly onto the rail. As fate would have it, it was the same section of rough that Mister Wenge had found. He pulled his hand away quickly.

“Vervloekt ben!”

Rubbing his hand he felt a stab. Sure enough a splinter had lodged in his palm. Tentatively, he ran his other hand across the spot of rail and shook his head. Immediately he set off to the Carpenter’s cabin, hoping to find the man or at the worst ‘borrow’ a blockplane or file and remedy the jagged section of rail.

Four Bells of the First Watch, Starboard Watch on duty

Since there isn't a 'for sale' area in this section, I'll post this here...

I've come across a small amount of lenses. Something to replace the dark, lenses in a pair of welding goggles, or whatever.

Clear, polarized lenses, 2" in diameter, 3/16" thick.

I would think selling them in pairs would be the thing.

Price?

What sounds fair?

PM me for details...