Dorian Lasseter

I would think a pipe of some sort, penny whistle, flute, etc wouldn't be out of place as well... nice and compact, but would it be allowed because of the possibility of confusion with the boatswain's call?

In a tavern, in a fine establishment, you might see an harpsichord (sp?)... Maybe?

A couple years back at an F&I reenactment, some of my compatriots gave a concert. It consisted of three Violins, a Viola (I think) and a drum. It was quite nice. And, if you like Baroque music, I suggest Red Priest http://www.piersadams.com/RedPriest/

Alright...

$70...

Or best offer or trade...

Aye, thank ye folks for the kind compliments, I am very happy that you are pleased with your cartridge boxes! As an added note, I try to get them made as quickly as I can, but it's just me making them all by hand, and it gets hard sometimes wrestling the orders around my mundane job and family and other stuff, but my pledge to all the brethren is that I will ALWAYS fill your orders as fast as I can...I will NOT forget anyone! That's a promise! Thank you all for your business, I sincerely appreciate you all!

Well...

As I have been waiting over two years for my order...

And more than one promise that I'll have it ' in a week or two'...

Several PM's on here that have been read and not replied to...

You be the judge...

Oh Lardy...

Beware! Give a wide berth ta that one!

Hehehehehehe...

Congratulations Captain Cross!

HUZZAH!!!

No?

No takers?

$80 or best offer/trade?

Grand images!

other little items of note...

Does he have slash pockets in his wesket? just above the butt of his knife, it looks like a straight line like a pocket opening. Look at the print of his Slops! Not stripes or solid, but a print!

And he's got britches on under the slops too.

PoD, the little square bottles would be Gin bottles. Gin was a very cheap to make spirit in period... Tell that to Tanguray!

Edward,

Another fine chest from your shop! Wonderful work!

William, you lucky Sea-Dog...

Huzzah to you both!

Patrick's correct, treated canvas, either painted with an oil base paint, or something like Thompson's water seal, makes the canvas heavy. Unless you use some very light weight canvas, which I'm not sure how well that'll hold up to wear n' tear...

As for plastic tarps, go to the hardware store and see if you can get a roll of 5 mil plastic sheeting... I've used it at work and we bought it in 10 foot wide by 200 foot length rolls. That under your canvas will work better than the woven tarp material...

YMMV...

Yrs & c,

Dorian

I have a wesket that was professionally sewn (machine) for me several years ago but not finished, no button holes or buttons.

Dated 1730-50s pattern, not period material for the outer layer, cotton muslin inner. Fully functional pockets. slightly musty from being hung in the back of a closet for a couple years...

Size 42-44

Asking $90, obo or, maybe a trade for something...

Lets see...

My favourites...

One folding, lock-back pocket knife

One sgian dubh

One sailor's knife

And I'm liking an Adola Sailors Knife as well... need to pick up one or two...

http://www.knivesandtools.com/en/pt/-adola-sailors-knife.htm

Fothering a sail was not an easy task in the best of conditions, but the sense of urgency made for quick hands. Tucker and Goddon had plunged below and had gathered what hands they could to sew with the sail needles and yarn to prepare the sail. It still took nearly a turn of the glass to cover an area of the sail to Tucker’s satisfaction, but once it was accomplished they hauled the canvas on deck and called for the Carpenter for direction. The Captain smiled as he watched his men in action and didn’t really seem concerned when the Ship’s Master appeared at the rail next to him.

“They’s doin’ a fine job Preston… Lets hope we live to give ‘em all a fine reward!”

Preston coughed roughly before answering with a nod and a horse ‘Aye, sah!’ Dorian turned to him and was about to chide him for disobeying his request to stay below out of the weather when he noticed all four of the boys aboard standing beside Mister Whittingford encumbered with nearly every lantern that was not already in use on the Lucy.

“Wot’s all this then, Master Whittin’ferd?”

Oi Dutch!

I'll see wot I c'n dig up... I happen to like the ol' boy quite a bit...

edit;

As a point of fact, I've never come across a description of what the man looked like...

There's only the image of him talking with the Governor Fletcher of New York...

http://www.redflag.co.uk/thomtew.htm/

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Tew

All that were topside on the Lucy watched and waited. The frigate was closer as each wave rolled and revealed her location and yet it felt like hours had passed since she was first sighted. Captain Lasseter stood in the waist, watching both the progress of the Watch Dog and the deck of the Lucy. As the frigate came into view he would stare at her a moment before directing his attention to the deck, occasionally giving a command to his officers if necessary. Lines had been run fore and aft for safety, and at one point a batten had come loose on the main grating and had to be reset and wedged in tighter. At one point Dorian had just sighted the frigate and was turning back to the deck when master Wenge was suddenly there. Dorian hoped the man had good news.

“Aye master Wenge, wot say you?”

“Sah! We shored up all we can with wot we got! She’s still letting water pass, though much slower!”

“Aye! Will she hold if we add some sail?”

Wenge took several moments of time to calculate what he knew in his head before turning his eyes back to the Captain.

“With calmer seas I’d trust her ‘round th horn, but as we be right now, this storm on top o’ us, the hold is still filling…”

The captain nodded once and was silent, taking his own time to think what else might help the situation. He shook his head some before making an offering.

“We c’n fother a sail over th’ bow if ye think that’ll slow it more.”

Alder half shrugged then nodded slowly.

“Very well, we’ll have a sail over th bow, Keep me appraised of an changes.”

“Aye sah!”

The master Carpenter headed below again as the order was given to break out the spare topsail and rig it to be fothered over the bow. Dorian continued his watch as the crew continued to do what they could. He prayed that the pumps would not give out as he watched another set of hands trade places on the worn handles.

As the report of a great gun was heard from the Watch Dog, it was as if even the Lucy gave a sigh of relief. In that moment some levity can forth from some of the men, as the master Gunner, Boatswain, and Coxswain lightheartedly argued which gun the ‘Dog had fired.

“Had ta be Sofia…”

“Nay, twas ‘is Grace.”

“Ye both be wrong, proper proty-col they woulda fired Jeanie er Havoc!”

They went round a couple times on this bend until Styles shouted out that he’d seen the frigate. All eyes turned to where he pointed and hollered. Dorian saw nothing at first, but when the rolling sea put them in the right position he saw her.

“Ah, there ye be…”

Now that she was in sight, mostly, the Captain gave command to stow the guns tightly. With more fire in their limbs the gun crew did just that. Men clung to rails and lines, watching as the Watch Dog came closer. As this slow ballet drew out, Dorian just wondered exactly what they might be able to do in the rolling seas around them. Would it be possible to transfer some of their cargo to lessen the burden? Would they even dare to put men in the boats to see what could be done? The best, or worst that he hoped for was that the Watch Dog would stay close incase the Lucy foundered so she could pick up the survivors.

As the report of the gun faded, sounds of mallets being put to task were heard by those near the bow as the Carpenter and his mates tried to staunch the flow of water filling the bilge. On the quarterdeck, two men fought with the tiller to keep the ship from rolling too much as the rest of the crew topside did what they could to keep their feet and relieve those men on the pumps. Captain Lasseter continued to stare into the spray and rain in the direction of where the Watch Dog had been, waiting to see her reappear. The gun crew had lashed up Badbh to keep her from straining her lines, but not as firmly as the rest of the guns were, not just yet. Half a glass had run through and there was still no sign of the frigate or their charge. Dorian wiped the stinging water from his eyes again.

“Any sign o’ th ‘Dog?”

All those on the lookout for her replied in the negative, so the captain called out to the gun crew.

“One more time lads! Fire when ready!”

Again the gun crew and master gunner worked their magic, however just as the shout to have a care was given, the gun was swamped and the match carried away. The indignant shouts that erupted from master Johnson when he was back on his feet was nearly loud enough that Dorian guessed William might hear him, where ever the Watch Dog might be. Direction was given to load the number 4 gun, Lugh, as Badbh, was no friable now. More powder and shot was brought up and a new match procured. This time the sea did not win out and a second report sounded from the wounded ship. Again all eyes turned to where they hoped their consort lay, hoping to see a masthead appear in the driving rain.

As the Captain came topside, his face was set in a grim mask. Men were attending to the ship and already word had made it somehow to those on deck of the situation below. Dorian strode purposefully aft and as he reached the break in the deck gave commands in a loud voice.

“Dowse all sail and put her nose inta th’ wind! Mister Johnson! Load a double shot inta Badbh and fire when ready! We need ta get William’s attention!”

Those who were not in action before were now moving with all haste. Cut-throat and Mister Aretineson lept to the task of loosing the forward most starboard gun while sending others to fetch powder and shot. It would not be an easy task in this weather, but between the two master gunners, it would happen.

Once the sails were in a heap on the deck and sprit boom, the Lucy slowed in the water, easing the pressure on the damaged bow. As a point of fact, they were now making stern-way with her nose into the wind. The ship bobbed in a slightly uncomfortable fashion now, but they would just have to bare it until things could be set to rights. Looking through the rain and spray, it was noted that a tarp was being held over the number 2 gun so as to keep her and her powder as dry as possible to facilitate her firing. Johnson was seen to run hunkered over to the fore hatch and disappear for a moment, the reappear and run in the same fashion back to the gun. A shout was heard and all those near the gun backed away just in time to be clear of her recoil as the brass 6 pounder barked out a loud report. Dorian smiled grimly and did no more than look toward where he has last seen the Watch Dog.

As Preston reached out to take the offered cloth, the Lucy was buffeted by a rogue wave that sent a shudder through the small ship. It was hard enough that it caused Dorian to have to take a step to keep his balance. A frown appeared on the Captain’s face.

“That, did not feel good… Pray, dry yourself and dress when young Liam returns. Stay put if you please, I will return in short order…”

The Captain handed off the cloth to his Ship’s Master and took up his oil skins and was soon topside. Mr. Brisbane was the first of his officers he found. He did not need to ask for a report, for as soon as Nigel was within ear shot, he began telling of what had just happened.

“Cap’n, rogue wave found us for’ard on th’ larboard bow, Tuck says it fractured th’ cathead, can’t say wot else’s amiss yet, sah!”

Dorian squinted against the spray and thought he might step forward to see, but decided on another tac.

“Thankee Nigel!, Gonna head b’low an see if there’s much amiss there! Do me the honour o’ doublin’ th’ men on th’ pumps!”

“Aye, Sah!”

With a nod, Dorian headed to the scuttle and below. He made his way forward and into the lower areas. Just as he was about to duck into the cable tier, Master Wenge appeared. He did not need to speak as the look on his face told all.

“How bad?”

“Captain… She’s sprung two planks… We’re takin’ on – are the pumps working full and by?”

Dorian just nodded and placed a hand on Alder’s shoulder.

“Do your best, man… We’ll make it ta port.”

Alder knuckled his forelock and headed aft in search of some timbers to shore up the damage. Dorian headed topside to see about taking some pressure off the larboard bow and signaling the other ships that they were in trouble. He did not truly believe the reassurance he had given to Alder.

Hmm...

Agreed... I'm with William on this...

We'll share them...

http://clawsonsrestaurant.com/

Clawsons 1905 Restaurant in Beaufort, NC

Great place, casual... Wood floors, bare red brick walls, dark wood booths.

I recommend their Seafood Bisque, A must have.

And if you're a chocoholic, the Death by Chocolate will do you in for sure.

Oddly, I've taken my shaving kit to every event... It's almost period, I just need to get a proper wooden handled brush to make it right...

Although the razor I have is horrible... I need to fine tune the edge several times to get a good shave.

I normally use a modern straight razor for a weekly shave.

I don't think I'll shave another person though...

As Captain Lasseter finished telling the tale of what he had known of Preston on the Snow in wake of the call of quarter given, he watched as the Ship’s Master became very still in thought and action. The Lucy pitched about, causing the hanging candles to cast strange shadows about the room and across both men’s faces. Even with al that, Dorian noticed something about Preston that had been lacking in the past day. He appeared to be of sound mind again. Dorian also noted that he was dripping wet and surmised that his officer had taken the liberty of a walk on deck in the deluge pouring from the sky above without foul weather gear. Maybe he was not so sound of mind… At that moment Preston licked his lips and drew in a breath, held it a moment before speaking.

“If… But they… Dorian… I don’ remember killin’ b’low decks on tha’ ship… I jus’… I’m no rememberin’, but I wouldn’t… not after quarter…”

Dorian saw the look of anguish on Preston’s face as he tried to sort out what had happened in his mind. In some way he was actually relieved, as he was quiet afraid that his most trusted officer had gone mad. The Captain watched as his man continued to work through what had happened, in some ways reliving it in his mind and still coming up short.

“Preston, ‘s’alright lad… We’ll sort this out in time, not to worry. I’m pleased with… I’m pleased yer feelin’ more yerself now, but I think ye still need ta rest easy… And ye need dry clothes, again… slog ‘em soppin’ bits off an we’ll get ye dry an dressed. Come now, it’ll come back to ya, just need more rest…”

Dorian stood again and Preston’s eyes focused on his face. Lasseter gave Preston a side-long smile before walking with slight difficulty to the sideboard and found a large cloth for Preston to use to dry off some. He called out for one of the powder monkeys and young Liam appeared. Dorian sent him to the Master’s cabin to fetch up more clothes for him and Liam was set to task.

“Drink up Preston, not th’ time ta get a chill…”

Again Dorian smiled some as he held out the cloth to the Ship’s Master.

Excellent adventure planned...

Aye, I have a couple...

Building some ships and living on them...

http://www.colonialnavy.org

Aye!

Awesome event!

Huzzah to Dutch and all the CSF and Deltaville Museum folks!!!

My apologies for the late chime in, we arrived home safe n' sound, are MUCH cleaner now...

Tick Count! Got everyone beat... by the end of the event I had 10... Must like imported food... Identified them as brown ticks... little bastards...

Mosquitos, mostly bit up my ankles, but not so bad...

Wonderful time meeting new folks and seeing old friends!

Can't wait for the next one I can make it to!

The patter of rain on the deck above came harder as Dorian made his way aft and the fresh, cool air that it brought made its way below. He took in a lungful and it refreshed and awakened the captain some. Not that it was a long way from the Ship’s master’s cabin to the Ward Room, but long enough that by the time he had reached his destination, Dorian was fully awake and prepared to see what may come of this weather. He stepped through the doorway and into the chamber and noticed right away that Preston was absent from his bed. Dorian paused a moment and considered the worst, that something had happened to the man while he slept, but surely someone would have awakened him for something of that gravity. He headed across the cabin and checked his sea chest, noting that all weapons and such were in place there and in other places around the space. He gathered his foul weather gear as he considered other possibilities of where his Ships Master might be and added to those thoughts of everything else that was unknown to him at this moment on his ship. One pressing matter that would now be delayed was the matter of the funerals of those killed in the recent battle. If the weather kept up through the morning, those poor souls would just have to wait and weather the storm before having their mortal remains given over to the depths and Poseidon's care.