Dorian Lasseter

Wharf of Fort Royal Men from the Watch Dog and Heron departed from the ships boats and began to make their way inland to the Town of Fort Royal. Among the Heron’s crew, Nigel Brisbane, Boatswain, lead the small group from the Heron, even though up until very recently half of the men were crew of the Watch Dog, and the other half newly signed members from the captured Cutter, they all were ‘Heron’s’ now. They traded quips with their brethren of the ‘Dog, yet remained separate from them after a fashion, their was a noticeable gap between the groups of men as they wound their way into the community. Even when a tavern was found that was up to the ‘standards’ of the crew, those off the Heron decided to keep moving, to find a tavern all their own. The Heron’s crew headed further along a main street, passing shops and one or two of the lads would stop, so the rest would loiter about, waiting for either interest to be lost, or a purchase to be made. By the time another good establishment of drink was found, several of the men had new items of clothing or other baubles and sundry items. They filed into the tavern of choice and ignored the looks of the regular customers, took over a table and the libations began to flow.

As the two captains reached the Quarterdeck, caught up in conversation about what was to hopefully be accomplished this day, they did not see Miss McDonough fly up the steps. She caught their attention when she saluted. They stood for a moment looking at her, just a split second to long for comfort, and her confidence wavered until they both smiled. Dorian touched his fingers to his hat and inclined his head, William bowed slightly and spoke. “Welcome to the quarterdeck Miss McDonough… What have you to report?”

The jollywatt headed across the void between the ships to collect the parcels to be sold, along with the Ships Taylor. As they approached Dorian shielded his eyes and looked up to the deck, expecting to see Miss McDonough to be ready and waiting to go ashore. When he did not see her waiting in the waist, he scanned the decks fore and aft. Still he did not see her. As they bumped against the hull of the frigate, he called up to the deck. “Ahoy the deck! Where away is Miss McDonough?” A moment later Captain Brand poked his head over the side. He touched his fingers to his hat. “Captain Lasseter… She is acting as my Steward in Miss Smith’s absence for the moment.” “Ah…. I see… well then, permission to come aboard?” “Granted, of course, Captain…” Dorian spanned the gap and started up the side, easily crossing the rail and on to the main deck. “How long til her duties as Steward are finished, so we may head ashore?” William shrugged slightly. “Not long…” “Alright… might I have some of the lads transfer th’ clothes n’ such inta th’ boat?” With a nod, he turned and directed two lads to do just that.

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Once all was said and done by Captain Brand, those of the larboard watch were smiling and making ready for their time ashore. Mister Lasseter waited a moment or two and watched as those of the starboard watch headed back to their duties, some being pulled for the duty of raising the Apollo’s guns from the hold, while others were already sizing up the work to be done to refit the frigate. Miss McDonough stood fast by the piles of discarded clothing and other goods, her eyes occasionally drifting to where he stood. Satisfied that all was moving along, he turned and headed to the waist, to the waiting Ships Taylor. He smiled kindly at her, knowing she was in a way shy around the officers, hoping to make her feel a bit more comfortable. She blushed slightly as they spoke in short sentences, dividing the clothes into piles of good and bad. The Watch Dog had a slop chest in the hold, where some extra clothes were already stored. Dorian noted that what they had in the good pile were in better shape than what he remembered to be in the slop chest below. Murin suggested that they keep these good clothes and take what was in the slop chest and sell all the rest. A smile again spread across the Quartermaster’s face. “Excellent Miss McDonough… I believe I’ll be headed ashore in a short time… Hmmm… yer on duty at present I believe… Have the clothes we’re to keep sent below, and all that we’re to sell made into bundles to be taken ashore… When I’m ready I’ll come back to th’ “Dog to take you an’ the bundles ashore, then we’ll have that out of th’ way…” She smiled, then checked herself, knuckling he forelock. “Aye Quarterma, er, Cap’in Lasseter.” Again she blushed, having bobbled his title. Dorian smiled again, hoping to put her at ease. Then nodded. “Aright, you ‘ave yer orders…” He turned away and headed belowdecks to his old quarters. There he gathered all he had from his desk, putting it into his sea chest and locked it. He went back into the waist and called over Loures Loerwairt and Patrick Hand, giving them the duty of hauling his sea chest out to be taken aboard the Heron. While they were doing that, he took stock of what other items were to go ashore for sale or barter, made notations on a scrap of parchment and tucked it into his pocket. All those from the Heron were gathered in the waist where he addressed them. All were to report back to the Heron, then those up for time ashore would be allowed departure. His orders were understood and soon the jollywatt was ferrying the men back to the cutter, along with his sea chest and other goods to remain aboard the small ship. The last of the crew departed, he waited for the boat to return, as he did so, he turned his face to the sun and closed his eyes. The warmth felt good on his already tanned skin. He knew not how long he stood in such away, but he heard the splash of a sweep and broke from his basking to see the jollywatt just about to come along side the frigate. He watched as Mister Brant grabbed onto the chains, then was over the side, and quickly in the sternsheets. The trip was short, shoes men on the sweeps wanted to be headed ashore as soon as possible and were happy to put their backs into the work. Once back aboard his ship, Captain Lasseter saw to his sea chest, making sure it was stowed in the wardroom, and then gathered what he needed to head ashore. He checked the sandglass to find it was nearing the change of watch, nearing eight bells of the forenoon. Setting his gathered items aside, he headed below again, shook off his sandals and hurriedly pulled on his stockings and shoes. He just opened the door when the bells began to toll. The bustle of activity that met him on deck was quite loud, even compared to battle. He chuckled, knowingly, as he had been there before. He had been a carefree sailor in years gone by. When he was noticed, the men became subdued, to which he gave them a look. “Go on then…. Keep in mind wot was said on the Watch Dog!” Smiles reappeared, and the noise level went back up as some lads went over the side into the boat, soon to be headed to the wharf next to the fort where they would then over run the town of Fort Royal. Another turn of the glass and all the Larboard watch was off the Heron. As the Jollywatt returned, Dorian picked up his ledger and headed to the side. Down into the boat he went and ordered it to the frigate to pick up Miss McDonough and all the parcels and satchels. First bell of the Afternoon Watch 28 July, 1704 Cul-de-Sac, Martinique

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The Jollywatt of the Heron made four trips to ferry the men to the Watch Dog, the last trip bore the captain and the satchels full of the sorted shoe buckles, shoes and other assorted trinkets stripped from the departing prisoners. Captain Lasseter was still dressed very much as he had been all night, but with the addition of his hat and sandals. The small boat had come along side of the frigate and the parcels taken aboard, then at the bidding of their captain departed, leaving him to be the last to come aboard. Captain Brand stood in the waist, welcoming everyone aboard. As Dorian’s head cleared the rail, William gave him a hand over. “Captain Lasseter, welcome aboard…” “Cap’n Brand… Thankee kindly…” Both men nodded at each other, William sweeping his hand to the side. Dorian bowed his head and smiled. “On no Cap’n… by all means, lead th’ way…” William slowly smiled and bowed a shallow bow from the waist. He turned and headed towards the quarterdeck and Dorian followed. Once there, he assumed his old post of Quartermaster for what was to commence. Captain Brand waived Jim Warren foreward with the ledger he carried, and took said tome from the man. Jim gave a salute and retreated to his former place. William allowed the ledger to fall open to a well worn section and scanned down the pages. His eyes settled on the top of the first page and he read it to himself, even though he knew the words by heart. ‘Articles of the Watch Dog’… Three Bells of the Forenoon Watch

long as ye don' mind sharin' a spot wi' this fella....

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Captain Lasseter paced the deck all night and into the morning. Now dressed better and his sword hanging at his side, he clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. His mood had not gotten better as the day progressed, as a point of fact, it darkened a bit since they had not found the escaped prisoner. The morning wore on, shifts changed, the sun rose up into the sky. At one point, Miss Moore brought him a mug of coffee. He inhaled the aroma deeply, gave her a smile and a nod and took a drink before continuing his pacing. The warm drink did not do much for his weariness, but as the temperature and the strength of the light rose he settled into the day. At two bells of the Forenoon Watch plans were made to have all aboard the Heron and Maastricht to be aboard the Watch Dog so that Captain Brand might address all at once. Just after Two Bells of the Forenoon Watch 28 July, 1704 ~Starboard Watch on Duty~

Dorian had patience most of the time. Usually he could be patient for days. But, at this moment it failed him. He began to pace the deck very much like a caged wolf. Even in a shirt and slops, barefooted, he looked ever so dangerous. The set expression on his face didn’t help, his jaw set, brow furrowed. As he passed by, those of the crew near got quiet and very still until he was at the least a fathom away before whispering and looking out into the water. He paced the length of the ship, at one point setting the musket aside and pulling his mortuary sword free of the deck, carrying it with the blade over his shoulder. He looked from the Heron to the Maastricht, then to the Watch Dog. As he passed by the binnacle, he stopped and took a step back. “Nigel… a word please…” Mister Brisbane blinked twice before making his way to the captain’s side, his injured eye twitched again. He stopped an arms length away. “Nigel… “ He said the man’s name then seemed lost in thought. Nigel stood for a time, then very quietly cleared his throat. Dorian looked at him. “Ah, yes, Nigel… would ye be so kind as to fetch m’ weskit n’ scabbard for this… “ Without so much as a moments pause, Nigel knuckled his forelock and headed below. When he reappeared, Dorian was staring at the sandglass, as it was about to run out. Mister Brisbane stood and waited. As the sand ran out, Dorian turned it and placed a hand on the lanyard of the bell, he struck it once. First Bell of the Morning Watch

When Mister PEW yelled ‘quiet’ all eyes on the Heron turned to the shout, then realizing it was just a call to order, the continued their own personal vigil. Captain Lasseter continued to scan the waters with both his naked eye, and the glass, an angry sigh escaping his lips every so often. Nigel felt slightly useless, as his injured eye would tear up quickly, breaking his concentration easily. He tried not to rub it, but couldn’t help doing so. Lucky Tuck climbed into the rigging every so often, trying to see as far as he could. Many others murmured here and there. Fingers shot out and heads turned to look, but nothing came of it. Young Kalfkin almost fell over board as he stood on a gun truck and pointed at a disturbance, luckily, Mr. Johnson was close by and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back. Snorts of laughter burst from Godfrey, and he was cuffed by Johnson’s free hand. Many watched as the Samson was pulled across the bay, lit up like a pleasure yacht as it headed towards shore

Patrick O’Hara and Robert Jameson were in the bow of the Heron, looking into the night and pointing out any disturbance on the water they saw. Every time, it turned out to be nothing. They spoke in harsh whispers and occasionally drew looks from other crew members. At one point Robert pointed to the Watch Dog, drawing Pat’s attention to the men climbing over the side into one of the ships’ boats. “Wot they doin’ ya think?” “Huh, dunno… think they seen ‘is body floatin’ and are going after ‘im?” “Oh, I ‘ope not… I’d like a chance ta be a crown ‘r two richer….” As Robert said the last, he elbowed Patrick in the side, causing him to laugh a bit, which Robert took up. This produced hisses from others to ‘put a lid on it’, and they stifled their laughter.

All eyes were scanning the water around the Heron, the Maastricht and the Watch Dog. Dorian had wondered if Tawny was a good swimmer and might make it to a near by vessel, but he would be noisy no matter, as their nearest neighbor was some five or six cables distant. He was about to sight the ship in question when Nigel touched him on the shoulder and held out a musket to him. “Aye, thankee Nigel…” “Welcome, Captain.” Dorian propped the musket on the rail and sighted through the glass, the water remained calm, an occasional bit of chop here and there, but no signs of a person in the water. Lowering the glass, he shoved it into his belt near his pistol, hefted the musket and checked the pan. Satisfied he thumbed the cock, then decided not to pull it off the dog to full cock.

Captain Lasseter listened intently to William across the waves and clenched his jaw upon hearing of more death, and the still unknown whereabouts of the escaped prisoner. He turned to all those men on deck, armed for battle. Those who knew Jannes spat curses and gained a hard look. “You all heard Cap’n Brand… keep a sharp eye fer Tawny…” He spit the name out of his mouth with venom. And all around him noted the dangerous look on his face. He swept the surrounding waters with his gaze, then shouted back to William. “Nay Cap’n! Not as of yet!” He lowered his hand from his mouth and addressed the crew without turning his gaze from the waters. “A crown to the first man who may spot th’ prisoner, a second to who may kill him… I want th’ body... Someone bring me a musket…” He shifted his sword into his right hand, blade down and stabbed it into the deck with a dull thud.

The musket shot had awakened Captain Lasseter from something he had not gotten in some time, deep fitful sleep. He dropped out of his hammock and was drawing the Mortuary sword from it’s scabbard when he heard his name being called out across the waters. He put the sword into his left hand and yanked open the door just as Maurice Roche was about to knock. His knuckles swiped at air and he stood dumbfounded for a half second before his wits caught up to him. “Capitaine! Tawnee, he ‘as escaped!” Dorian didn’t even verbalize a reply, he just slid past the man and out onto deck. looking to the Watch Dog, he saw the commotion and all on deck looking into the water. “To Arms! To Arms! All men on deck!” The small crew of the Heron swarmed like angry bees on to the deck, all armed with pistol and musket. He watched as fingers were pointed to the water near the Maastricht, a call went up, sounding like an Indian cry. Movement on the deck of the Fluyt caught his attention. He watched as Bill Flint threw something down into the water, then a cheer went up and soon was followed by a lower, horrified hum of voices. He shoved his pistol in his belt and went to the binnacle for the ship’s glass. Once in hand, he turned it towards where fingers were still pointed. All he could see was some choppy water that looked greasy. As things seems to calm, he shifted his sight to the frigate and found Captain Brand in the waist with Mr. PEW. Lowering the glass, he tucked under his left arm and cupped his mouth with his right. “Captain Brand! What news?!”

^The first ones, Washington, Adams, etc.... did a hell of a job, starting from scratch... I just wish the true ideals they came up with held true to-day... > Wondering when the next time I'll be getting into kit for an event... V Any president you wish were dead?

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Dorian smiled just a touch and nodded. Every man, woman, and boy aboard the ships were fevered with the thought of heading off for shore-leave. Even he thought himself slightly impatient to be ashore, but not for the drunken revelry that most were after. Business first, there were goods to be sold, then supplied to be purchased and sent back to the ship, so even those not on shore-leave may end up visiting the docks, even if only to transport necessities back out to their floating homes. Once the business had at hand had been dealt with, then his mind could turn to more personal business ashore… replace some clothes, maybe even have a coat fit for a captain made for him. A new hat might also be in order. He brought himself out of his internal conversation and bid William a good evening, and that the men of the Heron would assemble on the Watch Dog not long after first light. Captain Brand again nodded in agreement and walked Dorian to the door leading out of the Wardroom, bidding him a good night. Heading into the waist, Dorian looked the ship up and down as he was apt to do any time he came on deck, he touched his hat to those men on duty and headed over the side, back into the Heron’s Jollywatt. Soon the sweeps were pulling the small craft back to the Cutter, and soon those aboard would be informed of the happenings for the morning. A morning that would come too soon for some, and not soon enough for others… Five Bells of the Mid Watch

Mainly, I do tea and cocoa.... All different kinds of tea, but the top two are Irish Breakfast & Earl Grey with a tsp of sugar... Used to drink plenty of coffee in my youth, but then was sworn off it by doctors (kidney stones) for three years or so... then was given the thumbs up to drink it and wow, it was horrible! Lost my taste for it. Now I might have a fru-fru coffee drink here an' there, but not straight up coffee. Still smells wonderful, but blech... Other caffeine sources; iced tea, pepsi...

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The evening went on, all the valuables were sorted and put back into the satchels. The men headed up on deck in the darkness to take in the fresh air and go about their business. Only the Captain stayed below to finish up some paperwork. He was just writing the last notations when Mister Press knocked on the wardroom door and announced that the lookout had spotted the shore party returning. Dorian thanked the man and stifled a yawn, stretched, and stood. He rolled his shoulders a couple times before retrieving his waistcoat, sword and one pistol. Once settled, he grabbed up his hat and went topside. The breeze was cool on deck and he breathed it in deeply. Turning to shore, he dug into his pocket and withdrew his spyglass, drew it open and sighted his brethren in the dim lights from the wharf. He could tell they had had their fill of drink and chuckled to himself, wondering if they were able to make it back to the ships without incident. Collapsing the glass, he walked to the gunnel and peered down. The jollywatt remained fast to the chains. “Mister Tucker… Pick two men ta man th’ jollywatt… I need ta ‘ave speaks wi’ Cap’n Brand… AT yer leasure… dunno when they’ll make it back to th’ ‘Dog…” Lucky Tuck had been two steps to the side of Captain Lasseter, having quietly drawn up to that spot as Dorian looked through his glass. He knuckled his forehead and turned to the deck. “Stadtmeyer, you and Brant… make ready the ships boat, captain’s to be heading to the Watch Dog…” Two voices echoed one another with ‘aye-aye’ and they made their way over the side into the waiting boat. Dorian remained at the rail for a time, watching the progress of the cutter being rowed out into the bay. Light occasionally glanced off the blades of the sweeps, which were not doing a good job of being in sync. Again a slight chuckle escaped from him. Once the ships cutter had gotten close enough that he could hear the sweeps groaning in the tholes, he retreated to the wardroom and took up the ledger. Returning topside, he walked slowly to the rail and over he went into the sternsheets of the jollywatt, took up the tiller and bid the men to shove off. “Take yer ease lads… no hurry ta get there…” “Aye Captain…” As they began to make way from the Heron, Dorian looked back at the English Cutter, saw Mister Tucker standing on the small quarterdeck looking very much the man in charge. He swung the tiller over, delaying their time to reach the frigate. He did this two more times, making the jollywatt move across the short distance in lazy arcs. 28 July, 1704 Three bells of the MidWatch ~Starboard Watch on duty~

1. haven't eaten yet 2. light traffic on a monday morn. (Yes, I get to work today) 3. Silkie (IM counts, right?) 4. the Mrs.

Another thing on Jas T. site.... http://www.jastown.com/blog/?page_id=27 a more simplified 'lead holder' for this... but it's dated a bit past GAoP.... And to answer a question about lead poisoning, No they didn't quite understand lead poisoning just yet, and lead in food was still about later on, and in makeup... On a side note there, I believe arsnic was take by the ladies in small amounts to keep their complection pale (!) Ahhh, to be fashionable, the sacrifices one must make...

1. Egg Salad 2. Sleeping cats (are there any other kind?) 3. BriarRose Kildare 4. The AWOL Mister PEW