Dorian Lasseter

Looks like fun.... I work with a simular one of these and this scares me, yet.... http://my.break.com/media/view.aspx?ContentID=216476

Booo scary shoe salesman with a foot fettish! Yay Beer!!! gotta love them Red Stripe commercials.....

Wharf of Fort Royal Lieutenant Bedeau paced back and fourth behind his men as Sergent Wischard stood at attention with the rest of the men. All eyes were trained on the three newly anchored ships in the calm waters under the great guns of the fort. The commandant had ordered the lieutenant and the compagnie to head to the docks to collect prisoners, yet there were none to be had, none being ferried from these ships. Bedeau stopped pacing and strode purposefully over to Sergent Wischard. “Compagnie! Reposez-vous sur le fusil!” The compagnie of marines went to parade rest, Lieutenant Bedeau nodded to the Sergent and headed into the nearest maison de rafraîchissement, into the shade for a drink while his men stood on the wharf in the heat of the sun.

The Captain and Coxswain had finished their drinks, Nigel headed back on deck while Dorian continued writing in the logbook. He heard French and English being bantered about from the deck and the occupants of the bumboats that had come out to the small fleet. Haggling for food, drink, and wares was being done. He thought about heading on deck and putting it to a stop, but it would be of no use, as the bargaining would continue when he headed below again, just at a lower volume and at the bow. He knew the men would respect the standing order given about no women aboard, He gave reason as well that a better price and selection could be had once ashore. He chuckled to himself wondering what kind of trouble would be had by the men and women of the Watch Dog and Heron, both new and old hands alike, once they had their liberty. He knew fortunes would be made and lost, the highs and lows of a sailor ashore in an unfamiliar port. He wondered how many men might never return, or who might return worse for wear. He poured another finger of whiskey into his tankard and leaned back, looking out the stern windows at the other ships in cul-de-sac-royal and past them to the fortifications in the distance.

Jim, You, are a Goode Man... You are an Honourable Man... You are a Brave man... You've earned my respect even before imparting this... I wish you and yours all the best. I hope in years to come your new children will come to understand and thank you for all you've done for them.

Callenish, Well put my goode man. I think the Democratic way was what was being done here, everyone gets a vote... So, I propose this; A Brig-sloop named Mercury... All in favour say AYE!

Patrick... how is that wrong? A cure... not a cause...

Hmm... How 'bout a new one not on the list... She's a small, fast ship, a Sloop or Brog-Sloop... Mercury The wing-footed messenger of the gods...

Got a couple... Not yer usual pirate ink....

Onboard the Heron, Fort Royal, Martinique It was les than an hour later when Mister Brisbane knocked on the door to the wardroom. “Enter…” The Captain spoke up through the door without looking up from his transcribing of notes. Mister Brisbane gently opened the door and stepped in… “Cap’n, we done going through what supplies are aboard, an’ what we need ta restock the ship.” Dorian sat up and looked at Nigel. He smiled a closed lipped smile and stood. Walking over to the small cabinet near his hammock he drew out a half full bottle and came back to the desk and picked up his tankard and a second that was turned on its side. He handed one vessel to Nigel and with some slight awkwardness uncorked the bottle, poured a gill of the liquid in each and clunked his tankard off of his Coxswain’s. Both men took a swallow, but only Nigel gritted his teeth and hissed a breath through them. Dorian chuckled. “Irish whiskey… has a bite don’it?” “Aye Cap’n…” “Thank you for a job well done… Once Cap’n Brand comes back from shore, we’ll have a go…” He looked at the list Mister Brisbane had for him and grunted slightly. “Quite a long list…. Longer’n what’s needed fer th’ Dog… damn tha’ fool th’ last cap’n was… “ “Aye Cap’n….” Dorian wasn’t sure if he was agreeing that it was a long list, or that the former captain was a fool, or both… He raised an eyebrow as he looked at his Coxswain, raised his tankard to his lips and took another drink.

Agreed as well... Solstice or Lucy for me then... And on another topic here..... Dunno how much this affects things but there is such a thing as a two masted Sloop... a Sloop-of-war, or a Brig-Sloop...

Damnation.... Well, whomever happens to contact them, tell Gary & Co. that all of us at the Pub and then some are wishing them the best of luck with the Royaliste. I've had the pleasure of visiting Gary and the Royaliste a handful of years ago. A grande Vessel she be... Please keep all of us updated...

Monsieur Rousseau and his party watched the newcomers gather their goods and make their way down the waterfront. He leaned slightly closer to the aid he presented for delivery of prisoners and spoke quietly in his ear. The man nodded and spoke one word. “Oui…” He departed the group and headed towards the embattlements. In a short time he was through the gates and into the parade grounds. He made his way to the commandant’s office and informed the commander what had transpired and the request to be relieved of prisoners. The commandant who had remained in a relaxed pose behind his desk leaned foreward and steepled his hands on the desktop. A slow smile spread across his face. He slowly rose from his seat and bowed from the waist. “Merci Monsieur Pomeroy…” “Vous êtes bienvenu…” Monsieur Pomeroy returned the bow and retreated from the office and made his way back to the party on the docks. “Il a été informé, Monsieur…” Rousseau simply nodded and began to walk, his retinue followed. The commandant sent for one of his officers, who was soon in front of him. Orders were given and the man was off. He approached the barracks and found a sergent and relayed orders. The sergent headed into the barracks and rousted out a drummer who came to attention with his instrument and beat out the order assemblée. Soon a company of soldiers were coming out of the barracks, some still shrugging into their uniforms and equipment. The sergent began firing off orders. “À l'ordre serré, formez trois rangs! Prenez garde À vous! Alignez! Fixe!" The sergent walked up and down the ranks, inspecting the company. He made his way to the head of the unit and presented himself to the officer, reported the company all accounted for. The officer gave the next command. “Prenez votre poste!” Salutes were exchanged and the sergent moved to his place while the officer did an about face and drew his sword. “Compagnie…. Marche!” Soon the small company of marines, twenty five of them including the sergent, were marching down to the docks of Fort Royal, with orders to wait for the delivery of prisoners.

Mister Lasseter had headed foreward and below decks, finding his way through the cable tier, then aft to the other compartments. He emerged from the aft compartments to see Mister Flint on the foredeck. “Mister Flint, I thought I left you on th’ Heron….” “Aye Sir, Captain Brand and Mister Pew changed around the marines on the ships, sir…” Dorian looked around with a critical eye, before he asked his next question, Flint continued. “The Captain and Master-at-Arms have gone ashore with a shore party…” Mister Lasseter scanned the water and saw them just reaching the docks. He gently shut the logbook in his hands and placed it behind his back. “Very Well… As you were… I’ll be on th’ Heron checkin’ what we may need for ‘er…” “Aye-Aye, Sir” He snapped off a salute and Dorian nodded before heading to the side and over the rail down to the waiting boat. He gave orders to shove off and they headed to the Heron, where they all boarded. Mister Brisbane saluted the Captain as he came even with the deck. “Cap’n Lasseter, changes have been made to the marines…” “Aye Nigel, so I have found out… “ He turned to the men behind him. “You men, go refresh yerselves… “ The order needed not be repeated twice, off they went to the galley. Dorian turned back to Nigel. “Take a handful of th’ men an’ take stock of all aboard… I need ta add what we lack ta th’ list o’ supplies I’ll be gatherin’ ashore… Yes Mister Brisbane, we’ll be holdin’ on ta th’ Heron a while longer.” Nigel smiled and knuckled his brow. “I’ll be in th’ wardroom…” Dorian turned and headed below. When he got to the room he laid the logbook and his hat on the desk, removed his coat and laid it over the back of the chair, found his tankard and a pitcher of water and refreshed himself. He poured a small amount into the basin and splashed his face with it. Feeling better, he headed back to the desk and sat. He tried to get comfortable, but to no avail. It was stuffy in the wardroom, so he stood and walked around the cabin, opening all the ports and windows that would open. Now there was a slight breeze coming through. With a smile, he sat again, moved his hat out of the way and opened the logbook to where he has last written. He retrieved the pen and inkpot and began adding more notations.

Aye! Happiest o' Nayal days to Ye, an' many more ta come!

Lucy Morning Star

Here's another two masted sloop...

Aye, Images and info would be great. You also might want to put this on the Pirate Brethren site as well. http://www.piratebrethren.com/

Mister Lasseter was relieved that the men would not be allowed to bring the ladies in the boat onto the ship, too many men for only a couple of women would cause big problems. He saw it happen many a time while in the royal navy. When the subject returned to the stores and salvaged goods to be sold off he referred to the logbook and believed they would be able to turn over a tidy profit. The list that Miss McDonough had made up was very well done, he would have to add what he needed for the Heron to it, but only after they took stock of what could be used off the Maastricht. He took his leave and went to find Mister Youngblood and discuss the particulars on the cannon to be sold. Mister Lasseter found the Master Gunner in the hold, directing two of the men with the job of rousting out the cannon in question to be brought to market. “Mister Youngblood… How soon ye think these’ll be fit to take ashore?” “With a bit o’ polishing and a spot o’ paint…. Three r’ four hours, Sir…” “Very well… carry on my goode man…” “Aye Sah!” Dorian headed topside and made his way to where the four lads from the Heron still milled about, making small talk over the side with the ladies in the one boat. They straightened at his approach and stopped their bantering. He walked slowly up to them, looked at each in turn with an unjudgemental eye before addressing them. “A’right, back ta th’ Heron, but first we stop at th’ Maastricht ta see what she still has ta offer us.” “Aye Cap’n.” Four sets of knuckles met the owners’ brows in salute. They turned as a group and headed to the ladder steps down to the Jollywatt. Dorian followed shortly, sat in the sternsheets and they were off. It was a short pull to the fluyt, where only Mister Lasseter headed aboard. He was met by those Men of the Watch Dog left aboard to guard the prisoners. “Genn’lmen… All’s well?” “Aye Mister Lasseter…” “Very goode… I’ll be seein’ what stores we might be able ta use on our ships afore we sell off this… ship…” The men grinned, guessing that another word might have been used for what he thought of this ship. Dorian nodded and walked about the deck with his logbook. He retrieved a pencil from his coat pocket and scribbled notes on a page as he inspected coils of line, cannon, sails and anything else that might serve the Watch Dog or Heron.

Mister Lasseter’s nose came out of his logbook as the hail of the watches told of the boats heading from shore. He chuckled as the men cheered heartily, seeing the one boat full of women. He was about to go find pen and ink to make some additional notes when he heard that the Captain had requested his presence, on the opposite side of the deck. He closed the book again, tucked it under his arm and walked the handful of paces over to William’s side. “Aye Cap’n… “ William turned and nodded to Dorian. “Captain… QuarterMaster… I believe we have some merchants and traders come out to see what we have to offer them, and a boatload of ladies to sell their ‘wares’…” The last bit caused Dorian to smile and slightly nod his head and a questioning look crossed his face. “We got stores from th’ Apollo ta trade off… er…… ye gonna let them lass’s aboard?”

Cape Hattaras, NC... One of my favourites... Here's a link to all of the lighthouses in the US http://www.pbs.org/legendarylighthouses/

Dorian stood slowly after Captain Brand did, and made his statement concerning heading ashore. “Cap’n… Gen’lmen…” He headed out into the passageway and into his cabin which had been abandoned since he took command of the Heron. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He opened the top left drawer of his desk and pulled out the QuarterMasters Logbook and laid it on the desktop and pushed the drawer shut. He paused a moment before opening the second drawer. He had hoped Mister Pew had found time to repair his Dragoon pistols and put them here, but the drawer was bereft of the weapons. He made a mental note to ask about them later. Shutting the drawer, he picked up the logbook and departed the cabin. He went foreward and into the waist, then up onto the quarterdeck. There he looked around the ship and over to the prize to be sold, and the ship under his command. He opened the tome to where he had last written in it, several days past. He read the remarks of what needed to be replenished in the hold. He would also have to confer with others for their needs, and add what was needed for the Heron to the grand list.

Hmmmm... both single and two masted I like, but... Most folks when ya say 'Sloop' think of a single masted vessel... Two masts, most folks think Schooner or Brig... I'll have what this Gent is havin'....

Alright, The loadin' procedure I know n' use off th' top of my head.... This will be loading from a paper cartridge. Loading from a horn is only slightly different... 1 Pull cock back to half-cock (or on the dog, for a doglock) 2 Open Frizzen (Pan cover) 3 Rip open end of cartridge with teeth. 4 Pour enough powder into pan to fill it. 5 shut Frizzen. 6 Point muzzle skyward and pour remaining powder into barrel, then stuff the cartridge paper (with ball in end) down barrel. 7 use ramrod to fully seat the ball. Pistol is now ready to fire, once the cock is drawn to full cock. The cartridge paper will wedge the ball in nicely, as long as it's the right caliber, i.e. .615 cal for a .62 cal barrel, etc...

If we go with Patrick (and Silkie's) idea... My top three now; Lucy Morning Star Solstice