William Brand

There are several crews back East that would love to have you aboard, and I'm sure they'll notify you shortly, but some of the Pub's virtual crews can be found in the subforum "The Skull & Quill Society".

Excellent work, Mister Tignor and Mister McBrian. Now bring that smart kit to PIP and weather it well with cannon black, corral dust, Russian Pine sap, cooked bacon and rum.

If I had the money, not only would I fly you out to your international destination of choice for some fine dining. I would also see to it personally that everyone there knew who you are before you got there so that they would great you by name and wish you a happy birthday. Since I don't, can't and therefore won't be able to (in that order), please accept a happy birthday from a pirate pauper.

Fort by day. Drunken tourists along the Westin and Mallory Square Piers by night.

Aye-Aye.

You will love the Nina. I saw her years ago at a tall ships festival. She's impressive, for what I can only describe as a very 'cozy' boat. You have to stand at her bow to fully appreciate the reckless, undaunted drive of Columbus and those who sailed with him into the unknown.

Excellent. The more the merrier. I'll add him to the tentative list along with a new listing for the Buccaneer Camp.

I'm happy to report that my mom found a whole mess of my grandpa's shaving brushes, so I get my pick. Also, as morbid as it sound, she also found my grandma's false teeth. I like weird stuff.

Well, if you still want changes made at anytime, just let me know.

Welcome aboard. There's a slim chance that I'll be at Skye before the year is over. If so, we'll talk.

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog William, Durand and Jim all made their way forward together. They did this for no particular reason, but as William went forward, so did they. Once at the bow they watched the Navarra turning upon the wind a little as the Lucy had done not long before. William took out his glass and it was passed between the three, each watching the Spanish merchantmen in turn. "They've a decent bosun." Jim remarked, squinting through the glass. "Or good, honest seamen." William returned. Durand said nothing. They all watched the Navarra make good use of a prevailing wind, and as she had done, the Watch Dog was soon turned in her course. William told Jacob to be mindful, as the Spanish might be watching back. William felt that they should not be shown less able than their neighbors. Jacob simply made a derisive snorting sound as if to say 'we're better by half'.

My Uncle Gary died on Sunday of liver failure combined with complications from pancreatic cancer. My dad wasn't contacted until Gary was gone, and like his mom, he did not get a chance to say goodbye. Today we went to the funeral. It was strange to see so many smiling images of an Uncle I only ever really knew as a recluse and later a bitter, angry man, but the funeral itself was pleasant and well attended. Many humorous and complimentary things were said on his behalf and everyone was glad to see one another. Afterwards, we went to my grandmother's house, which was so absolutely unchanged, that I felt as though I had stepped back in time twenty years. It was like a strange time capsule, with not one picture or piece of furniture out of place with any memory I could recall. It was almost sad how unchanged and unliving the place felt. It was hard to imagine my grandmother imprisoned in that dusty, unvisited tomb of a house. Sometimes we laughed and sometimes we sighed with regret at the state of the place, completely unchanged but for a heavy dust over everything. Then we were invited to take anything of meaning for ourselves. I took a small wind-up clock from my grandmother's dresser and was glad to hear it still click away time once wound up. I doubt that anyone has turned the mainspring on that clock for years. I also found an old suitcase that just seemed to speak to me. Later I found the necklace and tie tack with the boy scout emblem that were given to my grandma and grandpa when my dad became an eagle scout. I rushed it over to my dad who looked outwardly touched that I had found it for him. He tucked them away in his pocket with a smile. I also found numerous pictures of us when we were young that I have never seen, some reel-to-reel tapes of my aunts and uncles when they were young and some old collectible cars for Liam. Then we were invited to go through Gary's things, and this was revealing to say the least. Every room in the basement was filled with boxes and drawers of dvd, cds, LPs, videos, sound equipment, and everything else you can imagine. None of them were opened. Just thousands of discs and videos still in their original wrapping. Cupboards loaded with packs of playing cards, unopened boxes of dice, and more varieties of cologne than anyone could use in three lifetimes. Dozens of old shirts that he had never worn or thrown away. A lazerdisc movie player with a stack of unopened discs, never viewed. Unopened packages of socks, t-shirts, and home appliances. were found in every closet of the house. It seems that Gary was so depressed over the years that he purchased item after item to fill the hole in his life. It was sad to think of him endlessly buying things to give himself the comfort he had daily denied himself by shutting out others. He lived and died almost completely alone, surrounded by a landslide of material goods that he never used. Never enjoyed. Each and every one of these found their way into the waiting hands of someone who sometimes smiled to find a little treasure or an item almost forgotten. Me...I found an old pocket knife, an antique pair of round rimmed glasses and a mint condition GTO collectible that I gave to my nephew. My sister Michele took the wooden stool that my grandmother always sat on when she was cooking and singing in the kitchen. That stool is over seventy years old and has been sat upon by more relatives of mine than any other piece of furniture in the house. My search for things from my grandfather yielded nothing. All traces of my grandfather were gone, and but for the clock, there was little or no evidence that he had ever existed at all. What I would have given to have found a watch, tool, or personal item of my grandfather. Still, I was grateful to have seen my cousins, aunts and uncles, and to have found items important to my dad. I was also nice to say, that once in their lives my children stood in their great-grandmother's house.

We need this... One of the boats from the Shtandart project.

The historical discussion of great gunns and small arms can be discussed in both Twill and the Ship's Armory, but purchasing questions should be limited to the Thieve's Market or the Ship's Armory. If you search the Ship's Armory you'll find a great many discussion about cannon and the people who build and sell them.

I recall Harry calling the Fort by another name than Fort Zachary Taylor during the festival. Does anyone remember what that was?

Well, well. The Viceroy. Welcome aboard, sah.

"Come, Hollis." Alan took Robert by the shoulder and backed away slowly. "Dark skies. Threatening seas." He was grinning as he turned the man away.

They've done land to ship and ship to land assaults with a small boat in the past. Someone posted pictures of it years ago.

A silence followed for a time. Conversations at sea were like that when coming and going from a place. People watched the sea more than speaking, without a care for filling pauses. When Alan did speak again it was only to say, "Small ship." "I don't like Owen," she said again, recognizing a whole sermon in the statement. However close she might be to Owen in feet and yards, he was never going to be one of her favorites. "Weeeeell...Owen 's made no secret that 'e wants to be a marine." Treasure scoffed at this. "Which one is Owen again?" said a man at her elbow. It was the affable, but incorrigible gossip, Hollis.

"I see the Cap'n has you working." Alan said as he leaned on the shared rail. "Work an' all work for a day or two." Treasure nodded. Nathan went past then, propelled forward by a few men of the watch. They jeered him a little and he went as a prisoner to his duty, sulky and outwardly contemptible. Alan shook his head to watch him go, then he tried to start the conversation anew. "Mister Franklin will have the choosing of new marines soon." "Oh?" she returned, genuinely interested. "Aye. I think that man, Hutchins. An'...Jones. Good shots both, to hear tell of it." Again, she agreed. "What think you of Owens?"

Covet mode engaged.

Gentlemen Scotty Kate check.

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy "I think he's a just and fair man." Bill Flint said, then nudged Robert Jameson. Robert looked up from a book he was desperately trying to understand. "What...? Yes...fair." He agreed, then added. "Beautiful really." A quiet settled in the crowded berth, shortly followed by an explosion of snorts, chortles, guffaws and not a few surprised faces. "You think so?" Flint asked, incredulous. "Well...yes." "I'm moving my hammock." "What...?" Robert said, embarrassed and confused in equal parts as the room's volume rose a second time. "He does 'ave a good turned ankle, " Nicholas said with mock gushing. This pushed the group even further. "He!? What?" Robert was now a full shade darker than before. "We 're discussing the Ship's Master, ya dolt." Flint nudged Robert hard enough a second time to upset him from the overturned bucket upon which he sat. "To what beeeauuuty were you referring." "Nevermind." Robert said, not enjoying the laugh they all had by him.

August 6, 1704 - The Watch Dog No one in the company could say what had happened to Captain Stoneburrows at the end. The Heron had been a wreck, owing to a lucky hit from the Watch Dog. Men and boys had been scattered about the deck among the splinters and the wreckage. Many dead. Many wounded. Of those men who had come from the Heron, including Blikenderfer, Cobus, Hutchins, Jones, Larke, Lazenby, O'Connor and Saltash, none could rightly say who could have done the deed. Perhaps they knew and wished not to say. Perhaps it was one of them. It could be anyone of them, even Joshua Wellings who lay in fever. Several marines of the frigate stood together talking. Then, Eric Franklin came forward. "Sah. There were marines of the 'Dog on the Heron." "Aye." William agreed. "Well, sah...O'hara was with Stoneburrows when Cap'n Lasseter accepted his sword." This revelation received mixed looks from the men formally of the Heron. "O'hara." "Aye, sah. He was holding Stoneburrows." "Thank you gentlemen." Eric returned to his place among the marines, and with this business done, William called for a Liar. Several men shouted the name Manus Hingerty at once. Manus was obviously not amused by this, which brought a wave of laughs and long 'ooooooo's' as he shot everyone an evil look. "Choose another." William said, trying not to smile a little. Even Manus smiled when Patrick gave him a little shove. Several names were called, and a few men looked about. Some eyes fell on a shrinking Murin. Others on Robert Hollis, who was ever telling tales of Brand and others that surely bordered on lies. Hollis shrugged and seemed to find this more amusing than Hingerty. "Nathan Bly!" The company turned to Owen Monahan, who was grinning wickedly at a Nathan. Nathan's face was turning a deep red and might be purple if it didn't stop soon. Nathan glared about as his name seemed to take hold in everyone's mind. Another cry of 'Nathan Bly!' went up. And then another. And then another. it crossed the deck like a wave until Nathen was indeed purple. He glared in the direction of Murin as if to say, "It should be you". William, satisfied that the crew had spoken, pronounced Nathan the Lair. Nathan took this badly.

Yourself and some random Pennsylvania pyrate?