William Brand

First the humor goes... Once more for the record, I've made several attempts to upload images of her to no avail. EDIT: whew...finally. http://www.flickr.com/photos/24635634@N04/...in/photostream/

Ah yes...humor.

You want me to post a picture of Aeva under the heading "Your Pet"...?

Ahhhhh. There's the Captain we all know and lo...um...respe...hmmm....what's the word?

Aye, we do, but unfortunately I set up a booby-trap around it and I can't remember how to safely remove it. More's the pity.

I believe that someone told me to send this picture to Stuff On My Cat, so I did back in August and it was finally posted in January... http://www.stuffonmycat.com/index.php?item...nding=1#pending

A good cook is worth his eccentricities. Trust me...never point out any change which might upset a cook worth keeping.

Excellent. You can tell Mr. Pogue to wait for the next one.

Want. Cost?

About bloody ti...um. Congratulations. Really.

Nice like Paradise.

You need bed rest in the Caribbean somewhere and you should take me along as a personal consultant, because...well...it's warmer there than here.

I highly recommend an ARMA course, if you can find one in your area. http://www.thearma.org/about.htm

Welcome aboard.

Upstate New York Pirate. Excellent. Lovely area. Welcome aboard.

Sorry for the shirt delay. I've finally cleared my schedule and I'm putting in the order. I've sent out a confirmation on shirt sizes by PM to those of you that ordered shirts. If you did not get a Private Message from me, just send me a PM to confirm your shirt size. I'm placing the order in two days and they'll be screened and shipped by early next week.

You need reminding? But...you're a distilled spirit. Speaking of spirits, and returning to talk of fire, I believe we could use some bananas foster...

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy William stood awhile in silence, pondering the many problems before him. The Stoneburrows' stabbing had seemed important when first brought to light, but in the wake of the den Oven matter, it had paled considerably. Still, having a murderous opportunist aboard smacked of too much Tawny or Muller, so the matter would have to be broached ere they departed this now unfavorable island. "Gentlemen, I fear that a pragmatic outlook is called for in the hours ahead. Den Oven, foolish though he may seem in some matters, will likely have taken his leave of Martinique to destinations unknown. In light of his all too recent accommodations he has good reason to place himself far from here and far from us. We will of course seek him out, but if he has quit the island, I cannot argue his capture well enough to make it seem profitable to the whole of the Whole Company. I cannot imagine that they would see the need of his capture to be above the idea of another drink ashore here or the expectation of more coin in...Southern climbs." Dorian made a face. "It's th' intelligence he might deliver ta them that bothers me." He said 'them' with a tone of practiced disdain. "Intelligence...?" Preston scoffed aloud, as if the word had no place when used in context with den Oven. "Anything he might say of me would not besmirch my reputation with...them." William emphasized, using the same tone with a smile. "Come, Gentlemen. We shall be about our business a short while and rest a full watch before the pressing duties of the morning." "Aye." they said together. "I'm off to kick the 'Dog a bit. We shall consider our stay here at an end and make preparations to that end." William clapped Dorian at the forearm in Roman fashion. It was a gesture too genuine to be antiquated. He also made a point of slapping Preston on the shoulder, reminding the new Ship's Master how glad he was to see him up and about. Then he departed the Lucy for more familiar surroundings. Just prior to Eight bells of First Watch

The cook sleeps in the nude, often with unidentifiable bedmates, and he bathes only when it rains, so I'm lucky not to have a rash of poisoned guests. Still, he makes a mean brioche.

That stretch of virgin sand...white gold under bare feet. We were spoiled rotten, and most of us are rotten already. Rotten to the core. A toast! To the rotten lot!

I could use a little Jack on the harmonica, a little Silkie on the vocals...and a little Lawrence on the howitzer.

And while the flames dance, perhaps a chocolate tart with a tropical flare. Something to offset the smell of burning oakum.

Virtually speaking, we have a plethora of boats.

We'll break open a round of the '65 and go down to the beach and burn a random longboat.

Nice. I shall imbibe.