William Brand

August 2, 1704 - At the Chirurgeon's Home Two Bells of First Watch "Come in, Mister Wenge." William said, and Dorian was already waving the man in. "We shall soon see everyone ashore." "I hope I am not intruding, Sirs." Alder offered, and William shook his head. "No, no, sah. Sit. Our business will include you now and in time, so sit." William, Dorian and the others looked about, for there wasn't truly any place for Alder to sit, so he leaned upon the window seal where Paul stood. "I've recently taken on additional men from the Fort Royal Prison, and having questioned many, I found a carpenter among them." Alder nodded, and being possessed of a sober and cordial disposition, it was hard to discern those thoughts which underlined his tone as he asked, "Will you be making a change, Sir...in my appointment?" "No, sah." William said, and it came out with a little huff of a laugh. "Not at all, though I'll keep you aboard the Heron for the present as Master Carpenter there, and you may choose...what...two subordinates...?" William asked, turning to Dorian. "Aye." Dorian agreed, as the bottle was passed from him to William to Alder.

It was a nice evening indeed, but there will be others. Hundreds of others I imagine. for now, try the mushroom and leeks quiche... Ahhh...Miss Ashcombe is quicker than I am.

Half a moment. Never undertoast cheese. Never...lest ye offend Aristaios.

Flattery will get you extra helpings. Hand me your plate.

I was first introduced to the cheese when I met an elderly woman who spoke no English. And as I spoke nothing but English we conversed solely through text alone, as she and I each possessed a copy of the Good Book in our own languages. She would find a passage to express some aspect of conversation and I would find the corresponding chapter and verse. Then I would respond in kind. We swapped silent passages, nods and smiles for the better part of an hour. Afterwards, she offered me some cheese and bread, the likes of which I have never known again since.

I've made a sharp Arabic cheese and a bread of the same origins. It is...once tasted...dreamt of forever.

Cheese and bread will do for this evening. I'll fetch some from the larder and we'll go down to the beach to toast it and talk of past adventures.

Seabooger...? While talking to Captain Sterling and Miss McDonough last night, it was suggested that we name all of the cannon after Roman gods. Jupiter, diana, Mars, etc. I also suggested naming them after the oceanids. In Greek and Roman mythology, the Oceanids were the three thousand daughters of the Titans Oceanus and Tethys. One of these many daughters was also said to have been the wife of the god Poseidon, typically named as Amphitrite. Each of these nymphs was the patroness of a particular spring, river, ocean, lake, pond, pasture, flower or cloud. Just some of the Oceanids...Acaste, Argia, Asia, Beroe, Kleodora, Calypso, Cerceis, Chryseis, Clio, Daira, Doris, Idyia, Electra, Europa, Galaxaure, Hippo, Ianira, Ianthe, Lysithea, Menestho, Metis, Nemesis, Perseis, Prymno, Rhodia, Styx, Telesto, Tyche There are numerous good names to be had from mythology.

Here is the Spotswood document... By His Majesty's Lieutenant Governor and Commander in Chief of the Colony and Dominion of Virginia, A PROCLAMATION. Publishing the Rewards Given for Apprehending or Killing Pirates. WHEREAS, by an Act of Assembly, made-at a Session of Assembly, begun at the Capital in Williamsburg, the eleventh day of November in the fifth year of His Majesty's Reign, entitled An Act to Encourage the Apprehending and Destroying of Pirates: It is amongst other things enacted, that all and every person or persons, who, from and after the fourteenth day of November, in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Seven Hundred and Eighteen, and before the fourteenth day of November, which shall be in the Year of our Lord One Thousand Seven Hundred and Nineteen, shall take any Pirate or Pirates, on the sea or land, or in case of resistance, shall kill any such Pirate or Pirates, between the degrees of thirty four and thirty nine Northern latitude, and within one hundred leagues of the Continent of Virginia, or within the Provinces of Virginia, or North Carolina, upon the conviction, or making due proof of the killing of all, and every such Pirate, and Pirates, before the Governor and Council, shall be entitled to have, and receive out of the public money, in the hands of the, Treasurer of this Colony, the several rewards following that is to say, for Edward Teach, commonly called Captain Teach or Blackbeard, one hundred pounds; for every other commander of a pirate ship, sloop or vessel, forty pounds; for every lieutenant, master or quartermaster, boatswain or carpenter, twenty pounds; for every other inferior officer, fifteen pounds, and for every private man taken aboard such ship, sloop, or vessel, ten pounds; and that for every Pirate which shall be taken by any ship, sloop or vessel, belonging to this colony, or North Carolina, within the time aforesaid, in any place whatsoever, the like rewards shall be, paid according to the quality and condition of such pirates. Wherefore, for the encouragement of all such persons as shall be willing to serve His Majesty and their Country, in so just and honorable undertaking, as the suppressing a sort of people, who may be truly called enemies to mankind: I have thought fit, with the advice and consent of His Majesty's Council to issue this Proclamation; hereby declaring, the said rewards shall be punctually and justly paid, in current money in Virginia, according to the directions of the said Act. And, I do order and appoint this Proclamation, to be published by the Sheriffs at their respective County houses, and by all Ministers and Readers in the several Churches and Chapels throughout this Colony. Given at Our Council Chamber at Williamsburg, this 24th day of November, 1718. In the Fifth year of His Majesty's Reign. GOD SAVE THE KING. A. Spotswood. [Governor of Virginia, 1710-1722]

Miss Diamond, you may officially consider yourself an honorary Wetlander. Anyone who likes bacon that much will always be welcome in my tavern.

It is never too late. Just way over due. Great shots and a shame about the camera.

Thank you, all. Now...cannon names?

Projects and time have worked against me a bit and I find myself without shoes for PIP, so I shall need a pair.

Ahhhh, Bacon.

The Heron is an English cutter which is only marginally different in shape and size. The Heron, like the Ferret upon which the Mercury is based, was originally equipped with only one mast. The Heron has a fore and aft rigging, while the Mercury is now brig rigged. This is what the Ferret looked like with one mast. The Heron would be very similar. I did begin a draught for the Heron, which has taken a backseat to the Mercury for the present. While it is very tiny, you can see the Heron in my signature picture. Left to Right: The Heron, The Watch Dog and the fluyt, Maastricht.

William takes the tray away from Silkie and places a hand soundly in the middle of her back and guides her to a hammock. "Off with you, sleepwalker."

Aye. Copies will be printed at 20 by 28 inches across and will be for sale at the event. I will probably have a special price for the Mercury crew and some part of every sale will go to the fort.

August 2, 1704 "We would no sooner lose you to illness...than idleness. you're meant to put to sea, ship shape or no. You've too much salt for an island composed of so much sugar." This opinion produced its share of toasts and a few hearty comments on the subject of rum. The conversation traveled this course for a time, falling here and there on the various spirits to be had in the world. It was good conversation, and it was easy to forget that Preston was ailing or that business of any kind lay beyond that plain and comfortable room. It was in those few moments the best upper room any inn could have offered and they talked freely on all subjects. Elsewhere on Martinique it was another matter altogether. Monsieur Binet Gaubert was not man of much imagination. He was a plain man of plain faculties. He worked as well as any man and had been a carpenter all of his days. He rose with the sun and often retired long after the moon still hung high. Today had been no different, for he had spent the better part of the day scouting about in the various hamlets of the countryside, going almost as far as the coast while doing odd jobs here and there in hopes of hearing news about the girl. Adebanke, the young girl he had discovered in the cart road, was ever present in his mind. His patron had suggested that Binet keep her as a slave or servant. Perhaps even sell her if he had a mind to. When he had found her, the idea of keeping her or selling her had been furthest from Binet's mind. His mind didn't work that way. He was not a devious plotter of wealth and opportunity. He was a Carpenter. Pure and Simple. Now it was late. Darkness had settled over Martinique. Binet Guabert reached the outer edges of the Villa de Corneille in the prevailing darkness where he was first heralded by Saint Blasphemy, causing him to first leap, then laugh and then finally to cross himself almost immediately. Binet held up his lantern to find the bird feasting upon some rather gruesome looking entrails from where it sat on a fence post. "That's people he's eating..." he first thought, then corrected this idea. "That's a foolish thing to think." He threw a rock at the bird with no real effort to hit it. It never moved and Binet continued on. He was only some fifty paces further down the road when he noticed two things that seemed altogether wrong. One, it was very quiet. Two, not a single window was lit by candlelight or hearth glow. Not one. Ten small houses spread out along the meadow and cart road that made up the village of Crows and not one looked inhabited. "MERCIER!" he called, truly expecting his dog to answer back. A solitary bark would have sufficed, but there was nothing. There are moments in everyone's lives when they tell themselves that everything has a reason. There are always perfectly good explanations for the strangest of circumstances. And while Binet was not a man of much imagination, he imagined much in that long, deafening silence. Too much. More than once he almost thought he would just turn around and go anywhere but forward. It was the best thing to do of course, but he didn't. Like any reasonable person, he eventually reasoned that everyone was away or asleep. Perhaps the windows were shuttered from within. Perhaps he had guessed the lateness of the hour wrong. Binet went up to the house he had built with his own two hands. He turned the key in the lock of the door he had framed. He crossed the threshold he had constructed and then sprawled upon the floor he had crossed three thousand times before. Tawny stood over the befuddled man still clutching the mallet he had used to hit the Binet unawares. He watched as Binet tried to regain his feet in the light of the sputtering, discarded lantern. "Where's the boy...?" Tawny asked, almost conversationally. "Ce qui..." Binet attempted, but even in French it came out sounding thick and its meaning was lost on his assailant. "The boy...THE BOY!" Tawny yelled, losing his patience almost at once, for in his madness he had forgotten that this was Martinique and that the man might not understand him at all, nor he him. Tawny picked up a large jar and threw it deftly, catching Binet even as he made his feet. The Carpenter went down again like so much weight and confusion, catching his head on the edge of a chair too well built to give. This did almost as much damage as the shattered earthenware, for already he was bleeding profusely and the blood filled one eye. Tawny closed with Binet and then danced away at once as Binet took a swing. Tawny laughed to see the man swing so blindly and he leapt within reach of the him just long enough to strike and jump clear again. This time he landed a blow with the mallet across the man's left knee. The sound was loud in the darkness. Loud enough to cover the entrance of a third brawler. Mercier entered the house. He was a mixed breed of so many mongrels that any definition of breeding was lost on him. He was a dark dog to be sure and thick haired. He was not a pretty or noble animal and was possessed of no more imagination than Binet. It could be said that it was impossible to describe the dog at all apart from a solitary word. Huge. Tawny never saw him coming. In truth, Tawny thought he had killed the dog. He had struck it so soundly over the head with a shovel that he had never imagined that the dog was anything but dead. He had left Mercier in the side yard along with the carcasses of two other unremarkable canines. Now, here it was. Huge. Angry. Loyal. Everything that Tawny despised in dogs from the Watch Dog on down to the lesser mammals. He despised it all the more as it tore up his one good hand in an effort to save a kindly master. Binet responded in kind with the chair that had all but undone his skull. They were three dogs at once then...Tawny, Binet and Mercier. Every one of them in a bidding war of blood.

And...the Mercury herself. She is a brig-rigged sloop built after the order of Bermuda sloops. She is shown with details of her main top and fore top as well as the crosstrees. She is also shown carrying the longboat aft on davits after the fashion of English cutters, which allows her to carry a second small boat on the weatherdecks. She is based primarily off draughts of the Jamaican sloop, Ferret, built in 1711, though I have taken certain liberties to make her different cosmetically, including the addition of a second window on the larboard and starboard stern. This is not the completed image, but it represents her rigging in the most complete form so far. I still have yet to decide on a figurehead, though I may do a winged, female version of Mercury.

Oh, a Mac guy, eh? (just joking...of course) That's Captain Mac Guy to you, Mister.

Here are the many views of the 4 and 6 pounders of the Mercury. She carries 12 swivels and a combination of 12 4's and 6's. We Have about two dozen people attending the Mercury camp at PIP, so for those who are going to be in the Mercury Careening Camp this first year...you may now choose a name for the cannons and swivels. One name each. I wouldn't mind some period nicknames for cannon and I'll take them on a first come, first served basis.

The Mercury draughts are nearing completion, and none too soon, given the time left until PIP. I've completed the Mercury in profile with full rigging and I have designed all of her cannons. I am currently working on her jollywatt, but the longboat is finished. I'm going to be asking a number of questions here on the Pub, so watch for them. Here is a jpeg of the Mercury's longboat, which I recommend we call "the Gullah" (see Gullah here, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gullah ), based on Harry Smid's original suggestion for the brig sloop herself. She is shown with full rigging, though she would carry only oars for her regular duties. She is fashioned after drawings of the period, with some details borrowed from Chapman. Any opposition to calling her Gullah? Did they use the terms, Dorsal view, Stern elevation and so forth on period draughts? The words themselves are period or earlier, but I would love to know what terms to use. when doing the draughts for the Watch Dog, I simply used Bow and Stern and labeled the decks accordingly.

I'm currently listening to the fan in my G4. I need some new music.

August 2, 1704 - At the Chirurgeon's Shop "Whittin’ferd." William said aloud, though it came out so flat it sounded like neither a comment nor a question. If Preston meant to speak then, he didn't, and William pressed forward on the subject of quartermasters. "I think no other man would do for just such a position, though I would expect some caution as to his health." Dorian nodded and was silent, and he and William waited for Preston to speak, but when he said nothing, William continued. "Captain Lasseter shall remain the Quartermaster of the Whole Company, but the Heron and 'Dog are in need of Ship's Masters. It will mean a raise in shares and responsibility, with a decrease in hammock space, but you'll have many a good man...and woman to render the fat of a day's work." William paused, his hands unclasping in a "there you have it" gesture. "The chair has been pulled out. You have but to sit in it."

Four eggs, if you please, Miss Ashcombe. And perhaps pineapple juice for a start this morning.