William Brand

^ Aye. Both in varying degrees. < I need to clean the fridge. Something is evolving in there. V Chinese or Japanese take-out?

Another evening at the Kate. The landlocked frigate sits in the dappled light made of sun and shadows from the pecan trees and date palms. If one listens one can just make out the sounds of music from several neighboring establishments.

You own a boat and you won't show us pictures unless we fly to New Orleans. Cruel, lad. Very cruel.

pizza. chicken and garlic with mushrooms.

It seems that a weapons specific thread is now required. You tent tippers!

^ I've done body surfing. The tide on the Sea of Galilea was perfect for it. < I mowed the lawn in the rain today. It took an hour to get the mower working and by then it was raining so I stubbornly mowed anyway. V Ever mowed in the rain?

Seven Hundred and fifty pirates... Say it with me...Seven...Hundred...And...Fifty...Pirates. Aye.

I want more pictures of the boat. Come on. It's been years.

^ Too many things. < I have a lot of catching up to do. V If money and time wasn't a concern, what one pet projects would you like to do that only you can explain?

Jenny, Jenny, Jenny...if the Kate had shares you'd own half the place already. I'll go open the doors for business.

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Just before first bell of the Afternoon Watch Time passed and the longboat went ashore brimming with sailors of the Starboard Watches. The Patricia returned the last of the Larboard Watch almost as the longboat was leaving. William checked his watch and considered some hard words that he might speak, but changed his mind. He went up to the quarterdeck with Dorian to discuss the further matters of new recruits. Then he noted laughing off the Larboard bow and would have dismissed it, but for the barking that accompanied it. He furrowed his brow a bit and went forward and down to the waist. As he made his way forward he heard the barking again and looked out on the approaching cutter. There, perched among the many barrels and passengers, stood a dog. It was a golden tan color like buckskin, but covered in dark stripes of black, almost tiger fashion and William smiled to see such an animal in the Caribbean. It took William a moment to remember the name of the breed for he first thought 'Kammerhunde' and then 'Chamber Dog', believing both might be correct. Still, he had never seen a breed of this particular coloring. "What is that?" he said aloud to anyone within earshot. Pascal, standing at the rail himself, spoke up at once, taking his pipe from his mouth and pointing at the dog with the stem of it. "That, sah, is a German Mastiff." "Ahhh yes. A Kammerhunde...?" "Aye, sah. Very good, sah. One in the same." he said, puffing his pipe and watching the antics of the crew and the dog. "And does that particular hide have a name?" William asked, gesturing to the unfamiliar pattern on the dog. "I do not know colors fr'm colors, sah. A man in the dells kept mastiffs. Good loyal breed." "Indeed." William said, raising an eyebrow, wondering that a dog should be in the cutter. Then he saw Miss Tribbiani trying ever so hard not to watch him and he thought he understood. He stood there with his arms crossed as the cutter bumped up against the Watch Dog. "What's all this?" "Barrels and a dog, sah." Jonathan Hawks said trying not to smile. "Yeesssss...thank you Mister Hawks." William narrowed his eyes, ignoring Pascal who was choking a little at his pipe. "What is it doing in our cutter?" "It wouldn't leave, sah." The blacksmith returned. William shook his head. He shook it for awhile. Siren was already making her way up the side and still trying not to look at him. Then she dropped down beside William and began speaking very fast all at once. "I was attacked in the village. Several men jumped me, well...us...and the dog came at them. He was wounded...but he did worse to the fellow who remained. He might have killed him in fact. We didn't stay. The dog was hurt so..." By this time William had put up a hand to stop the barrage of information aimed at him. He waited a moment after this before speaking. The pup was still barking in the cutter. "You asked for recruits, Cap'n." she explained, attempting levity over common sense. "Recruits, Miss Tribbiani. Recruits. Not pets." "But sah." "Cats we have. Cats for the vermin, and this because we must or risk holes in hearth and home." "There is a mastiff on the prow, Cap'n. Wouldn't it be fitting...?" she tried again. William shook his head very slowly. He had been shaking his head a lot since the conversation began. "Miss Tribbiani. I recognize the poetic aspects of having a dog aboard this particular ship, but symbolism aside, we have no place for a dog." she made as if to speak again, but William raised a hand once more. "And yes, there is a mastiff for a maidenhead, and that mastiff minds the head." He pointed into the cutter. "Will this one mind the head for the sake of the decks?" "Sah...?" "If I may, Cap'n...?" Dorian stepped up a little closer and looked at Siren sympathetically. "What th' Cap'n means ta say is this...Will it soil th' masts and deck beams?" Siren chewed her lip. She seemed exhausted of ideas, but still anxious to argue the point. Ciaran had kept his peace all the while, but he spoke up after the long silence. "Cap'n. You'd have no better night watch. Our good eyes are nothing in the dark." "Thank you, Mister Ciaran." Wiliam said quietly, but whether he was really thankful or not, it wasn't in his voice. William looked at Dorian who returned one of his inexhaustible, quiet shrugs. Then he fixed Siren with a level and absolute look. "This shall be a probationary appointment. The dog is in your charge, and you will find three others to mind the animal while it is aboard. If it can be shown that the dog..." "Argus, sah." she corrected, and blushed for interrupting the Captain. "Argus...of course. Argus." William looked down at Argus who was too small for a dog and too big for a pup. Saying the name in his head, he chanced to wonder if the name referred to Argos, the long-lived dog of Odysseus or Argus, the son of Zues. It might even be the name of the shipwright who built the Argo, but William didn't know or ask. "Gentelmen..." he said, looking around at the crew present for this exchange. "...our newest dog." ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

July 30, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Afternoon Watch begins With the arrival of the noon bell, William and Dorian went out into the sun to those who waited before the mast. A young boy was being lifted over the rail into the waist of the ship and he was directed to Captain Brand at once. The boy presented himself before the captains and snapped off a fairly good salute which inspired a chuckle or two about the crew. Then he presented the note to the captain as if delivering news from higher courts than the docks. William stood aside a moment and read the note. "Very good." he said aloud, rolling it up again and pocketing it. He presented a good round coin to the boy and asked him to wait a moment. Then William stood before the gathered crew and explained that shares would be given to all shore bound watches. No other orders were given apart from reminders of previous ones. Word was sent to the Heron for all watches bound for shore from there to make their way first to the Dog to receive payment. Then William retired to the Ward Room again with Dorian to pay out coin and mark the ledgers. Dorian manned the books while William penned a note to go ashore again to Mister Pew. An anxious line of able seamen began to form along the passageway in short order. ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

He seemed slightly perturbed that she should ignore his question, but he chose to answer hers instead of repeating himself. "You are to take this to Monsieur Chaimoiseu. The cheesemaker..." he added, as if Jenny might not remember a man she saw almost twice on any given week. "He will give you an order intended for the pantry. See that it goes to the pantry." He did not wait for an answer from her. He was quickly returning to his old self and he left the kitchen without another word. For him, the dark deeds of the day had already come and gone.

July 30, 1704 - Martinique He waited a moment after she broke the contact before continuing. He looked more thoughtful now that he had begun to speak and his tone became more genuine, which was to say, that he became more of his usual removed self. He straightened a little and let his hands fall behind his back, returning his gaze to the window. Daniel was trying in vain to sneak up on a hummingbird who was at the flowers on the garden wall. The bird seemed oblivious to the clumsy cat of a boy, but Daniel tried again and again to grab at it from half a yard away. "Césaire found the weapon with one of the slaves." Darius continued. "A cane knife I believe." He watched Jenny absorb this brutal tidbit of information without much relish. "Another slave...a girl...is missing. Sister or daughter to the murderer I expect. I do not know." Jenny sat down in a chair by the door, unable to do anything else for the moment. "His siblings..." she said, but could not elaborate. "This is what comes of kindness to slaves." Darius said, beginning down that well trod road for the hundredth time. "Slaves must understand their place. Better to to keep strange dogs without tether, than a slave with any notion of its place." Only Darius could command such a soapbox as this, to speak so much vinegar after such news. He went on uninterrupted for five full minutes on the evils of trusting a slave. Jenny had heard it all before, so much in fact, that she could recite whole sentences from memory. Still, she heard little, for she was so distracted by the idea of Basile de Mofras struck down with some wicked weapon that she did not hear Darius' words. It was only when she realized that he was looking at her that she was certain that he had asked her a question, but she did not know what it was that he had asked.

I am well. It was a good day all in all. I started off in a bad mood, but I am much better now.

^ Too many things. < I wish I didn't have to sleep at all tonight. V do you write poetry?

July 30, 1704 - Martinique Darius St. James stood a while in the doorway off of the hall and looked quite uncertain whether he was coming or going. After several attempts to stay or leave he simply stopped and remained in the doorway. What had first seemed like the usual dismissive mood with which he greeted all about him, now seemed like much, much more. It was as if the man were lost in thought, almost sleepwalking. He was a long time standing and saying nothing and he made no attempt to do anything else at all. Then the noon bell was struck out on the plantation grounds and Darius began to speak as if cued. "Please send out the children." he said in a removed way. Jenny wasn't certain which bothered her most. The request that she send the children away and remain alone with the man, or the fact that he said 'please', and in a way that sounded so utterly distant. Still, she urged the children out into the side yard. Then she waited for the other shoe to drop. "I've just come from up the road..." he said in an absent minded and matter of fact way. His tone was even but void of any real commerce. It had an unreal quality to it, almost false, as if Darius himself did not quite believe that he had been on the road. He set down a large wrapped parcel on a chair near one of the windows, which faced out towards the lane, and he stood a moment in the light. He was so long in continuing whatever train of thought that he had had that Jenny almost prompted him with a question, just to break the silence, but he continued to speak just as she would have asked it. "Basile Duflot...he's..." "What can be th' matte..." Jenny began, worried now that something must truly be wrong to have left such a well versed man so short of words, but Darius cut her off. "Someone has murdered the young Master de Mofras."

^ My first thought was "foreplay". Sorry, I suppose you were looking for a food answer. <It snowed again today. What month is this? V I'll pass the question on.

^ I spent two hours wandering a used bookstore in California recently. I came away with three books. All of them excellent finds. ^ I would love to live over a bookstore. Or an artstore. V Favorite bookstore?

"Once the Maastricht is bought from us I shall send out word for new able seamen and we shall see what becomes of it. If our fortune continues, we may secure enough to have our pick from among many. I should like enough that I might raise a few more of our own as marines." "Aye." Dorian agreed. "Raise only the Irish." William ammended, smiling as he refreshed Dorian's glass. They both drank a toast to that as a knock came at the Ward Room door. Mister Warren put his head in and informed them both that the watches were assembling before the mast. "Ahhh, excellent." Dorian raised one questioning brow and William fetched the coin from the Ilex bartering. He plopped the bag on the table, inviting Dorian to peruse the contents with a wave of his hand. Dorian spilled out the heavy coins and nodded his approval. "That's but a fraction of the take, and we are minus but one of the bags from Our Lady of Ilex." William said smiling again. Then he grew solemn and compounded this joke by crossing himself twice with wine glass in hand.

^ Hamlet. Up near the top. I've also enjoyed The Three Musketeers, Don Quixote, and King Lear. < The Good Book is also a favorite both as a piece of literature and for its importance as a historical shaping instrument. V Favorite play?

"There are not many to be had ashore outside of Frenchmen and a mix of half a dozen nations. I would give a share or two up to have some Englishmen, despite this war." Dorian nodded. William wasn't sure he was thinking the same thing, but he continued along this line of conversation. "I'm considering a tactic of recruitment normally reserved for the Royal Navy." he paused and sipped his wine a moment. "The Fort Royal prison must have an english tongue or two wasting away in the dark there. What think you of taking on some condemned men, with the understanding that they reform any of their too wayward ways before liberation? Would you oppose adding a few convicted conscripts to your numbers?"

^ Varied. Chaotic. I don't ever read on a regular basis. I sometimes don't finish books I've started. < I'm planning on reading a few very old books this summer. V Favorite book that you never finished?

Don't apologize for being too serious. We need a good mix of serious and relaxed, and those who can make expert kits should do so. I'm glad to see so many trying so hard. It means that PIP will have a fine camp that will make simple and great kits all look good. If no one objects, I plan to take a lot of camp pictures for some painting projects, so I may ask a lot of you to lounge about the camp drinking and working for a photo op or two. I need a lot of references for some new art.

^ No, no and no. In that order. Why? No reason, I just prefer literature to stay in its place. < I'm currently reading a little book called "Farewell to Valley Forge". Not a bad piece of writing. I like a good book. V List ten favorite books.