William Brand

Some pot options... http://www.cajunshoppe.com/cast4j.htm And the six gallon pot... http://www.cajunshoppe.com/cast5.htm Lehman's makes sugar kettles, but they are a lot more... http://www.lehmans.com/shopping/product/de...7&iProductID=54 Or perhaps something a little more primative... http://www.antiqaccents.com/ATQ105.html

^ A slinky, black, Holloween cat named Anubis. < I'm a cat person, generally speaking. I like almost all animals, but I am a cat person, more than a dog person. Ironically. V Passing the question..

Admittedly, 'implied' isn't the right word... I believe we have the makings of our kitchen staff, and in the interest of gathering equipment, I volunteer to buy a large iron tripod for hanging pots, unless some other ironware is preferred. I feel that if we offer at least one group meal a day, we could save a lot of money, so let us say that there will be one group meal a day. It wouldn't have to be the same meal every day, but we'll discuss that once we have a cook. We have an open call for Ship's Cook. Anyone may volunteer or nominate another for the position.

I believe that it has been implied that there will be both group cooking and some individual cooking. Planning will increase as the time draws closer. We should begin a list of camp items we need as a group that can vbe shared about. Example: One person buys a water bucket. A few people buy lanterns. I'll begin an inventory list as soon as people begin explaining kit and camp items they are bringing to PIP.

I'm going to make some hardtack soon and then put it away for six months prior to PIP, so we should have plenty of hardtack.

That sounds like an altogether wicked combination.

Oh, I know what Silkie is suggesting. She's caught the bacon bug that is Baconfest. Now, the logistics of having a true Baconfest in a place with no kitchen presents its share of problems, but with half a year until PIP and more than a handful of us arriving early, it isn't impossible. A name would have to be chosen, and Baconfest South doesn't sound right to me, especially if held in a place called Key WEST. However Baconfest West doesn't work either, being so far South and East of Baconfest itself. However, Baconfest Ahoy has a certain ring to it... Regardless...we're beginning to hijack this thread a bit, and so to stay on track, we should discuss the matter privately some time and then began a new thread once we've decide if a Baconfest will work into the PIP program.

Baconfest is a celebration that was begun by Ty Coleman some years back. We gather every year to celebrate bacon. Everyone brings a dish with bacon in it. It does not have to be primarily made of bacon, but it must be an ingredient. It is generally celebrated in Renn Faire style clothing, with no particular period in time being represented. It is held in my Tavern behind the house, which can seat some 50 people at best. This year marks the 15th Annual Baconfest, and in light of the anniversary, Silkie has offered to start our first independent Baconfest offshoot, which we have dubbed Baconfest East. Both events are being held simultaneously on Saturday, October 13th. We will have some fifty people at Baconfest, and while Baconfest East promises to be a lot smaller, we are very excited to have an offshoot. Are there any other questions...?

July 29, 1704 - At Martinique William could not answer any of Maeve's comments or observations before Captain Lasseter, the search party and two strangers made their way into the sunlight. Pew and Claude were squinting hard into the outside light, while Bill Flint looked untouched by it. All three of them passed a quick 'Sah' his way and William and Dorian exchanged the courtesy of title, calling one another 'Captain'. The remaining two said nothing, but for a nod from Jean Doublet. Maeve realized that judgments of height were somewhat erroneous in the face of the two giants of the company. The two men had stooped coming out the door, and they cast a shadow large enough to almost stand in. The 'surly' looking one proved to be the Watch Dog's Master-at-Arms, whose countenance was based on the previous nights revelry and the morning's sharp light. He looked as though daylight did not agree with him at the moment, but he was still pleasant enough to introduce Jean Doublet and Luc Otkupschikov. Pleasantries and introductions were exchanged all around, with William taking extra care to ask after Dorian's health. Captain Lasseter, never long for any injury, and not one to seek after public sympathy in any form, passed over his own injury as if it were no more than a scraped knee. He did however thank Maeve for seeing him to the inn at such an unreasonable hour and assured her that he was well enough to walk the streets at least as far as the docks. . . . Back at the docks, Robert Thatcher and Patrick Hand arrived in the company of four of the new Dutchmen, Reind Halster, Loures Loerwairt, Klaas Scymmelpenninck and Andries Smit. All of them were anxious not to be numbered among the last to report back to the 'Dog, despite a very welcome shore leave. They were laughing as they came down the docks, with much translation passing back and forth among them, and poor translation it was. They seemed to be laughing as much about one another as any other topic when they reached the docks and found Miss Tribbiani there guarding the boats. Six bells of the forenoon Watch ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

William commented on this last question as casually as a he would have about a turn in the weather. "We have almost eighty crew members between the whole company and we number some eight ladies among that count. A veritable tithe of women." This phrase brought a smile to Tudor's face and she nodded, adding, "Indeed, Cap'n." William placed a hand on his Steward's shoulder and looking at Maeve declared, "Our very own Miss Smith here, unaware of her place in the world, did strike the enemy colors aboard the Dutch fluyt Maastricht only a few days ago. she scattered her enemies in the progress and earned the accolades of a grateful crew, myself among them." Tudor snorted at the remark about her 'place in the world', recognizing what light William made of what she considered a most antiquated notion, and she raised her chin at the pronouncement of her recent bravery. The world might think what it may, but young Miss Smith, a foot below her enemies, had surpassed them in stature in a boarding to shake the bravest man. "You might be surprised to learn that we number a woman chirurgeon among our company who is as skilled a surgeon as I have met, and being who I and what I am...I have seen many."

'Fortuitous', William thought, but simply returned the greeting in a like fashion, nodding as he replied, "Miss Smith." "Captain Lasseter and Mister Pew are within, Sah. Shall I fetch them?" William shook his head, smiling and pleased to hear that Dorian was up and about and already engaged in a second day's purchases. He stepped towards the shop, but stopped, and gesturing to the lady chirurgeon he said, "Miss Smith, allow me to introduce Miss O'Treasaigh. Miss O'treasaigh. Miss Tudor Smith, our ship's Steward."

William turned to Treasure and asked her to remain with the jollywatt and longboat. She was to keep guard over them until some marine of the Starboard Watch could relieve her position there ashore at the noon hour. Then he turned again to the newly acquainted woman, and said. "Lead on, Miss O'Treasaigh." They went slowly at first, wending their way through the crowds. As the numbers of people dwindled, they reached one of many rising streets which led up into the towns surrounding Fort Royal. They passed houses and shops mingled together in a fashion that was common to those of Europe, but with an island quality that made the architecture unique. They kept to the side of the streets that were out of the sun, for the shade was welcome, passing a few modest fountains along the way. William and Alan made small conversation with their new acquaintance, with William asking but one real question as they went. "How did you come to be in Martinique, Miss O'Treasaigh?"

July 29, 1704 - At the docks Alan approached Maeve in several quick strides. "My apologies, Ms. O'Treasaigh. The crossing required more time than first expected." She was not surprised by this nor troubled, for she was absent from the small shop often enough on errands required by her chosen profession that time was seldom so important, and she said as much to Alan. She reassured him that she had been no more prompt than he had been. He offered his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, careful to shoulder his musket to the opposite arm. Then he lead her back through the throng to where the Captain and Miss Tribbiani waited. Treasure was practicing some phrases of French with the befriended stray boy. The young man had finally slowed down enough in speech to echo each word she attempted back to her, so that she might hear the sound of it. He was forever dipping his hand in his own pocket as they spoke to reassure himself of the recent coins he had been given. Between the tips of service given him by Mister Flint, Alan, and the Captain, he had more to spend in his pocket than he usually saw in all the summer months. William was looking Westward and South at the bay's entrance, leaning a little on his tall cane as he did so, or more to the point, allowing the cane to lean on him. His eyes were narrowed against the glare off the sea and Maeve couldn't decide if he looked older or younger than she had expected. He turned to them as they approached. "Cap'n. May I introduce Maeve O'Treasaigh?" "You may." He said with the comfortable smile of a man used to meeting all sorts of people. Then he swept his hat off in a way that belied his understanding of that art, for the removal of one's hat can express so many things, and this time he had chosen to give the smallest of pauses as he went, so that it came off as a kind of casual bow, tinted with a deliberateness that made the gesture flattering. "Charmed...and grateful."

Ah, fine improvements. Quicker downloading. Better legibility. A marked improvement which I am sure will be enjoyed by the many pirates in your part of the world.

^ Yes. Or yes and yes, if you prefer. It's a labor of love and hate. so much to do, so little time and money. < I'm doing vast improvements this year. Escpecially on the tavern. V Do you own any outbuildings?

July 29, 1704 The Larboard crews of the 'Dog emptied the St. Kitt in short order, so that the Captain might be ferried to shore. William ordered Treasure Tribbiani to join them at the rail for the crossing, reminding her to fetch her things for her night ashore, for noon was imminent. Treasure looked delighted at the prospect of going again so soon to shore, and she fetched up a proper pistol and a sailor's bag for the journey. When they crossed the Cul du Sac Royal they found the docks already choked with small boat traffic from many quarters. Merchants and sailors mingled shoulder to shoulder up and down the sunlit docks. Here they found the small boy who had been continuously engaged to guard the Samson. He smiled to see Alan again and made a point to show that the jollywatt had remained unmolested during the marine's absence. William passed a fat shilling to Mister Woodington who passed it in turn to the boy. "Ms. O'Treasaigh agreed to come again to the docks as escort, Cap'n." Alan said, looking about the shoreline. "Very well, Mister Woodington. Seek her out." The Larboard Marine moved off through the pressing crowds in search of the woman. The boy, lingering with his happy coin, offered his continued service with French spoken so quickly, that Wiliam had to ask him three times to 'parlez plus lentement'. Still the boy spoke at a pace beyond William's ear, and he gave the boy another six pence, just to quiet him. "We have fed the cat, Miss Tribbiani." William said, resigned. "Sah...?" she said, called back from her wandering thoughts as she looked about the busy docks. "The boy. He'll never leave now." "Aye, Sah." she said smiling. "Like cats around the 'Kate." "Aye." William agreed, and he was forced to smile. "I'm to kind to strays." "That you are." she nodded, knowingly. Then she quickly added. "Sah." Five bells of the Forenoon Watch ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

^ I am not allergic. I have been stung a few times with no more of a side effect than cursing insects aloud. < It is raining outside and the valley is starting to really green-up for the first time. It truly looks like the first day of Spring outside and I am anxious to begin my Spring and Summer projects. V Any yard developments this year? New plantings? New alterations around the house?

^ Always. < I have friends who would do so for me, and almost have. V Have you ever been attacked by a wild animal?

Just the other day I was reflecting about the earaches I knew as a child. I haven't had a bad one for years. Today I experienced one for hours that utterly handicapped me. What did I learn...? Never ponder on old ailments. Cosmic irony is hanging over you at all times.

I'm feeling much better and I believe I've earned a little pie...

Send me your address and I'll mail you an autographed bag. Minus the litter of course. Far too heavy.

^ Perspective on my fears, but no new ones. < I have become decidely more protective of those close to me. V Is there anyone here that is afraid of water?

July 29, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Between Three and four bells of the Forenoon Watch William dressed in attire more appropriate to his station as Captain, though he did this primarily for whatever public he might encounter ashore. He dressed in the dark coat which Kendra had fashioned for him, despite the promise of heat already in the air. He wore a red waistcoat under this to add contrast and color. He wore the only baldric he owned, which was dark, plain and made of well worn leather. Into this he fixed the cutlass he had worn for so many years and placed but one pistol in his belt. Eric Franklin knocked firmly on the Ward Room door and William bid him enter. "Mister Franklin, I am sorry to rouse you from your hammock, but I have received a report that Captain Lasseter has been assaulted ashore and I mean to go there to see that it is not too serious a matter." Eric looked surprised, but steadfast. He nodded and waited for his orders, but before William could assign him any duty, another knock came at the Ward Room door and this time Alan Woodington reported with a salute. "Sahs." "Report, Mister Woodington." "Mister Pew and the search party arrived at the docks very early this morning. They have not discovered any evidence of the fugitive Tawny. I believe they took rest in town." "Go on." "Early this morning we received supplies purchased by Captain Lasseter. They came by way of cart and wagon and we proceeded to load them into the two larger boats ashore. While we were employed, an Irish woman by the name of...O'Treasaigh...arrived with news that she had mended Captain Lasseter. He was attacked during the night and he is now recovering at an inn ashore." "Have you any further word of him?" "No, Cap'n. Ms. O'Treasaigh seemed confident of his...mending, and so we thought to let him rest while we brought news straightway." "Very good, Mister Woodington." William nodded, fetching one of three bags from the Ward Room strongbox. He tossed the bag of mixed jewelry onto the table next to his hat. "Gentlemen, I mean to go ashore for a time and inquire after the Captain's health. I shall also be selling the first of the Ilex goods. I will take Mister Woodington with me ashore. Mister Franklin, you will see to the stowing of the supplies and the regulation of the work crews." "Aye, Cap'n." Eric said with a nod. William fetched up his hat, a few papers and the bag of mixed specie. "I shall not return before noon, so you will be required to turn out the Larboard Watches ashore. Remind them to revel with care." ~Larboard Watches on Duty~

I'm in the mood for brisket. Of course...I usually am.

Red Wake is just a nickname anyway. You can call me William.