William Brand

Than the vote is defined as follows... Sloop -One mast (2) Brig Sloop - Two mast (3)

I agree with Patrick. In the interest of keeping a few buccaneers from lying awake with worry at PIP I also recommend that we choose another name.

The shore party at Fort Royal on Martinique The small band wended their way through the crowd of workers and tradesmen that spilled into the various streets near port. Many of the men, women and children they passed seemed to be in fair health and showed some signs of prosperity, and the general mix of individuals was broad enough to suggest that many of these people came from different cultures and backgrounds. Still, there was no mistaking the continuous use of unmistakable French, for everywhere they went they heard the sound of it. At Desirade, French influence had been present, but it was much more self evident in Martinique. It was demonstrated in fashion, language and architecture wherever they went. Everyone in the shore party seemed to enjoy the walk through the crowd, though they all walked slowly at first. Their sealegs took the better part of fifteen minutes to find the rhythm of the immovable Earth, but by then Mister Pew had led them into streets which spoke of trade and commerce. William chanced to see a young thief attempt to pick the pocket of the Master-at-Arms. He was in the act of calling this to Preston's attention when Preston caught the young lad by the wrist and snapped the small bag back from him again. "Vermine!" Mister Pew spat, and kicked the boy hard enough to send him sprawling. William was amused to hear the Master-at-Arms use French almost without thinking of it and he had a chance to wonder if the majority of Preston's French would be limited to curses and choruses bent on more vulgar subjects. William smiled to think of him carrying on in taverns and alehouses, dealing out an abuse of French profanity. Mister Pew chanced to look at William as he smiled on this thought. "We'll need to warn th' lads about that, Cap'n" he said, pointing after the retreating sneak-thief. "Aye." William agreed, and then he thought on another matter suddenly, for the use of French had sparked an idea. "Mister Pew, we might have the advantage of the auction houses and tradesmen if we were to feign an ignorance of the language." "Playact poor French...?" he returned, with a cocked brow. "Aye." William agreed, then added, "Though I do not think it will be playacting for me. My French is...ridicule!" "Aye." Preston agreed too quickly. "By all means, Mister Pew. Flatter my poor French." Claude laughed, as did William, but he pressed the matter, chiding Claude with no real feeling as he did so. "Mister Marchande might keep his use of most excellent français to himself while we pretend at it poorly. In this way we might learn their misgivings and secret understandings of the barterers as we go."

This morning's special is German pancakes with your choice of fruit toppings.

The oldest ship design we would base the sloop on is the Ferret from 1711, but our boat would probably have a launch date of 1713 or later, making it less than 7 years old, and with a few careenings under her belt, she would still be in good shape. The vote is now... Single Mast (2) Double Mast (3)

I like breakfast at 10 o'clock at night.

Morning Star was twice as popular in the last vote as Solstice. I don't mind the Cutthroat reference, because I'm not too certain it will come up often. I didn't remember it until it was mentioned. Still, I like both names and will gladly side with the majority on that. And speaking of majority, we still need a few votes turned in on the subject of masts. The tally is currently 1 for a single mast and 3 for two masts.

My most profound sympathy for them and the ship. I hope she can be rescued very soon.

Always a pleasure. I hope it was a grand party where you were.

"There is nothing worse than aggressive stupidity." - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“There is nobody as enslaved as the fanatic, the person in whom one impulse, one value, has assumed ascendancy over all others.”

“There is no place in a fanatic's head where reason can enter.” - Napoleon Bonaparte

The Muster for the Heron, Watch Dog, and Maastricht are posted in the Tome.

A fine foie gras with a chianti.

There isn't a period vessel that I am aware of named the Solstice, and I no of no other reference to Solstice in popular culture.

Some would call it singing, but as the night progresses, I do think din would be more to the point.

We shall feast the night away in revelry and merriment, producing such a din as to attract the attention of all the neighboring establishments!

Martinique - Fort Royal Docks on the Cul du Sac Royal The first shore party The longboat arrived at the Fort Royal docks where they were greeted by a small crowd of curious onlookers, a handful of dock hands and a few official men flanked by guards and secretaries. One of the more official looking gentlemen approached the boat even as they were tying it off. "Jour De Dieu...Capitaine? Parlez-vous français?" He inquired. "Oui, mais...mon homme le...parle mieux." William returned, gesturing to Claude Marchande. Marchande picked up the cue at once and began translating between Captain Brand and the Dock Master, one Jean Jacques Rousseau. The Maître de Dock, Monsieur Rousseau, proved to be amiable enough. He was a weathered, middle-aged fellow who wore all of the simpler finery of a man of his position, but with the unusual affectation of a straw hat set with crow feathers, and William chanced to see a raucous number of these crows at the face of a caged man some several weeks dead, hanging just where the dock and the land met. Whether Monsieur Rousseau noticed William's notice of the condemned man, he made no outward sign of it. He simply extended his welcome and there was an exchange of dock fees and official papers, with Marchande confirming any confusions caused by the two languages. The Dock Master was thorough in his questioning, leaving no stone unturned. William was asked to sign a dock ledger, which he did with the tall flourish indicative of his signature. In addition to the questions, Monsieur Roousseau took note of the crates, already made clear by the letters of Marque in William's possession, and finding nothing to give him pause, he waved them on to their business. "Ask him, 'To whom would we go to deliver prisoners?', if you please, Mister Marchande." William asked before they departed Rousseau's company, never taking his eyes from the man's face as a courtesy, and Claude and Monsieur Rousseau discussed this at length. After a moment or two, Rousseau offered one of his aids to show them to the proper place, but with the business of the pistols to come first, William waved off the offer gratefully, informing Monsieur Rousseau that he would search out the matter at a later hour. "Comme vous souhaitez, Capitaine." "Merci, Monsieur Rousseau." Their introductions to the Fort Royal docks made, the small band continued down the dock, passing the murder of crows dining amidst the mingling crowd. ~Larboard Watch on Duty~

A very, very happy birthday to you, Miss Ashcombe. Here's to many more!

Arrrrrr! A song! A song! We'll have a song now!

William discovered Miss McDonough looking him up and down and cocked an eyebrow in her direction. She flushed a little, and William looked down at himself to see what could have drawn her attention, but remiss to discover her interest, he fixed her with a smile and turned to the Master-at-Arms. "Mister Pew, gather your men at the longboat to go ashore." "Aye, aye!" The Captain of Marines, turned on his heel and barked out orders to a handful of chosen men as he went down the ladder to the main deck. William sent for Miss Smith to have her send for Mister Warren, but upon her arrival, he changed his mind. He smiled then, as he was want to when enjoying some inner thought, and he tipped his hat to her. "Miss Smith, the ship is yours." For a moment she looked as if she hadn't heard him at all, but then a smile replaced her blank expression. "Thank you, Captain." She said solemnly, and the shadow of a previous life passed over her entire countenance. "Let no tradesmen below deck. They may come aboard to barter with Mister Lasseter when he returns, but no tradesmen below decks. You may entertain them as you see fit amidships..." William said, and paused. "Mister Dorleac! Come here, lad!" Jean Dorleac came running over from below the Fo'c'sle deck and ascended the stairs at once. "Yes, sah?" "You are to fetch hand and foot for Miss Smith in my absence. Steward to a Steward. Do you understand?" "Aye, sah!" William turned again to Tudor. "See that the lookouts watch horizons and shorelines, but not for taverns or boarding houses. Remind them that the navies of the world are restless." "Aye, Captain." "Very goode, Miss Smith." he said, nodding, and he turned to cup his hands at the rail. "Send word to Mister Lasseter that the Captain and company are gone ashore!" "Aye, aye!" Bill Flint returned from across the water from where he stood on the Maastricht's forward decks. Then William went down to the waiting longboat and the crew aboard her. He took a seat at the front as it pushed off from the 'Dog. the boat began to bob at once in the soft waves of the Cul du Sac Royal. The sweeps fell quickly into step and the small boat moved past the fyne women and the tradesmen who bid for their chance to come aboard. Back on the quarterdeck, Jean Dorleac turned to Tudor. "Five shares for a Steward..." he thought aloud, patting an imaginary purse. "Get along you impish monkey." she said, chiding him in good humors. ~Larboard Watch on Duty~

Arrrr! This be me motorrrrrcycle! I have dreams of salvaging all the time.

Pickles is a great name for a cat, although I'm not sure why. Seconded. Mister Pickles.

William returned to the ward room and prepared a satchel of documents for his trip inland. He gathered up his logbook, the letters of marque, and a copy of the ship's roster. He placed these carefully into the bottom of the satchel along with some coin, a second pistol and the newly acquired watch. Then he made his way forward to the surgery and put his head in at the surgery door to see how the patients were mending. Ajayi at upright in a bunk along the starboard wall wearing his share of bandages and looking as though he had tangled with a dangerous animal, and thinking this, William was reminded that that had been the very case. Still, for all of his hurts, Ajayi looked as strong as an ox and he fixed William with his usual look of quiet strength. Miss Wardell was not to be seen, and Chanault explained that she was in the secluded privacy of Tempest's inner room, where she might recover away from 'men's eyes.' William understood of course, given her recent travail, and he made no effort to see her for the moment. Instead, he went out onto the gundeck and ordered a small boat over the side of the frigate. ~Larboard Watch on Duty~

I think a few of the Watch Dog crewmembers would be interested as well. I would like several myself.