William Brand

Lime with a hint of mint, salt and sugar.

Banana Chocolate Brunch Cake?

The Ship's Cat... ...and the lengths I'll go to in order to get him to sit still for a photo.

Seconded.

a big thank you to Captain Tightpants for pointing us in the direction of The Accomplisht Cook, or The Art of Mystery of Cookery. We received our copy of it from Amazon today. Great book.

Our lists great and small have only seen a few repeats on the various, separate lists. A few of us like or liked Antelope. Adamant was mentioned by a few. Crow was mentioned, with a footnote of preference to Raven. Dispatch was on at least two lists. Peregrine and Phoenix appreared on favorites of several. Southernmost has appeared on most of the lists, but with an additude toward some change of the name. So let's look at these names. Antelope is a graceful name. We've confirmed that it is period. The definition is straight forward. Adamant is by definition an adjective and a state of mind. It implies determination and perhaps defiance. Now there's Crow and Raven. I would like us to avoid Raven personally, because Raven is overused in my opinion. Just ask yourself, "How many Ravens, Ravenclaws, Ravenwoods, or some other Raven-somethings have you met at renn faires and pirate festivals?" I also happen to like the metaphors and old sayings involving "eating crow" or "as the crow flies" and so forth. Dispatch has the double meaning of a letter and a demise, as in "We dispatched letters of warning to the commonwealth, and when they refused to take warning from them, we were obliged to dispatch them by the sword." Peregrine. Just a straight forward bird of prey. Phoenix is a mythical bird continuously reborn from its own ashes, which might imlpy that it is hard to kill. Southernmost seems to be an inside favorite with some reservations. I can think of no way to change Southernmost without totally changing it. If we add to it, it won't fit on the stern of the ship. If we shorten it, we lose the reason for having it in the first place. So there we have it. Seven names that appeared on at least two lists. Should this be our final selection list? Shall we add anymore?

Mmmmmmm...breakfast.

I LIKE IT! Perhaps THE BEST mariner song written in the modern age GoF I agree. A very good song, and I have yet to hear it and not sing along, but can we have a theme song that begins, "O the year was 1778!" when the careening camp is 1720? Although, since Greg has brought up, I love the idea of a camp song for our ship, whatever we call it. Some thing that sounds especially good when half the chorus is drunk.

Paul made is way below as instructed. He approached the cable tier while Manus and Louis went down the berth deck behind him, searching the spaces as they went. "Have a care there." Manus called out to Paul just before he ran the bolt which secured the cable tier forward. Paul nodded, for he was not one to take Tawny lightly, having seen that smile in the dark once before. Inside, he found the prisoner as they had left him, laid over on his side and bound hand and foot. Owen had lashed the man like a bound cask and for all intents and purposes, the man looked bound still. Paul favored him with a swift kick and Tawny answered with a satisfying groan. "And how do ye find your room...Tawny?" Paul asked with a mock politeness, crouching down as he did so, and he found that he did not like to say the prisoners name aloud. It had become as unfavorable as the man himself, and Paul didn't think he would trust anyone by that name thereafter. Though in truth, he had never known anyone by that name before. "Is it to your liking? Your room? I understand ye find the dark more favorable." Tawny said nothing and Paul left him to his own thoughts and the darkness. With Paul gone, Tawny tested his limited freedom once more. He had slipped his left hand free of the bindings, but only his left. With the arm still secured he could do little but flex his fingers and turn his wrist this way and that. "It's enough, Tawny." he said to himself, reassuringly. "Time and tide, Tawny. Time and tide."

July 27, 1704 - Just off the coast of Martinique. Aboard the Watch Dog "Ahoy the quarterdeck!" both lookouts almost chorused at once. "Longboat on approach off the starboard bow!" "Very good!" William returned from the holy ground, then turned to the coxswain. "Steady as she goes, Mister Warren. Miss Smith! Call the Masters aft, if you please." The Ship's Steward went forward and fetched the Master-at-Arms and Master Gunner. They reported and William sent them forward again to arrange the able seamen and marines in formations, with the marines together armed at attention in the waist and a gun captain at attention alongside each of the cannon on the starboard side. The rest of the men and women remained at their stations below and aloft while the longboat and the Watch Dog made up the diminishing distance between them. Orders went up to haul in every bent sail and the Watch Dog drifted forward only by momentum until it almost halted completely, and before long additional orders rang out to draw in the longboat. William was satisfied that all was well and he remembered almost too late that his French was limited in matters of formality. With Roche aboard the Heron and Marchande, the Maastricht, William called up Pascal and Cobus Casteel. He had just enough time to ask each man to be at the ready to translate, with Pascal acting as the senior translator, and Casteel standing hard by, when the French came over the rail. William stepped forward at once, removing his hat and tucking it beneath his arm. "Bonjour messieurs, je m'appelle...William Brand, Capitaine du Chien de Garde. Mon...traducteur...Pascal." William said, gesturing to the able seaman. Pascal greeted the men and took over at once. What followed was a polite and careful exchange of questions and answers. The Frenchmen asked him several questions regarding the business of the Watch Dog, the Heron and the crippled Maastricht that was edging Eastward towards them from beyond. William explained that they were come from La Margarita and La Blanquilla, bound for Fort Royal to sell prizes at auction to the French. He offered to show cause with the proper papers and documents, but the Frenchmen, satisfied that such business would be settled ashore, welcomed Captain Brand without the need for marques or letters. Still, other questions followed, and when William heard the word 'prisonniers' pass between the men and Pascal, he began nodding before the bale seaman could translate. "Aye. The Dutch and English prisoners are being held aboard the Dutch fluyt, under the supervision of Mister Jacob Badger, who serves as Captain of the Maastricht for this voyage." William began, and then went on to explain the numbers of the English and Dutch held prisoner in the fluyt's holds. He further explained that the Dutch and the English had suffered significant losses, and that their dead, already buried at sea, were not numbered among the prisoners. He made no mention of his recruits and they made no inquiry. Miss Smith arrived in a fashion that was graceful, surprising and inviting, and William was obliged and pleased to introduce her. The Doctor was also introduced and the two men seemed disarmed by the women of the frigate. Tudor smiled warmly at the ship's guests and offered the men a glass of the Watch Dog's finer stock, which they excepted graciously. Toasts and formalities passed between all of them, and William was pleased to hear so much cordial French. It bode well for their stay. Then, when all was finished, they offered Captain Brand some simple instruction and begged his leave to investigate the Maastricht for confirmation. William gave his leave and permission to search the fluyt at their discretion. The Frenchmen departed as carefully as they had come. Down in the darkness, unwatched in the enclosure of the cable tier, the wounded stowaway had finally slipped one of Owen's unfailing knots.

Aye, we do at that.

Bread, cheese and beef barley soup...aye. I'm leaving you in my will.

I neglected to thank Jim for the link. It answered a few questions I've had and it filled in some historical gaps of my own. Thank you, Jim.

I'm narrowing my list a bit more. Adamant Centurion Crow Dispatch Fortune Herald Peregrine Prosperous Phoenix Southernmost

Wow...I'll sew on the buttons in exchange for a coat.

I'm going to do draughts for the ship.

Niiiiice.

“Murder is always a mistake - one should never do anything one cannot talk about after dinner” -Oscar Wilde

A ran down both lists and grabbed as many as I liked with a pure gut reaction. Adamant - It has a defiant sound to it. Centurion - It has a noble ring. It implies might and discipline. Crow - Simple. Carrion. Dark. Omens. What have you. Dispatch - I like the multiple meanings of the word. Fortune - Again, a nice double meaning. Herald - Also a few definitions within a word. Lively - I just liked it. Marmaduke - I may be biased. My first ancestor to arrive in the Americas, came aboard a ship named Marmaduke in 1611. Nightingale - I just like the simple, elegant sound of it. Peregrine - I happen to like falcons. Prosperous - Nice broad defining word. Phoenix - Fire. Rising from the ashes. What's not to like? Antelope - Elegant, but I might like Gazelle or Hart or Stag better. Satisfaction - It implies dark appetites, revenge, mirth Southernmost - As I've stated. The Key West tie-in. Star - Although, Northern Star or Dog Star or some other star might be better.

Too kind, Jacky. Open a tab for Jacky Tar!

A decidely good point and I'll concede that the ship should not bear a Spanish name. Though perhaps, for the sake of background, the sloop WAS named the Cayos de Guevo until it was captured and renamed by English pirates? Just a thought. Then it might be named anything new from Gullah to Dispatch. Once we've decided what the name of the boat should be, we should use the runner up as the name for the Sloop's smallboat, unless we would like to choose that now. I actually think Gullah would be the perfect name for the Sloop's smallboat.

We can then agree that many things taste like heaven and heaven is many things. Here's a little slice of heaven...

I plan to lose quite a few ounds this year. Actually, I plan to lose a few stone. I could stand to lose about 50 pounds, or 3.571 stone weight. I'm in.

You heathens. Heaven tastes like many things. It is described as a feast!

I cross-referenced it in two places. It is a surname, but the early meaning of it is "bone". I'm already in the process of reverse engineering maps for several islands that have no period maps, and almost no modern ones either. For example, La Blanquilla is always just a blob on other charts, like a poorly rendered footnote, so I've had to reference google earth to get a good overhead image of it.