William Brand

Aye...what does it remind me of?

After many internet and email issues, Capn William's flag is finally complete. The bravado of crossed cannons... I think it would make a nice avatar...

This was a list I found a long while back which I believe I gleaned from "Demon of the Waters". A book about life and mutiny aboard a whaling ship. This was the decription of an average sailor's belongings. Pine chest: Boots Pants Shirts Drawers Needles Thread Sheath Knife Buttons Dipper Dish Two Bars of Yellow Soap Jacket Two blankets Bible

Mister Flint looked uncomfortable at the interchange that passed between the Captain and the Surgeon. Each of them had good cause to say what they had said, but the chill that followed the aftermath of the conversation was worse than the stiff wind that buffeted the Watch Dog. William stood with a face that spoke little of his thoughts, watching Tempest walk away. Watching her move away was like watching a departing storm that had passed over without one drop of rain shed. It was disquieting and beautiful at the same time. Proud and dark. "Mister Flint." "Captain." "Be so good as to remain in the Doctor's company. She may wish to speak poorly of me at present and may require an ear on which to bend her feelings at present." Mister Flint didn't know how to take this at all and he couldn't be sure if the Captain was joking or not. In fact, since arriving on deck he had not yet learned why there was so much commotion about the ship. Still, when William showed no sign of amusement or alteration, Mister Flint snapped off an 'Aye, Aye' and went to the Doctor. William remained.

Today's Special is Moroccan Couscous 1 lb (500g) chicken breast (approx 4 chicken breasts) 1/2 cup corn oil 3 cloves garlic, chopped 1/2 lb (250g) tomatoes, chopped 1 cup fresh parsley, chopped (or 2 tsp dried parsley) 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/8 tsp saffron threads, crushed 5 small turnips 2 small carrots, sliced 1 large acorn squash; peeled, seeded, cut into 2" pieces 3 small zucchinis/courgettes, diced 1 lb (500g) lentils 1 lb garbanzo beans/chickpeas canned or dried, ground 2 1/4 cups water 3 cups couscous (about 18 ozs/512g) 4 cups chicken broth 1.75 tsp calcium powder

...

William stood, not facing shore, but facing forward. It took a practiced calm to keep his eyes off of the beach head as he watched to see that all of his orders were carried out. The windlass was turning under the sheltered part of the gun deck and the crew of the Jollywatt were throwing in their efforts in preparing the Samson to go over the side. The Watch Dog herself was making slow progress, for the wind was not altogether favorable. Mister Badger was forced to give and then countermand his own orders more than once in an effort to wrangle the ship against the strong and steady wind coming off the island. Mister Flint came up to the quarterdeck and snapped to attention. William was struck by a familiar air of nostalgia far too removed to be enjoyed at present, but he gave Mister Flint his full attention. "Captain I realize that now is an inopportune moment, but tis my duty to inform you that we've had an unfortunate occurence in the surgery." William nodded. The solitary gesture expressed the acknowledgment and understanding of the term "unfortunate occurrence. "Go on, Mister Flint." The truth is, William did not want Mister Flint to go on. Right then and there he did not want him to say anything at all. He would have preferred to hear no bad news at this moment, but Flint was as right to tell him as he was right to know. A Captain must know all things aboard his ship whenever they occur. Mister Flint's posture was formal, but his tone was slightly apologetic, for there was so much noise about the ship at present that Mister Flint was forced to pass on the news of Lady Ana's passing in a volume that was less than reverent. William nodded slowly. His feelings were mixed enough that he dared not voice them aloud. There were times as Captain that he was forced to be unpleasantly pragmatic in the face of death and he was guiltily glad that of anyone in surgery, Ana had been the one to go. This pragmatism was enough to make him feel a little less than human, but an experienced sailor was more valuable to the Watch Dog's preservation and maintenance than a passenger, no matter her station. Still, the loss was felt. He had to shake off the thought that the Watch Dog was a funerary barge. Instead, the Doctor shook it off for him, for she came up upon them like a wave. "I wish to be on the first vessel which crosses over." He turned to her. Neither her request nor her suddenness surprised him in the least. He expected that several others on and off the ship were want to make the same demand, for Mister Lasseter was well liked, which was uncommon for a man over so many. Even the Captain himself wanted to dive overboard with nothing but a trailing life line in search of the man. The only thing that kept him aboard was Ilex's vague description of the cave and the hope that it was cavernous enough to offer the Quartermaster air and refuge. This was a vain hope and so he looked at her a moment before speaking, understanding all too well her need to plunge headlong into dangers unknown. In the end he explained his decision as concisely as possible, measuring the pros and cons of sending the ship's only surgeon in to harm's way for a solitary soul. He did not delight in his decision, especially given their exchanges, compliments and conversation just moments before. He chose his words very carefully. He did not want to upset her anymore than the immediate matters, but his answer, he knew, was still very close to a backhanded slap under the circumstances. "No."

A very good question. I will speak with the event planners this week and post times and info as soon as possible. now that the event is shorter, I'm hoping they will allow us to set up the night before the festival begins. -W.R.W.

The conversation between the Captain and the Ship's Surgeon had turned to a silence that was as much a part of the conversation as the words had been. They watched the seemingly peaceful shore for a time when two things happened almost at once. First, William noted, even without the aid of the spyglass, that a commotion had begun on shore. A subtle one. Someone came from the cave entrance for tools and went down again before William could accurately determine who it was. The wind continued while the next bell came and went. They passed the time touching on no particular subject, content to let the conversation go where it would. Little changed ashore until another figure returned to the sunlit beach. William raised the glass and recognized Chanault at once. The man's features were too removed by distance to be perceived, but after a time the man bowed his head and William was left to wonder what this meant. He had scarce begun to ponder on this when he felt the slightest tug under his feet. He gave this no more notice than any other elements working upon the Watch Dog, unaware that the tide had shifted again toward Los Hermanos. "They have been beneath the island for some time." William said aloud. His tone was matter-of-fact, and brooked no concern, but he watched Chanault just the same to see what the man might do next. "Oui." she replied, equally nonplused. Then a commotion played out on the beach which lasted only a little while, but played out for what seemed like hours. The wind, which had been strong all afternoon, carried back a solitary cry... "The Tide!" What followed was a tremendous tension played out in the mortal mathematics of men and the sea. Men, already above the subterranean depths of Los Hermanos, sprung into action at the cave entrance. William gripped the glass a little, noting the way in which they moved, careful to watch their body language. They appeared concerned, even from her and he counted each disappearance and reappearance with a calm that required a sheer force of will. He noted that the good Doctor had lost all of her conversation as she joined him in his stoic dance of nerves. Neither of them spoke a word, but William glanced up to the watches from time to time as Ciaran sounded of the names from his high vantage point on the main mast. "Marchande...! Smyth...! Woodington...!" The tally was coming too slow for everyone aboard the Watch Dog, yet it continued. "Tucker!" "Styles!" Everyone capable of watching the shore and discerning the activity there, watched as all the men above the water suddenly went down to the sea in a rush. At this distance it was nearly impossible to tell what to make of it. It seemed from their vantage point that all the men had suddenly decided it was in their best interest to go swimming, but this notion was proved as ridiculous as it appeared, for they scrambled up again with young Godfrey on the end of a trailing line. Then three words drifted back, almost swallowed up by the noise of the sea. "Where's Mister Lasseter?" William did not look at Tempest. She did not look at the Captain. William simply reached over and covered her hand on the rail with his. He did not squeeze it in a reassuring manner, nor did he take it in his. He simply placed his hand over her's for a moment. It was a mortal gesture. Small. Human. But when he took away his hand and turned to towards the stem, he was anything but small. He went forward and without the aid of a speaking trumpet he sent his word down among the masses. "ALL MEN ON DECK TO THE WINDLASS! PREPARE TO STAND IN MISTER BADGER! BARGE CREW AMIDSHIPS!" They went, everyone to their duty. Not one wavered. William noted that even Nathan and Murin left the deck, too aware that they could offer nothing but added confusion had they stayed at the rail. It was they who discovered the second great occurrence of the day. While all of this commotion had played out on the weatherdecks and ashore, a smaller, but no less important tragedy had played out in the relative quiet of the surgery. Ana, the high borne and educated lady of some three languages and no small fortune...the elegant, but recently wilted flower...had crossed into the undiscovered country from whence no traveller may return.

I'm just shy of clinical addiction.

I have been well. Art and life keep me moving along.

Two is an abundance?

For the sake of accuracy, if I should add you and you cannot go or choose not to go, please let me know via PM or this thread and I will remove you from the list.

William watched her watching the water for a moment without saying a word. Compliments were strange animals and he had never known how to wrestle with them in conversation. He always felt a simultaneous hydra of emotions; of heads humble and arrogant. It was true that he possessed no small vanity. He always had. And even while she complimented him, some small part of himself nodded in agreement and it shamed him just a little to think what Mahdi might have thought of his pride then. He laid this thought aside, for while he understood enough about himself to recognize his own vanities, he was not an outspoken peacock to be sure. He never sought the stage of public life. In fact, he was genuinely flattered by the Doctor's words and humbled at her absolutisms of his character. It was an uncommonly nice gift to hear someone else recognize what he had unjustly endured some undeserved treatment in is life. He was unable to voice his appreciation to her just then, any more than he could have given his earlier unease any definition. Her compliments were such, that he would not have traded them for a land grant from the Pope at that moment. It is strange what moments we enjoy in a life of so many delights, appetites and comforts. We sometimes stand in a patch of sunlight and find it more favorable in its minute warmth than an entire summer of sunlit days. This was one of those moments. "Thank you." was all he managed after a protracted silence, and he saw that she understood how much he meant it. "Mais naturellement, mon ami." she returned. They watched the same patch of surf and shore for a time without saying much. Then they began to make occasional comments about those men ashore and eventually the conversation turned to the surgery and those living in it at present. She described each patient's injuries and rate of recovery with the clear and practiced tone of a doctor, confident in her diagnosis. They were captains of two helms then, one of sea and one of surgery.

Yeeees. I was wondering about this as well.

As a favor to Kidd Dread, I am posting his ensign.

It had taken her a number of questions to completely capture his attention, but now that she had it, he turned to her. He looked past her at the trio still gathered at the rail. "Mister Bly was out of line. He may be in your charge, Doctor, but I will not allow him to act the..." She was shaking here head, so he let the sentence die off. "Non, Capitaine. Il n'est pas celui." Nigel Brisbane was returning from the galley and William waved him off, so that the Quarterdeck might remain private. He fixed her with a look that said 'Continue'. "Is it more than the crew ashore? Is it something else, perhaps?" He smiled a little and regarded the deck a moment before raising his eyes again. He looked out to sea, first at Los Hermanos and then in the general direction of the Northeast, and finally, back to her. "To be completely honest, Doctor, I do not know. I am certainly concerned for my men out there." he said with a nod towards Los Hermanos. "The rest...well...perhaps it is nothing more than phantasms. Too much damp in these too weathered joints." She regarded him with a tilt of her head. It was an affectation he liked on her. The way she would repeat a question with silence, but for a look or a change of posture. Knowing she wouldn't except anything so vague, he continued. "Call it a feeling. The old and ofttimes reminder of a thousand close calls. By the pricking of my thumb and all that that implies." This produced a smile on her that he also appreciated. "I do not know what I am feeling. I am distracted by many things at once, but one I cannot name. If there is something out there...something on the wind, I am too removed from the source to say what it may be. It may be nothing. I...hope it is nothing." He smiled a moment, and the smile widened in the silence. "I am just vain enough to believe my life is still wrought with omens. The imaginations of a pauper elevated by this temporary promotion."

Aye, some very fine recipes indeed. Beef Stew with Newcastle Brown Ale and Dumplings Recipe Ingredients 2 pounds, 3 ounces shin of beef (or use flank or neck), chopped into chunks 3 tablespoons flour Olive oil 3 red onions, peeled, halved and roughly sliced 1-3/4 ounces pancetta or bacon, chopped 3 sticks of celery, chopped 1 small handful of rosemary, leaves picked from stem 5 cups Newcastle Brown ale or other dark ale 2 parsnips, peeled and roughly chopped 2 carrots, peeled and roughly chopped 4 potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped Sea salt and freshly ground pepper Dumplings: 1-3/4 cups self-rising flour 1/2 cup butter A good pinch of salt and pepper 2 sprigs of rosemary, chopped Instructions Season the beef, sprinkle with the flour and toss around until well coated. Heat up a frying pan until it is good and hot, add a little olive oil and fry the beef in 2 batches until nice and brown. Transfer the meat to a big casserole -- one that is suitable to go on a stovetop burner -- mixing in the flour that was left on the plate after coating it. Put the casserole on a medium heat, add the onions and pancetta, and cook until the onions are translucent and the pancetta has a bit of color. Add your celery and rosemary. Now you can pour in your ale and 1-1/4 cups of water, adding your parsnips, carrots and potatoes. (Feel free to add whatever veg you like at this stage.) Bring to the boil, put a lid on, turn down the heat and leave it to simmer while you make the dumplings -- which are choice. Blitz the dumpling ingredients in a blender or rub between your fingers till you have a breadcrumb consistency, then add just enough water to make a dough that isn't sticky. Divide it into ping-pong-ball-sized dumplings and put these into the stew, dunking them under. Put the lid back on and leave it to cook for 2 hours. Taste it, season it as you like, and then serve the stew with some greens and loads of bread to mop up the juices. Yield: 6 to 8 servings Credit goes to: Happy Days with the Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver (Hyperion)

These are primarily depictions of the late 1600s.

William watched the trio as they arrived on deck and wondered if the Doctor had asked the Marine to join her in her duties, with Chanault gone to shore, or if Mister Flint had volunteered. With his companion on the mend, and given his recent losses, William was prepared to give the man some leeway, though the scene that played out on the deck caused his jaw to set a little. As they walked to the rail, William made his way to the edge of the quarterdeck where he stood with his hands behind his back. "Mister Bly." He said in a tone that was patient, but not a little dark. "Any man able to make the decks on his own two feet is fit for duty. If that same man is unable to keep his feet due to foolery, with or without drink...he is fit for the cable tier. Do I make myself perfectly clear." Nathan sobered at once. "Aye, Captain." "Thank you, Mister Bly." He tipped his hat the smallest bit to Murin and he returned to his chosen place of watch. His eyes were ever bent towards Los Hermanos.

July 19, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Six bells of the Afternoon Watch William made his way to the quarterdeck, where he took up his own watch at the aft most bulwark rails. The Watch Dog was buffeted enough by the wind and outgoing tide that he was forced to keep a hand on the flagstaff at all times. The air was altogether clear of falling rain, though much of the clouds remained. The watches seemed much relieved by the end of the raging showers, and conversation was springing up along the deck crews. The wind was blowing at a fair pace, and had the Watch Dog not been anchored well offshore, the receding tide may have threatened her. They were forced to take in sail, but they went about this business with a quiet care. Though they were down by almost a full watch's company, with so many ashore, the duties aboard were tended to without much difficulty. Nigel asked permission to go to the galley, and asked if he might bring something back again for the Captain. William sent him along without requiring anything, content to stand there alone.

Here is a simple one for sale... http://www.herbalcantera.net/woodpipes.html

I've been in contact with Harry at the fort and he isn't too concerned about planning too far in advance. We both promised to keep each other appraised of changes as they arise.

Ahoy! All of those wishing to attend the Pirates in Paradise Festival, please come forward and make your mark. These names will be submitted to the organizers at the fort for their approval. Anyone wishing to stay at the fort encampments, please make yourselves known. There are two lists. The first list is a designation of those who are hoping to attend, but have not yet confirmed their attendance. The list further down the page is meant to reflect those who are attending for certain, and can show that they have or are making arrangements to camp in their own or someone else's tent. The lists will be updated as often as information is provided to me. The lists will show the date of the changes here at the beginning of the thread. I will also provide a list of encampment designations for those who have specific duties to perform, if and when those positions are approved by the powers that be. These lists are primarily for those camping in the fort and may not reflect attendees who are staying at motels or hotels outside Fort Zachary Taylor. You may PM me or list updates throughtout the thread below. LAST UPDATED November 18, 2006 This is the tentative list of attendees who may be staying at the fort encampments: Mercenary Smith (Miranda) - Tent to be determined Lady Barbossa - 6 x 7 bell back tent Black Jack Butler - This is the list of attendees who will be camping at the fort come Hell or high water: Please list your name (real name, camp name, or both) and the tent you will be staying in. Where possible, please list the dimensions of your tent or the name of the person who is providing tent space for you. Murin "Silkie" McDonough (MaryAnne Fleckenstein) Patrick Hand (Charles Patterson) - 7 x 8 Tarp/Lean-to. Bed roll and small personel effects. Matusalem - tent to be determined Capt. Jim Warren (Jim McGavic) - Sail (tarp) and oars for shelter, bedroll etc., ship's lantern. Capt. Rusty Wild Rice This is the list of attendees who may be staying outside the fort: The Pyrates of the Coast: Hurricane Diosa Gutz Grimy Sheila OryginalCinn Terry Krispy Additional equipment brought by members of the encampment or sent ahead to the fort for our use: From William Red Wake: Watch Dog Flag From Callenish: cooking equipment, pots and dutch ovens a dozen candle lanterns w/candles a camp shower system

It will be strange being called "Quartermaster" if Mister Lasseter is there, since I'm so used to calling him Quartermaster, but I understand the need for the title change. It looks like I'll be called Captain and Quartermaster in two different contexts, since a large chunk of the Watch Dog crew will be there. As my first order of duty am beginning an official list that will be updated regularly to show those who are confirmed to attend and those who are not. This list will also include provisions and tents for the festival.