William Brand

cheese...

um... ...more wine?

^Lives closer to the sea than me.

I seem to recall that a tennis cape was little more than a poncho, but for the life of me I cannot find the original reference. Edit: Unless the hat reference is paired because it applies to a topless, billed hatband. Germans refer to this as a tennis cape... So he may have owned a hat and a band with a kind of bill on it like a buccaneer hat. It might go a long way to explaining the pairing of the two items in the list. Sometimes we make the mistake of taking the words literally, such as cape meaning cape, instead of an earlier use for the same word. If anyone can show that this is indeed a reference to a German term or an older English term I would be greatly interested. I love word origins.

Ewwww...foot and mouth disease. Today's special is Curry Roux and Sauce

^survived being stranded at sea against all odds.

"Since you believe it won't trouble him, then I will gladly accept the additional charts. Perhaps I can return them to him one day with some additional notations. Of course, I shall keep the many hidden coffers I find along the way a secret to myself." Lamaire was watching the Ship's Steward as she assisted Mister Pew in the preparation of one of the three twelve pounders. They were arguing, albeit casually, over the most appropriate knot to secure the weighty gun. Crew members Dinwiddie, Thatcher, and Monahan were swinging out the boom to receive the newly appropriated prize. "The sea has become dangerous for too much coffer gathering, Capitaine." "Aye. But it was ever dangerous for me." "But one might think you are...courting trouble..." Lamaire said, gesturing to the new guns. “I am not afraid…" William returned, smiling one of his more devious smiles. "I was born to do this.”* Lamaire shook a wagging finger with a spreading grin. "Ahhhh. One should never quote martyrs when putting to sea, Capitaine. You will invite trouble." William looked out over the crew, all working in tandem to store the provisions for an uncertain future. Every one of them was worth their weight in proverbial gold. He might never see the like again all gathered together under one command. It made him feel strong. Dangerous. "I am trouble incarnate." *A quote by Joan of Arc

I'm still shaking my head. The depth of imagination among the masses is akin to a bird bath.

"I knew a man that would have labeled you a 'frolicker'." Lamaire gestured to himself with an added mock to his innocence that made William smile. He had always secretly delighted in the company of men schooled as rascals and gentlemen. Lamaire sometimes struck him as a play actor, flying from scene to scene, sometimes playing the fool and other times the brave defender. Whatever the man might truly be, William had liked him from the start. "And it is true...the hospitality of the Don notwithstanding, I am anxious to explore that new country gifted to me and mine. I..." The Watch Dog's aft bell pealed, cutting him short, and William was surprised to find themselves further into the day than he had expected. The First Dog Watch had come and with it the newly procured cannon. William raised his hat toward the Master Gunner, Master-at-Arms, and Steward, already arrived and already preparing cables to lift the new guns aboard. "We shall be putting to sea presently, and since the hospitality of this place has been outpaced by misfortune, I'll not miss this 'spit of land' as you called it." "But I think you shall miss the grandeur...perhaps?" Lamaire said with a searching smile. William returned the smile. "The ball was grand, but look you here..." he said motioning with the point of his cane toward a man laden down with several bird cages. "My cook has secured some of this islands water fowl and so I shall dine on duck yet again...and in the halls of my own island no less."

William gripped Armand's elbow and took him aside privately. "Sister." Armand said nothing for a moment, but since it wasn't a question he nodded and said, "Oui." William nodded, looking toward the Watch Dog a moment. "I had already guessed..."cousin", thinking you both too close not to be relations of some kind, but no matter. It would make no difference to me if she was your sister, twin, mother, cousin or comrade. Your devotion to her alone, blood or no, makes your relationship important and you have my assurance that I will let no harm come to her while I am able. As surgeon she is invaluable to the health and life of all those lives in my charge, but even if this were not the case, her friendship alone places her well being ahead of my own. Go with my best wishes for your safety. I'll not keep back a man who has earned his right to come and go a dozen times over." Armand's face was many things then, and sometimes comrades will step beyond the stations or ranks that separate them as William and Armand did now. They embraced for a moment as friends do when the outcome of events ahead are unknown to both. Afterward they clapped arms in a way that Romans would have understood. Further explanations were not exchanged and would have been unnecessary. "Merci, Capitaine. Merci." William smiled in return. This was the way to send away friends. Not borne down into the depths dressed in weathered hammocks, but sent off without words. Only hopes and understanding. "See that you draw your wages from the Quartermaster, ere you go, and take sufficient food from the larder for your expedition."

Aye, for what ails you or ales you...

I went through the drive through to make a deposit tonight. I pulled forward after getting my reciept and realized that I don't have my card, so I put my car in park and ran back. There was a guy standing there complaining his card wouldn't work. I took my card and went home. I just checked my account online. The bastard had quick hands. He did a quickcash request in the few seconds the card was out of my sight. Now it's in the bank's hands. Bloody Pyrate.

The sickness has mostly revealed itself as nausea. Imagine a stomach flu without the fever. It might actually prove to be food poisoning of some sort, but I am feeling better. I was sick enough today to be rude to a pub member and I feel bad about that. One should never bring bad moods in here. I forgot to check it at the door. I get KP for the night.

William looked past the Quartermaster to wear Armand stood in the near company of unfamiliar faces. He was not surprised to hear that Armand was leaving. He had expected it almost daily. It had always shown in the way he watched the horizon from the rail. He had a look at times that spoke of unrighted wrongs and unspoken calculations of what might have been. Armand was a man who balanced equations and often made the impossible possible. William nodded almost at once, even as these many thoughts passed through his mind. He didn't want to understand, but he did. After all, he was a man of many restless ghosts himself. "We're losing too many at once." he confided in Dorian. the Quartermaster simply nodded. "But we have gained one." William said, nodding in the direction of Mister Flint and noted with approval that the man had already shrugged off his dunnage to help a struggling crew member with a heavy cask. "Bill Flint. See that he gets a meal and two days rum. The man's been minus a meal in recent days." "Aye, Cap'n." William walked off to meet Armand and face his departure.

"Let us both go up. We can watch over the details from deck and shore." Mister Lasseter went out first as William remained to put the charts and ledgers away. He made a notation of their last anchorage, careful to make a note to change the sounding depth on his La Margarita charts. There was a minor discrepancy on them and he had ever been fastidious on the subject of depths since the Hammerhead had run aground off of North Africa. They had been three days aground then and the tide and time had wreaked havoc on the timbers. He was never going to make that mistake again unless tactics or prudence dictated otherwise. This done, he took his cane, baldric and hat and went out via the companionway that lead directly to the quarterdeck.

William and Dorian continued the review of the Watch Dog's supplies in the Ward Room for half an hour. William brought up many necessary items and was not surprised that the Quartermaster had not only thought of them as well, but had calculated the required amount and what he determined would be a fair bargaining price for the items ashore. William was glad to not spend too much time on these matters. He made only a few additional requests and one or two adjustments touching the supplies he wanted for La Blanquilla. During this time, Mister Pew returned with the Master Gunner and William sent them off with his Steward to fulfill the task of the added cannon. They went to the task with no small enthusiasm, and Mister Youngblood showed his first true smile since the accident and loss that was still fresh on their minds. When they were gone, William remarked on the companionable way in which Pew and Youngblood interacted. "I like to see a Master-at-Arms and a Master Gunner on good terms. On the Kingfisher they fought over grams of powder on the ledger every other day."

^Was born three years before me.

Well I'm not feeling well, so tonight's special is appropriate... Praise the chicken. Be the chicken.

With Mister Pew's departure, the Captain began dictating a long letter to the Don filled with praise and prose, thanking him for his generosity. He added the request for the cannons almost as a footnote. An afterthought. It was his way of completely understating the significance of such a request. Several times, Miss Smith looked up from her quill to give him a questioning look at his choice of words, but William was confident in his carefully crafted phrases, and Miss Smith's handwriting proved to be a confident and delicate script. Between William's words and her hand it presented a very official looking document. She even provided a significant space for him to affix the broad strokes of his signature. After it was folded and sealed with dark wax, he returned it to her. "The Don will not recognize either Youngblood or Pew. With Jack gone, I shall have to send someone familiar to that court ashore so I should like you, Miss Smith, to accompany them in this matter."

"Thank you, Mister Pew. We shall compare it against the records to see what has been sold, used or unrecorded since then, though I'll wager we've not lost so much as a button since Mister Lasseter took charge of the books. I've seen more mistakes in the Bible than his ledgers." Mister Lasseter tried not to laugh and only managed to choke a little, almost ruining his working clothes with coffee. "Mister Pew, I wonder if you would fetch Mister Youngblood to the Ward Room. I should like to send you and him ashore to procure additional cannon for the quarterdeck. No doubt I shall be required to send a formal request by letter, but I shall have that ready soon enough."

"Before we leave port and the influence of the Don's good graces, I should like to procure three new twelve pounders for the quarterdeck. this will allow us four twelves with a nine pounder on either side. We can take the two remaining nines forward to the forecastle for use as bowchasers. I know there is not much room for guns at the stem, but I trust our carpenter and blacksmith to work their crafts to our advantage there. We may not have another opportunity so soon to acquire additional fire power." "Aye, Cap'n. Though I'd prefer English guns." "As would I."

"I expect charts from the Don's estate any time now, though I shall do all my own soundings and charts when we arrive. I want them to be as accurate as possible. I will not lose the Watch dog or any other boat to an exaggeration or error on the part of less interested cartographers."

"No. I am making an accounting of our overall needs for La Blanquilla. I would like to build a cistern there, if ever we should be forced to remain on the island for long repairs to the Watch Dog. I never want to be short of fresh water if it can be helped. Also, I should like to bring livestock and perhaps fruit trees to that place. With luck, and a considerable amount of work, I think we should be relatively self sufficient in the near future." William paused to refresh his coffee. "One never knows who one's enemies and friends might be from season to season."

"Aye, Dorian. Come in." he motioned to the table spread with scones, ledgers, coffee, charts and marmalade. "Have you eaten? Miss Smith is laying siege to the Ward Room and I am likely to be strung up if I don't eat all that you see before me. Not that I mind the fare. Mister Gage is proving an apt man about the galley."

Camping in the Fort is better. Much, much, much better.