William Brand

"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.

PM me or come by chat and we'll discuss bringing you aboard. As for the flag...well...imagine Jack Rackam passing another ship flying his flag. lol. What you really need is a flag of your own. Luckily, I'm an artist. We can discuss a one of kind flag for you as well.

There you go, Mate. The Watch Dog is hiring if you are looking a for a more virtual berth. And I see that my flag is still making the rounds. I wonder how many people are flying it nowdays.

They're probably still recovering.

I loved them because I understood them too well.

I had four pieces of Key Lime Pie while attending PIP. It's made of limes and concentrated evil.

Mad Matt is "Mad" in a good way. That is to say...he isn't mad...he's "Mad", which is to say he isn't angry. I'll stop now.

Aye...I know exactly what you mean.

^ Makes Alice in wonderland look way to sexy.

^ likes swivel guns. He once named one "Yer Maker".

But of course, good sir.

Is this the 5th Annual Privateer Feast to Save the Boobies? If so, it's on February 25th at the Cherry Hill Conference Center at 6:30 PM. Tickets are sold out! You have to get on their waiting list to attend. http://www.privateerfeast.com/tickets.asp

Honey glazed carrots... Artichoke hearts prepared in a sweet cream with a touch of butter... ...and our finest cabernet sauvignon...Chateau Montelena And I shall play my oud while you eat, jeune dame.

Even better... Seabass.

Today's special is... ...oh hell with it. MORE BACON!

William did not dress down much more than removing his coat and baldric. He set them aside, careful to fold the coat over the back of the chair in his room before stepping into the wider space of the Ward Room. Here he placed the logbooks and ledgers of the Watch Dog and began perusing them in preparation for their resupply. He scribbled a dozen or so equations based on the charts of the region, calculating what supplies he might need most for an equal number of forays into the open sea. However, the first new notation he made in the ledger itself reflected the coin gathered from the sale of arms before the mast. Then, a quiet knock came at the door followed by an immediate entrance. Miss Smith, exercising her prerogative as Ship's Steward, entered with a laden tray and William's appetite was awakened at once by marmalade, scones and hot coffee. "Ah, Miss Smith. I had all but forgotten..." "...to eat?" she finished. "Yes I know, Captain." She gave him a reproachful look mingled with a smile. He raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth turned up. "I am rebuked." William said in a mock surprise. "Nay." she returned, laying out the food over the ledgers, mindful to cover them completely with the tray. "It would be mutinous to rebuke one's Captain." She took the quill from his hand and replaced it with a fork. He smiled a little at this no nonsense approach to make him eat. He often waved the tray aside until he was finished with his work, but she was having none of that now. She tucked a napkin in his collar and stepped back with an expression that said, 'Well? Do you plan to simply watch the food?'. He took a healthy bite and nodded appreciatively and this seemed to satisfy her. "Will there be anything else, Captain?" "Aye. Please ask the cook to prepare some pork or beef to add to this fine fare if you please and ask Mister Lasseter to join me here." "Aye, Captain." She was almost out the door when he added, "Thank you, Tudor."

"The production features bare flesh and filthy language." It just had to be repeated here. Arrr.

I'm feeling decadent.

"Thank you, Mister Warren. Please see to some sustenance for yourself as well. Then we shall review those best able to assist in the loading and provisioning ashore. With this unexpected interruption and loss, our watches are all confused." "Aye, Cap'n." "I shall be in the Ward Room. Visit me there when you are prepared and we shall review the lists and necessities of the ship."

As the Quartermaster continued the auction William went to stand near Mister Warren at the wheelhouse. Jim stood there with his usual smile, which had a way of turning up his moustache and William found it difficult to imagine him angry. The man was always pleasant and he wondered, not for the first time, if this good humor was balanced by an equally bad temper best left unawakened. Mister Warren gave him a nod. "Mister Warren. We'll be sailing to La Blanquilla soon and I mean to make a thorough survey of the water there. I shall rely heavy upon your skills as a coxswain then while we make an examination of that island' s reefs and channels." "Aye, Captain." he said with his customary smile. "With any luck, we shall make a permanent sanctuary there from which to foray from." "A...kennel." William smiled at this. "Aye, Mister Warren. A pied-à-terre. A den." "Of wolves or thieves, Captain?" "Yes."

I would like to second the nomination for Redd Oktober.

mmm...