William Brand

The Marshall of Massacre Island. A movie title in the making. The Count of Massacre Island. Crew of the Count. Massacre Island Marauders...

I don't know. If the previous crew is completely disbanded, I really couldn't see the harm. Especially if they don't mind. You might be followed by the previous crew's reputation and interactions. Good or bad. You've done what I would recommend already, and that's to try and get in touch with them. If you're unsure, I would still recommend that you name yourself 'The (insert name here) Crew of Massacre Island'.

I've not heard the name before, but you might start from a different direction and name your crew for a ship of the island's history (assuming that you don't already have one). There are a great many recorded ship names from Dauphin Island's early period. La Renommee (Fame) Le Comte de Toulouse (The Count of Toulouse) Le Marechal de Villars (The Marshall of Villars) Phillipe Peacock Hercules Union Pelican Dauphine Vigilant Neptune Henry

Now I really wish I could make it. Drat.

You can get the zip ties in just about any color that you want, so if you prefer a black, brown or red, you can buy a color that won't stand out at as much and satisfy the most safety conscious organizer. It's also a good idea to acquaint yourself with the safety officers at all events, whether they 'peace tie' or not. It keeps everything friendly and you create a dialogue that's just as important for safety.

Just temper your wants with really practical alternatives. As a sailor, you could carry a big stick in place of a cutlass. If you look at many a drawing and painting of sailors ashore, you will often see them carrying a snapsack or ditty bag on a good stick, and sticks are good for weapons ashore. Since you're buying walking shoes, get yourself a good piece of hickory until you can afford a sailor's knife or a pistol.

If you end up anywhere near the Isle of Dogs in the Thames, get a picture. The Nubian Trader was built there. She later became the Watch Dog.

Aboard the Watch Dog. The Collision. The Navarra turned, but too late. Whatever noise had drifted to her helmsman from the Whole Company, wasn't enough to change the events of the moment. William flinched as the bulk of the Navarra passed the quarter galley, fully expecting her to strike upon it and carry it away. In truth, she missed the aft parts of the 'Dog altogether, and cleared the casement and windows three full feet wide of them. After that, she struck everything within reach of her spars. Had she but come upon them with no alteration in her course, her spars might have passed high enough to sweep by without catching upon the rigging of the frigate, for the Watch Dog sat low in the water from those stores brought over from the Lucy, and the Merchantman was taller than she was. But turning at the last, the Navarra leaned hard over and the spars of her fore and main tore out the after backstays and starboard shrouds of the frigate's main. The Spanish hull collided with the side of the frigate simultaneously and destroyed enough of the main chainwale that it set the turnbuckles loose. The mainmast shuddered from the hood head all the way down through the mast partners to the very base of the mast step. It was a sensation and sound so sickening to feel and hear that men actually groaned aloud as their faces shot up at it, so that the sound added to the deep thrum of it all. Adding to this the spritsail yard of the Navarra had caught the slack of the main brace and plucked the brace block away, so that it rebounded aft and outward with the line and tangled in the Navarra's rigging as she passed. Half of the Starboard stairway disappeared along with part of the bulwark rail amidships even as the main brace went taught for a second time and tore it's supporting pins free of the Quarter galley roof. It carried these bits of freed iron through the lower shrouds of the Mizzen, which would have been unscathed otherwise. The backstay of the mizzen parted enough that the blocks at its base passed over William's head near enough for him to duck, but not so near to really threaten him. The chainwale held aft but the mizzen gaff seesawed so violently that the mizzen stay went slack and then taught again quickly enough to crack like a whip. By this time the Navarra had almost completed her pass, but she did not leave without taking the main stay, the backstay of the fore, the fore lower shrouds, the fore brace and some sail off the main. Wood and line were sent in too many directions, so that there was no place of safety. Some two dozen men were hit by parting line, blocks and too many smaller cogs of the frigate's machinations to name. Even the bells for and aft rang hard once as the 'Dog first leaned to Starboard, and when freed, hard over to Larboard, so that four bells sounded in succession. Ciaran had been in the very act of going aloft, and would have seen the Navarra had he been there, but he was climbing up to relieve the lookout of the main top. 'Eagle Eyes' Ciaran had never failed to site a ship first or second in all his time aboard, but for this changing of the guard in heavy rain. He was at the maintop when the Navarra struck and the mast mimed the pendulum. He grabbed John McGinty as the frigate was struck amidships. John surely would have fallen to the decks below, had Ciaran not caught him by his shirt sleeves as he toppled backwards. When the Navarra let go of the frigate the main went wide with a difference of some 20 feet. Ciaran, too mindful of his friend to guard his own purchase, could not get his own hands secured as this happened. He did not fall, so much as he was hurled from the heights, so that men staring up from below saw him launched from the main into the gloom and the unknown. John had just caught the end of Ciaran's fingertips before he disappeared. So shocked was he to see Ciaran carried away that he almost failed to right himself as the frigate leaned back again to Starboard. On deck, 'Straight Shot' broke free of securing lines forward at the rail and fell over upon the deck. The 18 pounder might have gone clean through the deck had her weight not stuck well upon beams below the planking. 'Bloody Thunder' also slipped it's moorings and rolled into a the beckets and bollards at the foremast, where it lodged enough that no man was harmed, though Andrew Light would spin tales after about the canon that nearly dragged him down. No other cannon came loose, but the weight of water in the scuttlebutt shattered it below decks as it was hurled sideways from it's place, and the quickly stowed cargo faired poorly in places, so that goods were lost. Lazarus Gage had stumbled twice in the act of saving crockery and was just reaching for a knife he had thought stowed when he sent it falling to the floor. It landed between his bare feet with a defining 'THOCK' and quivered there. Lazarus sat down slowly and whistled through his teeth. "Hello feet." Jacob Badger had saved or shoved more than a few men in those moments. It was his way and his work as he pushed or pulled a man from harm's way. Lines heavy enough to hurt a man and blocks large enough to kill men outright fell down among the throng. Badger saved at least three men in quick succession just before the last of the lower shrouds came free of the main top. John McGinty saved himself by hugging the topmast as the top cantered to one side. The freed main yard swung far enough around the mast to chip the mizzen topmast and it torqued the bracket in its place, so that it slipped a pin or two, letting loose the abused shrouds. They fell upon Jacob Badger, David Henry and Paul de Lannel like so much net upon fish and carried them over the side as the Watch Dog overcorrected in a trough of the sea. David called out and hooked James Booker's ear hard enough to leave a gash in it as he was carried over in mid cry. Paul was dumbfounded by the weight of the rigging, for it had struck him straight down upon his head and addled him completely. Jacob managed to give an order of all things. He shouted, "Stand clear!", just before he passed over the side above the stairway. His hand would have caught the bulwark rail as he went over, but it had been removed there by the Navarra. Ajayi caught the last of the retreating line, but too late to bear up three men as they hit the water. The great Yoruban allowed himself to be carried sideways into the bulwarks as knot in a block, if only to keep hold of the line. His shoulder, elbow and wrist had words to say on this account, but they never let go. No other sailor aboard was hurt so much that they couldn't rush to help another or stand clear for others more nimble than themselves, and for so much to have happened in so little time, the watch Dog was mostly unharmed. Much of what had happened as the Navarra passed was absorbed in hemp, be it line or sailcloth. Had the frigate and merchantman exchanged rigging alone, the two of them should have been relieved ever after, but the Navarra had both shoved the smaller boat aside and grabbed hold of her rigging at the same time, so that the integrity of the 'Dog's framing had been tested stem to stern. Weathering and rot going all the way back to the frigate's time as the Nubian Trader now revealed themselves here and there in degrees, and the trouble astern worsened in a moment, so that water would have come in there if not for the ministrations of carpenters earlier that day. All other damages to the frigate were summed up in paint, trim, decorations, and lives. William had witnessed everything from the horrible high ground. It was like a box seat at the theater. Every parting line, falling block and scattering sailor had been laid out before him. He had actually put up his hand as Ciaran went soaring into the dark. He had rushed forward to grab lines that were far too far from him to have been reached. He had even seen the forestay of the main come crashing down within inches of his Steward as she made her way aft. The line came down with enough force to lay out two other men and turn Tribbiani around on her heals. Last of all, William had watched as the Navarra passed between the frigate and the longboat like the moon. A bloody, eclipsing, Spanish moon.

I've know women to portray disguised sailors, slaves, seamstresses, passengers, mistresses to Captain, wives of sailors, laborers, servants (indentured or otherwise), military camp women, washer women, ladies in waiting, wealthy women of position, business owners, inn keepers, cooks, missionaries, nuns, and even whores over the years that I've been attending events.

Did I say trip? I meant discover through hours of reading what other could not discover.

The sailor's knife. I'm so very pro-knife.

It never gets tiresome. We want the newcomers to take the time to become entrenched in the hobby, and through sharing and their own research, they sometimes discover what has eluded us. Just one example. If Mission was not so well read and had not become so involved, we should have a lot less material here. He reads so much that he trips over new information all of the time, often touching on such a wide range of topics never before discovered or overlooked. There was a time when he was just the new guy asking a few questions and then he jumped in with a vengeance. Jas Hook, Peglegstick, Mission, Dutchman and I all started out as novices. Now we need professional help and a wealthy benefactor.

This is not an effort to tout the Mercury, but since the topic of getting started was thoroughly discussed there, I offer this link. Some very good links were added throughout the thread for shoes, slops, shirts, etc.

If you don't mind reading subtitles, the Zatoichi series has 26 films and 100 television episodes. Classic anti-hero/samurai.

The Watch Dog was a cork on the water, though Jacob shouted orders anyway as he ran. How he kept his feet from one deck to the next was anyone's guess, but adrenaline carried him all the way amidships even as William shouted orders across the open air and water. Nothing could be done for the 'Dog that would move her from harms way if harm came, but it didn't stop people from moving. Even amidst the panic there was purpose in everything that happened. Jim had continued forward in his course and would have halted, but the calls of a ship bearing down upon them made the prisoner issue all the more important. Even before he arrived forward many of the prisoners were standing to see what the commotion was about despite the handful of sailors set to guard them. Jim ordered them back down and when they did not all respond in kind to his shouting, he punched the first man he reached. "Down! Every one of you down!" he shouted even as the man toppled over like a tree felled among other trees. The prisoners did not dispute the look he gave them. One very small report sounded from the Lucy. Everyone on the 'Dog noted it, but there was no sign that anyone aboard the Navarra had heard it for what it was; just a whispered warning to deaf ears. The dauntless merchantmen had almost reached them by then. She was moments away from striking the frigate in passing. Time was moving faster now, catching up with those who head kept their heads and gathering up those who had only just realized the threat. Fate may not be kind, but she had at least shown some amendment in her unkindness, for the Navarra was directly aimed at the frigate on approach. Still, as she came on, William flinched, for it seemed as though the quarter galley might run afoul of the Merchantmen. It occurred to William that the ship was not a month mended on that same side, and it shamed him to think about that while men's lives lay so nakedly vulnerable in the longboat, but his thoughts were thus just the same. He was thinking so fast and so much of what he thought was useless, helpless stuff. Only a handful of seconds had passed. The Navarra had not altered her course by so much as a point.

It's a community effort. Keep asking questions.

Go team Mercury!

This is the moment of departure for some crew members who have been a part of this since the beginning, but have chosen to move on to other stories, or who have disappeared to other shores and other hobbies. Thanks for everything that you brought to the project.

You can't 'go' until I've used you for another 20+ battles, to say nothing of the labor to be done about ship. Now see yourself to the surgeon for some laudanum and take care of yourself.

Aboard the Watch Dog The watches, crews and weather were all a blur together. William had stopped noting the bells long ago and he was weary just for standing. Badger was suddenly at his elbow. "She's no better for bein' lighter!" he shouted as a sudden gust swept the quarterdeck. It was an observation, not pessimism, so when a sailor at the helm added. "Not two months our shadow and now this." Badger growled back, "No talk of shadow's and finality, there." "Sorry, sah. No…" he began , but his companion elbowed him and the man stowed his thoughts. William ignored this interchange. There was something too present and too driving about the hard rain that made it impossible to care about omens or misgivings. The rain was real, and it was coming on so fast and so exponentially in it's fervor, that his attention was absolutely fixed on the Lucy and the 'Dog as atolls in a deepening sea. "All prisoners to be held forward with no less than eight men to guard them." William said so quietly that the order was almost not heard. It was spoken like an afterthought or a point almost forgotten, but it was a sign that the little things were remembered along with the great. They were now carrying more prisoners in one place than William liked, but they also bore all of those armed men of the Lucy, so that their compliment of Marines was weighty. "Aye, sah." Jim returned and went down to see it done personally. William turned his head then, but not toward Jim as he went. Instead, he turned his head aft as did the Bosun. It was the unconscious act of two men who listen to wind and water. William did it without even thinking about it. Indeed, he was peering into the grey driving rain almost half a minute before he wondered why his attention had been drawn toward the seemingly nothing. He also noted that Jacob was moving aft and up to the sheltering roof of the Ward Room which served as a poop deck. "What…" was all that William managed and would have inquired further, if his ears had not heard that subtle sound which had hooked his attention, but more clearly now. It was a sharp report of rope and rigging, the slap of wet canvas and the plowing of a bow against an uneven sea. William's mouth went so dry at once, that he would have laughed to think it so in this weather, but for the reason of the moment. His head whipped back and forth in one quick survey of the open sea between the frigate, the faltering cutter and one long, lonely smallboat in the dangerous abyss between them. He couldn't find his mouth then, dry or not. He couldn't find any order that would prevent what was to come. He couldn't think of anything but for the pale blur of faces in the open sea between the two ships, all of them turned toward that doom which bore down upon them. He knew all of their names. He hadn't thought he had noticed who had gone over into the longboat for another ferrying, but he did. He knew every threatened man. Time slowed so much then that it ran aground. Every second divided into it's own drawn out breath. Even gravity seemed to drive the rain less. So employed had they been in the emptying of the cutter, and so distracted by the sea which came in at the damaged parts of the Watch Dog and Lucy, that they had all but forgotten about the Navarra. She was a thing removed and forgotten. Until now. She came on so suddenly, and bearing so much sail for the weather, that she appeared too large in the moment. She was no bigger than the last time they had seen her of course, but coming on as she did she seemed huge. One moment she was nothing but a blur in a greater blur. She was shadow in the gloom, with no more weight than the rain. Now she loomed, far too real and threatening. She came on like a tidal wave of wood and cargo, and her course was anything but favorable, for while she bore not upon the Lucy, her course would take her too near the 'Dog and upon the longboat. Despite the terrifying slowing of time, William realized a few too many things. First, the Navarra presented more canvas than reason or even common sense would have dictated. Even if the wind should have carried all her sail away in that moment, the heavy laden merchantmen bore on with enough speed, that momentum alone would have carried her past all the rest of them. Second, her course would no doubt overwhelm the sailors on the water and would likely see the 'Dog as badly off as the Lucy. Third, he hadn't seen the tall Captain of the Lucy above decks. Fourth, he had just enough time to promise himself that if any of them survived, he would throttle every Spanish officer, beginning with their Bosun. "Every sail unfurled." He marveled in his mind. The Watch Dog was carrying none. Badger was shouting then, or rather screaming. William had almost not noticed it, but that Jacob's voice was suddenly so shrill. William had never heard the Bosun's voice go so high, and the octave awakened his own voice like a slap to the face. Then they were shouting over one another, along with every other sailor of office or none. Protocol be damned.

A pirate and a lawyer. Redundant, dangerous, and (sniff) beautiful.

The Lucy was all but emptied of cargo, possessions and men, but she was still crewed enough and supplied enough that the longboats continued to ferry between them. William returned to his place on the quarterdeck, for there was no need of him as a laborer now. He examined himself for one mean bruise that was forming on his left forearm, but he was more troubled to be wet down the front of his clothes despite his oilskins, for water trapped in the makeshift awning midships had overspilled and baptized him and some eight other men. To counterpoint his discomfort, the sky began a slow, but steady drizzle. Jim was at his elbow then, his hand sheltering a cup of something warm. "At least the sun's not far off." "But not so near the Earth." William mumbled as he rung out the front of his shirt and judged the Lucy with the eye of one who has run ships aground to save them. "There's a fair mist this far out to sea." Jim observed. "Aye." William noted, and wondered if they had drifted further South and abreast of the mainland and Spanish coasts. Coasts that might be needed for the saving of the Lucy, if it came to it. "Have any man with a skill for wood, be it whittling or workmanship, brought over to the Lucy." "Aye, sah."

Auro Ambrose is a good, solid, unique name.

You can most certainly be the 'Nefarious Asssociate'.

Aye. The Mercury is always signing on new blood. Does that sound unsettling or strange?