William Brand

I am very excited to see your work realized. Best of luck with the first castings.

Welcome aboard, Mate. You look a little lean. Try the Silkie's Hide subforum. Good food.

Hello my fellow friends and writers. This is just an update to let you all know that I'm doing a little housecleaning on the project. As several of the writers have moved on to other things, decided not to continue on the project or simply faded away from the Pub over time, I'm going to be trimming the fat a little by writing their characters carefully out of the story. Don't worry if you haven't written in a few short weeks or months. I'm only removing a few who haven't been around in ages. However, if you would like to 'move on' we can discuss your departure from the story at large.

Robert Elmer and Gabriel Edward stood at the capstan, shoulder to shoulder in a rain that neither of them seemed to mind. This was the first real storm of any size that the two had know since their lives aboard the Carolina. Gabriel was in the midst of regaling Roger with one if his many 'Tales of Caslte Combe' when another good wave crested the bow of the frigate. He had been right in the middle of the phrase 'drowned a priest' when they were both pressed back by the white-capped wall. The men recovered well enough and even laughed, too content to be at sea again to care much about waves or rain. Henry Jones was also there, listening to Gabriel's stories and yet not listening. He was posted at the larboard rail to watch the progress of the storm as a lookout, though what he might report in such darkness he couldn't say. Anything he might sight would change the progress of the 'Dog very little, for if any ship should come upon them now, then he would but mark it. Enemies seldom if ever tangled with one another in bad weather, their cannon being too much a danger to themselves in such seas. Still, he watched. In the galley the cook's mate was trying to make what use of herself as she could, content at that moment to watch John Stares as he explained the finer points of rendering a good keech. "Tis a good life, i' tis. A chandler c'n put up co'n in winter when all else are hungry." "But you smell of fat..." James Standiford observed from where he sat scrubbing pots in the corner. "Aye." John agreed. "The smell tis but a shingle o'er your head. Brings business. Brings co'n." He reached out with one trunk of an arm and ruffled the lad's hair. Then, leaving his hand firmly clamped upon the crown of Jame's head he pointed his finger at the lad's chest. "Fat for cooking. Fat for candles. Fat for life." James smiled, of course, but contented himself with ideas much larger than tallow and pots. These were but a few of the little interchanges had about the ship as men worked through the night, some maintaining and some standing ready to maintain.

A hearty happy birthday!

It would be a shame to fill the water if and when the reenactments there begin to utilize ships once again, but I could take both sides of this argument. Mostly, I would rather they placed the things elsewhere if possible. There's a Pizza Hut just across the street from the Sphinx.

Welcome aboard.

Welcome aboard. Love a good fiddle.

Welcome aboard!

It appears to be something more random than not. I was able to log in from either computer today, but for the record I'm on a 1.5 GHx PowerPC Mac G4.

"There, sah." Mister Badger pointed, handing William the glass. They had been searching for the Navarra for almost ten full minutes, and had finally sighted her, if only briefly. They could only guess at her condition, being so far away as she was and appearing as but a shape against an almost equal darkness. Mister Greene came up then, and by the look of him he had news. "Mister Greene. What report?" "Little if no water from above, other than what's expected, but she's taking on water aft." "Is it threatening?" "No, Sah. Not...threatening...but..." "Yes, Mister Greene?" "I believe we have some reminder of that battle which proceeded me, Sah. That strike upon the Quartergalley." "Ahh." William returned, nodding. "The Elephant come back to haunt us." "Aye, Sah. The hit has weakened a filling transom or two against the cant frames. Not so much that she takes in any sea to o'erwhelm us, and the powder stores are fine above the leak, but..." William smiled, for he understood the man's frustration then, for it was personal and professional both. "And how are your quarters, Mister Green?" "Wet, Sah. Wet through."

It doesn't seem to be the make or model of the computer. Tracy could not get on using her PC here or at work today, but we both chatted yesterday. Some sort of random gremlin.

Welcome aboard the Pub.

It only takes one moment of carelessness. I'm guilty myself of enough foolish acts from my childhood on up to count my blessings. I'm sorry to hear that one man was killed and so many others were hurt.

Life below the frigate's decks continued as it might rain or shine, though any of the Watch Dog's leaks were now self evident before the mast. Even some men not on duty were obliged to cover themselves with their oilskins, so that so many men swinging side by side and weighed down by heavy weather clothing took on the appearance of bails strung up. Mister Badger went through the berth in near darkness, with only the greasiest of lanterns to guide him. He checked all of the compartments forward; fore-lastage, fo'c'sle, and every space which made up the cable tier and berth. Every place was tied up tight and every article stowed, so that he smiled a little despite the weather. He nodded and turned on his heel, making his way aft again. He went as far back as the powder magazine where he found two marines checking the stores for any moisture. Finding them hard at their work, and wishing not to intrude on business under the purview of another, he went up again. The rain had not abated. Instead it was coming hard on and with a wind less favorable to their course. It bit into what little canvas furled and unfurled as they tacked against the building storm. William was shouting something from the quarter as Jacob came up to the main and then aft up to the holy ground. "All's secure below, Cap'n." Badger announced and William nodded from where he stood to one side of the binnacle. Though not at the wheel himself, the Captain was adding his weight as an anchor to it, for the frigate was arguing her course, and two or more men were obliged to be at the wheel at all times. "This weather could turn." William said without taking his eyes from the compass. Anyone not used to life in the open sea might have laughed and thought the weather bad enough already, but Badger just nodded. "See that you eat and drink when time permits. We'll not be so lucky to dine at the table." William continued, and it was an order as much as a suggestion. The same which he had given to others. The Watch Dog rolled hard over to Larboard then as a wave tried to convince the frigate to some other course. All of the men on deck leaned to one side in tandem but opposite to the ship until the helmsmen brought her back to her place. The men worked, the rain fell, and the night moved on. ... Aboard the Lucy, the carpenters were still employed below, as were some sailors. Mister Wenge was convinced without much evidence, that the Lucy had taken too many hard hits not to be wounded more. While not taking on much water for a storm, there was water still and he feared the long slow bleed of a wound not openly apparant. During their last engagement he had felt a sickening shudder forward, and had found two strikes abaft the cheek and forward of the skid beam. "I c'n find no damage in the breasthooks or the futtocks for'ard, sah!" Alder was running his hand along a timber and seemed not to hear. "Sah, the..." "Thank you, Mister Black." Alder cut in quietly. "Take Millet forward with a candle and check the strakes. Then see yourself to the apron again." "Aye, Sah." John clamped his hand on Millet's shoulder and they went forward to examine these timbers once again. One sailor observed, and not for the first time, that the ship seemed sound enough by his reckoning. Alder narrowed his eyes a little and thanked the man for his understanding of all things in the matters of carpentry, being apprised of so little of that himself. The sarcasm sobered the fellow and Alder recognized his own temper shortening. "Nevermind, lad. It's the lives aboard, not the timbers. Remember that." The sailor nodded and all went back to work in search of the wound Alder felt but couldn't find. ... Aboard the Navarra, life also continued, if life it could be called. The bosun was not the man that Badger had become, and was not the careful practitioner that Alder sought always to be. The Spanish bosun was rather a casual and careless man who viewed his position as comfortable and secured, so he kept the ship less so. Here was a man hand chosen to take orders without question, even when endangering the ship and the lives aboard her. Here was a tyrant's perfect man, but a fool to anyone else worth their salt. He was not a bad man in any true sense, he was simply too little of anything to be weighed against a very able seaman. He stood, not in the rain with his fellows, but behind a casement aft. It was dry here, and he remained there while more able men than he came and went with reports. The reports had slowed over the course of many hours, not because the storm had lessened, but because the sailors felt more obliged to keep the Navarra afloat by their own ministrations than by any advice of the casual bosun. Even Durand, a man not of this element, had taken up a line or two when he saw the need, so that he was wet through by his assistance to those strangers he traveled with. As for the Captain of the merchantman. He slept...well brined in the gravy of his table and the wine of his stores. He had ever been thus in times of requirement.

Just a heads up. I've been using chat through the PC, but when I tried clicking on chat using the Mac today I got this error... [#CJOIN-5] The room id supplied is invalid. Please notify an administrator.

A right, good song.

Lost my train of thought...

I like the Merry Widow's ensign.

Spoken like a true, nonconforming pirate. This is why I unlocked this thread. People have the right to comply, defy or testify.

I find that I look at 'Location' more often than any other information listed in people's profiles. I like to know where people are from, especially as I am far from most of the pirates here. It helps one pirate to find another. I also highly recommend the chat option for meeting people and asking questions.

Thank you, Hugh. I don't often get choked up about our founding fathers. That one went straight home.

Happy Birthday, United States of America!