Mission

Wow, I never even got back here yesterday to post. I hope I can remember half of what happened. Being the first official day of the event, I went over to set up my surgical display late morning. Mae and Brig were there when I arrived. I was thrilled to see my fellow twins. They and Jack had driven all night from what I could tell and arrived that morning. I offered my condo to the three of them to grab naps in a shade-darkened room, but they claimed to be able to sleep during the middle of the day in the middle of the event. (I can't even fathom this.) Jack doesn't actually need sleep as anyone who has seen his gear and setup will immediately recognize. IN fact, hs spent the morning hand-stitching a rather interesting dark brown fly for their tent. I set about the business of creating the surgeon's display. I had been hoping it would be like last year and the Mercury crew would already have everything set up, but it was not to be so. They did have two tents set up: one for Michael and one for Beowulf, but that was about the extent of it. I probably should have gone over Wednesday or Thursday and helped set things up, but that sounded like work. So Beowulf and I went about the business of getting a fly up to cover the surgical stuff. (It rusts if water even comes near it, so I wanted to be prepared in case it rained. Plus it's nice to be able to work in the shade.) Now you would think that an operation as simple as putting up the two poles required for the fly that is permanently attached to a standing tent would be pretty simple for two guys. You would be wrong. Apparently, when it comes to ropes and tents and such, we both turned out to be mechanically disinclined. (He has an excuse - he works in psychiatry and never really was all that interested in mechanical stuff. I, on the other hand, am a mechanical engineer and a former Boy Scout.) Add to this the fact that we had no ropes and only three bent stakes to work with and the whole think looked a bit bleak for the surgeon's canvas fly. Fortunately, our neighbor is a charter boat captain here in Key West by the name of Captain R. Hood who was doing a rope demonstration featuring the creation of something that has been marvelously named "baggywinkles." Captain Hood had some rope, so he came over and took over Beowulf and I's failing operation. It turns out he can tie knots from memory - and even tie the right knots from memory, which he proceeded to do once he drove the stakes into the ground. Of course, we had three poles to be installed along the front of the fly and only three stakes, so we only managed to get one pole up. (I would like to note here that tent stakes and coral do not go together at all. Poor Captain Hood wounded his hand with the hammer while Beowulf and I looked on sympathetically.) Captain Hood also started running out of rope, which wouldn't do wince he needed to make baggywinkles during the weekend. (Baggywinkles. Say it out loud; it's fun!) So Beowulf and I wandered off in search of more stakes and rope. (Actually, it's called 'line' in the fort, as several people explained to us when we went off begging for rope.) I believe I've said it before, but I'll say it again: pirate re-enactors are some of the most generous people around. Within short order, we had rope and serious steel tent stakes thanks to Deadeye and Sherry Walp of the Hudson Bay Trading company. Voila! The fly was erected. (Huzzah.) The next feat was to get the 73 pounds of surgical equipment from Keith and Lily's car over to our tent. Now that the event was open, vehicles were not permitted in the park, so that meant carrying that monster box of mine. It was nice handles and everything, but 73 pounds gets heavier and heavier with every step. Lily offered to drive the gator over for me, but was then immediately pulled away to deal with some more pressing issue. So I asked Scarlett Jai and she suggested I drive the gator. Well! You don't have to tell me twice! The twins offered to help me, which was completely absurd given that the box almost weighs more than either of them. So I naturally accepted their assistance. We all climbed in the gator. They wanted to sit in back. This is probably illegal on Officious Florida Park Property and it was also sort of absurd, so we naturally did that. After seeing what kind of gator driver I was, they opted to sit together on the front seat on the way back. Having accomplished all this, I set up my stuff and started doing the surgeon gig. We got quite a bit of traffic for a Friday and I was kept pleasantly busy until the battle started. Jai and Lily had threatened several times to have me do a surgery immediately following the battle, so I decided to hang around in the fort and watch the battle from the fort wall rather than go out on the field. I can just as useless on the fort wall as I can on the battlefield, after all. Of course the battle didn't start on time - this is Key West - so Mae, Brig and I contented ourselves with wandering around the fort wall. There was s large iguana on the wall, which Mae proceeded to started feeding grapes. She was tossing the grapes at the iguana, which I teased her about, thinking she was afraid of it. Brig told me she actually used to work somewhere where she was charged with the care and feeding of reptiles and snake, which brings us to the whole Mae snake thing again from 2009. Mae informed me that she was not afraid of the iguana, it was afraid of her. So she was coaxing it by tossing the grapes near it. Eventually greed got the better of the iguana and he waddled over to Mae and took a grape out of her hand. The folks along the fort wall up there for the battle were entranced by this since the pirates were still setting up and not doing anything interesting in the field. Eventually the iguana got too greedy and it bit Mae's finger. Brig said it was no big deal, and told me when Mae would come home from her reptilian job, she would always have cuts and bruises. (Of course, Brig wasn't the one that got bit, either.) Mae later informed me that the iguana actually felt bad because it only nipped her briefly, not sinking it's teeth in. "It's teeth are small like a snake." (Small like a SNAKE? That doesn't conjures comforting image in my mind.) Diosa and her friend (whose name I don't think I have heard yet, so I can't even guess it) were doing battle commentary and they were keeping up a pretty interesting patter while the pirates and British were continued setting up in the field. The battle eventually started with Spike (in redcoat uniform) going over to where the pirates were for some reason. I didn't quite catch all the commentary because I was trying to figure out how to take good photos that explained what was going on down there. Anyhow, Spike went over there, something happened and he ran back over to the British side of the battleground. Well, he jogged back. Then the pirates started firing, getting off at least two rounds before the British started firing back. There was cannon and small arm fire, although it was sort of slow going from the fort wall POV because they'd fire and then have to reload, which takes several minutes even in the best of circumstances from my experience. Diosa's companion (who seemed to be the color commentator) explained how the cannon process worked while the crowd was waiting for the next salvo. They fired off several rounds which is not nearly as interesting to watch from the fort wall as it is from the battlefield. The crowd started getting restless. The two opposing forces eventually ran at each other and some sword skirmishes broke out. There were a lot of wounded by the end of it, so I thought it would be best to go resume my station for the wounded patient I may have to tend. This never happened, however, so I dodged that bullet. (Hah!) Several more groups did come to see me and and nattered on about surgery. Several of the other pirate groups had talked to me about seeing my presentation as they were interested in having their own surgeon. Handsome Devil of the Valhalla's Pirates come over to see my display and we talked at length about how he should start collecting what he'd need. Captain Black wandered over and they started discussing what on my table would be useful for the amputation presentation they wanted to do. I also met Sawbones Sally from.... well, I don't recall where she was from. We chatted a bit about what she needed. It was all very pleasant. I think I'm going to post this before I accidentally delete it. There is still a lot more to explain, like how I managed to wreck my wrist last night (which is why I didn't post when I got in early, early this morning. I could hardly type.) But you'll have to wait for it.

PoD just sent me a link to a similar book - The Dispensatory of the Royal College of Physicians, 2nd ed. by John Quincy, 1727. It has a cross-linked index at the end as well. You can check it out here.

Tonight turned out to be a bit more than I had expected. In fact, I probably won't be able to recount everything that happened without the aid of powerful stimulants or good photographs. (Based on what I recall taking, the photographs will be mediocre at best, so this may be all you get.) It started out with my planning to get together with Beowulf for dinner, but he was unable to make it. So I dressed in my jeans on the bottom half and garb on the top half because there was a bit of a chill in the air (and the garb is nice and warm) and I went over to see Stynky in an adjoining condo waiting to hear from Braze. While we were waiting, Stynky showed me a children's book about pirates and Santa which had a cameo of him (Stynky) in it. Stynky in a children's book...that is just wrong on so many levels. Giving up on Braze, we decided to go to dinner. First, Stynky insisted I dress fully in garb because he has such high standards for dining companions. Following a trip back to my condo to change and make him happy, we headed for the Rum Barrel in downtown Key West for dinner: the corn and crab chowder which I prattle on about endlessly in the Journal pages. I will say that Stynky approved of, and possibly even endorsed, the Rum Barrel Corn and Crab Chowder as a meal worth walking a dozen blocks to get. I know he took several photos of this, although your surgeon completely failed to do so, so we must all hope he actually posts them somewhere I can get to when I start trying to assemble the web page. Although, thinking further on it, the whole thing really wasn't all that momentous,. so maybe it doesn't really matter. From there we went over to the Pirates in Paradise event where the Ms. Key West Pirate Contest was scheduled to begin at 6pm. (We arrived at 7:20 and it still had not started. Ah. Island Time.) Stynky saw several people he knew and he went off to greet them. One of them was Spike El Pirata, who is the partner of the guy from California whom I was talking about earlier who did the wonderful castings. (I really have to get that guy's name eventually.) While I was there, I continued to admire his casting work. If I have the cash by the end of the event, I may have to spring for one of his skeleton castings. (You guys know what a sucker I am for stuff with skeletons on it.) I met several people, most of whom I'll probably forget to mention here. One of them was Captain Triceps (who appeared in the 2010 PiP Journal.) He had four of his crew here, all down from New Jersey. I talked with them all and they were quite interesting, although I'm not sure I can remember all there names. I do know that Captain Triceps is not actually named Captain Triceps, which I think is a real shame. (Although I hope he doesn't mind the nickname because, as Stynky put it, "his tricep is as big as my thigh." His pirate name is Captain Charles Black and he heads up a crew of 25 or so pirates in Jersey called Valhalla's Pirates. He explained to me in a serious Jersey accent that they are really more into pirate entertaining than strict re-enactment. He did explain to me that he really wanted an opportunity to chat about how an amputation was done. (Something which I take great delight in explaining, especially to the squeamish.) His crew is looking to expand their repertoire by adding a leg amputation to the mix. They want it to be humorous, but they also want to be sure to get the basic outlines of the operation correct. I suggested he come over to the surgeon's table tomorrow at the fort where I will be happy to explain any and all surgical procedures that I can recall. Another of his crew members was Handsome Something, although I forgot what. We talked for quite a bit about doing re-enactments in Jersey. I told him I would probably forget his name and he said that it was OK, so long as I remembered the 'Handsome' part. [Edit: It was Handsome Devlin, which is kind of funny when you think about it.] He had been down for the event in 2009 but was not able to make it for the 2010 event and told me how much he appreciated the Surgeon's Journal. I paid him the $20 we agreed upon for being allowed to reprint that and then went away with a warm feeling. (So few people comment on the Journals that I am never quite sure if they are enjoyed or not. Fortunately, I enjoy writing them most of time, so it is it's own reward. Most of the time. Finally the Ms. Key West Contest started. I took several pictures of this, most of which probably won't come out. If any do, I am sure it will make for good web page fodder. They had the girls come up to the stage, go over and bribe the judges (by being saucy, sitting on their laps and whatnot) and then they came up to the microphone to answer some questions, none of which I can recall. At first I was rooting for one girl whom I call the tall, dark-haired girl because I have no clue what her real name was. She was a bit tipsy, which I suppose you have to be to get up and do this sort of contest. Then Spike El Pirate got up on stage and Stynky, Handsome and I decided to root for him instead. So we started chanting his name. The judges did not see fit to award Spike with the prize, however. The tall, dark-haired girl came in second. At one point she put on the announcers hat, which had a lot of feathers on it and looked kind of interesting. So I asked her to pose with it, which she did. Maybe you can see that photo eventually. I'd upload it now and put it on my Surgeon's Journal Facebook page, but I really want to get through all this before dawn. After the contest was over, I told Sarah aka. Apple Booty, who works on Pirates magazine that I was rooting for her. She said she wasn't in the contest, she was one of the judges. I said I knew, but I was rooting for her anyhow. Sensing this would make for a good running gag, I went back up to her twice more and told her this. You know what? It turned out not to make for a very good running gag after all based on her reaction. Oh, well. You throw scalpels at the dart board and see which ones stick. From there, Braze drove Stynky, a woman whose name I do not readily recall and I over to the fort. The woman who cannot be named (by me) was in charge of the Atlanta Pirates and Wenches Guild in the Atlanta area. Stynky told me they had over 400 pirates in their guild. She explained that they had some kind of event each month for guild members and I was duly impressed. I explained that my sister lived in Atlanta. Learning of this, Stynky (who has a house in the Atlanta area) asked why I never stopped by when I went to visit my sister. I think I said something about spending quality time with my family, but that was basically a lie. There was some concern about getting in the gate. Braze and I were the only ones who actually had our entry passes while Stynky and the woman who cannot be named (by me) did not. They had planned to hide in the back seat of the vehicle under a blanket, which may or may not have worked. Fortunately when we arrived at the gate, we were greeted by Lily, who must have been operating on fumes at this point. She knew us all well enough that she didn't even ask us for the passes. (Personally, I would have asked Stynky anyhow, but that's just me.) At the fort we ran into Chrispy. You know, come to think of it, we ran into him at the PiP site first, but he became really important at the fort because he promised to procure drinks for us. After 20 minutes of no drinks forthcoming, I tracked him down and asked him about this. He said he would take care of it and disappeared again. After ten minutes or so, he reappeared with Cutter, who had a bottle of something which we all flew towards like moths to a flame. it was a drink called Apple Pie which tasted pretty much like it's namesake. This reminded me that I had been rooting for Apple Booty in the contest, despite the fact that she was judging and... that joke still isn't funny. Ah, well. I spent a good deal of time talking with Greg and Sherry of Hudson Bay Trading company. Greg noted that his year's sales had started off pretty strong, but had really trailed off towards the end of this year. Being part-owner of a small business myself, I empathized with him. We have noticed the same trend. He was concerned that this event be a money-maker for him as it had been touch-and-go for the past few years. He had told me earlier that there was interest from a national magazine in one of his period bags. They wanted a high res photo of the bag for their publication this week so they could print it in a future publication. I took a photo with my little Cannon Sure Shot, although I don't know if the resolution is adequate for the magazine's needs. I figure to forward it to the magazine for him once he gets the email address of the magazine. I wandered over to the gate to sit with Lily while she was stuck there all alone checking people in. However, she was anything but all alone, so I sat down and started chatting with a guy whose name I didn't even ask for. He explained that his crew's surgeon was looking for tips and ideas. He said he planned to send her over to my table tomorrow (well, today now...) for more info. (All these people know me and I don't know them!) As it happens, he has a crew member who does some iron forging and we discussed the possibility of getting some surgical instruments made. (Where were all you folks two years ago when I needed a dental pelican in the worst way!) (The worst way is the only way someone can need a dental pelican by the way.) All in all, a very interesting night and I don't think I've told you the half of it. Oh, and I was rooting for Apple Booty even though she wasn't in the contest. No? Still not funny? Maybe if I keep repeating it...

This morning was mostly about doing little except remembering how to upload photos so's I could post them to the Surgeon's Journal Facebook page. (You can see the ones I uploaded here - including, but not limited to, a cat in a stroller.) Well that was what is was about until the phone rang. It was Stynky. He wanted to know if he could borrow a cup of sugar and my fish mug. No, actually he wanted to go to lunch. We chatted for about five or ten minutes about the Pyracy Pub and various aspects of PiP and people involved in it until I noted that this was really stupid. He is staying in a condo just across the way from me. I can see his porch from my porch. So I invited him over for really weak coffee (I don't make coffee for myself very often and I am cheap, so when I do make it it's usually too weak.) After bit of that, I suggested we go to lunch at... where else... Blue Heaven. (It's just so damned close that it's hard not to go there.) While there, he took several dozen pictures of me explaining that I should not pose. Feeling like a complete and worthless tourist, I just gave in. (What else can you do when you're hanging around with Stynky?) He claims he is going to email them to me so I will try and post one or two of them on the FB page. I also learned that Stynky used to raise chickens. I had a friend who used to raise chickens. That experiment lasted about a year once he learned that the chickens were loud, stupid and messy. Stynky told me that this was because he got the wrong kind of chickens. He had a chicken that he claimed laid multi-colored Easter0style eggs with blues and greens in them. All I wondered is what you have to feed a chicken to make it lay green eggs. (And ham.) I do know this: chickens will eat anything, including chicken. With this bit of knowledge securely in my skull, we finished our breakfast/lunch and left. I wanted to go to the store, which he drove me to (as I have no car), but that is not interesting. So forget I mentioned it. Then I suggested we try to find Deadeye's place so I could get a picture of the couch for you, my readers. (When I told Deadeye I wanted to do this he seemed to be a bit concerned that you all would get the wrong impression of him. "It's only been there a few weeks," he explained. I assured him that I hadn't made him look crazy or anything and that made him even more concerned. "No, it's better if you give them the idea that I am crazy." So, for the record, Deadeye is crazy.) Anyhow, I explained to Stynky that I didn't know what street Deadeye lived on exactly, but I know roughly where it was. Regular readers of these Journals will recall the adventure of Brig and I which I mentioned earlier wherein we used my patented method of finding places on the island via what can only be euphemistically described as a :"circuitous" route. So we wandered around for a bit with me giving rather abrupt directions to "turn here." I knew the street started with a 'D.' In fact we did find the street without too much misdirected driving only to encounter the crack Key West random street-closing brigade. (Shades of my adventures with Brig.) Rather than plow ahead into the construction area, Stynky decided to find a place to park and we hoofed it. As it happens, the couch was not yellow as I said before, it was a sort of beige. (What can I say? It was dark when I saw it last.) Becky was on the porch now, so I photographed her for your reference. I also saw the ship's wheel light with it's pile of galvanized mounting chain on top of it, so I snapped that as well. Since no one was there, I couldn't get in to photograph the Mae snake. I may have to forgo that particular bit of business because I imagine Deadeye won't want to return home just to let me get a shot of the snake. Ah, well. Stynky wanted to see the PiP setup, so we headed there next. He ran into a friend of his from California who had come all the way here to sell his castings. He had some really cool castings, which, now that I have said that, I wish I had taken a photo of them. We then headed into the fort to get signed up and see if any work needed to be done so that we could avoid that. Lily was running the registration booth, grabbing fists full of leaflets from the event sponsors when people showed up. Having done that, we wandered into the fort where people were setting up. Greg Hudson had his shop completely set up, so I went there to see if I could score a red kerchief. I have been looking for one for about a year. He had a few kerchief, one of which was actually dark red. So I can cross that off my bucket list. We stayed for a bit, chatting with those who weren't busy and finally decided to head back to the condos. But not before we went down to the beach so Stynky could test the waters. (Well, see if they were fit for swimming. He assured me he had brought his trunks.) While there he decided to take a panoramic photo, something he said his camera was not really all that good at. (Hey, don't ask me. I just work here.) He put me in the panoramic photo, which I had thought might be interesting in the web version of the Journal. Except he called to say it didn't come out well. So then he said "We have to go back and take another one later." I guess I get to cross that off my bucket list as well. Well, I would if it was actually on my bucket list.

We only went two blocks, although you make my point magnificently. I was thinking of poor Jack only just today...waiting there...all alone... in the airport... while MIssion misdirected Brig.

Well, the flag burning ceremony was a flaming success (hah!), although it took a couple of tries to get the hurricane flags to take fire. Liberte Sparrow was in charge of lighting them and, even though they were rum-soaked, they didn't want to burn. Can you really blame them? I mean to say. I wore my Patrick Hand Original Planter's hat so that people might recognize me. At first, no one did. I thought the hat was iconic. (Maybe the hat is iconic, but Mission isn't. Whatever the case, I wasn't recognized at first. Finally Jonathan showed up and spotted me. Then Caribbean Pearl noticed me, although she couldn't remember my name. (She couldn't remember my pirate name. She doesn't even know my real name.) Anyhow, with much ado, the hurricane flags were finally alight and everyone wished a fond farewell to the hurricane season. One without any Key West hurricanes, I might add. While I was there, I spoke to Dutch of the Meka II. As it happens, the Meka II double's as Dutch's home. It is a 30-40 foot wooden ship which he is in the process of re-outfitting. He had it down in Florida for a while, but moved it up to Beaufort, South Carolina. He said there was a really good ship's carpenter there who was helping him to outfit his vessel. He made quite the passionate appeal for Beaufort, which intrigued your surgeon a bit. See, I want to do a new event next year and I haven't decided upon which one yet. Still, Beaufort is a long journey for me. Bringing the surgical stuff is definitely out of the question as I wouldn't want to drive that. But you never know. Feeling particularly conspicuous in my street clothes, I finally decided to go back and change into my period duds with a bit of prodding from Jonathan and some others. Returning resplendent in my Michael and Jessica Bagley original clothing, I was fondly embraced by several people. I had not showered since this morning, so it was not all that fond and embrace, but it was good enough for government work. I then proceeded to imbibe, which made things measurably more fond (in my eyes, anyhow) and I wound up kissing Caribbean Pearl at some photographer's request. Someone took a photo. Hopefully on my camera or y'all may never see it. (It wasn't that great a kiss, as I am unsure of the protocol for photographer suggested photos with people you don't know very well.) I talked at great length with several people, most of whom whose names I forget. One of them was First Mate Matt. I explained to him that I had thought of him when I was searching for new surgical tools and he was very enthusiastic about this idea. He said he had recently gotten into forging, a useful thing for surgical tools and I will have to think hard about exactly which tool I want him to make. (For there are many. Far too many...) I also ran into Commodore Swab and Sansanee, who I am always glad to see. I told Swab (aka Chad) about the glowing reviews I received of his work by a fellow blacksmith when I was at Brigand's Grove this year and he seemed to be measurably bucked by this bit of news. As well he should be. He showed me his latest creation, which is a huge brass cannon that had a Spanish name which all the alcohol has made me forget. It seemed like it was a word they also use for food. It was huge. I am quite sure it makes a ginormous noise when fired, although Swab said that the spring had broken on it and Lawrence was bringing down a replacement spring when he arrived later this week. I do so look forward to hearing it. It is, as most of Swab's creations seem to be, a beautiful piece. I also chatted quite a bit with Sansanee, Swab's lovely wife. I wish I could summon the impetus to upload the photo of her from tonight, because she has really captured the whole Asian pirate thing with her latest gear. She explained the whole ensemble to me, but I have forgotten most of it. The hat may or may not have come from China and was given to her by... somebody at some event she attended. She also had a sort of vest thing that was... I don't know what. Actually, I am wasting your time continuing in this vein because I sure don't recall much of merit. Suffice it to say that she had a really cool outfit and it suited her and you can see pictures once I upload them. She told me that she was interested in doing some sewing. I commented that she needed a nice European ladies outfit as I though the juxtaposition of the two things would go together well and she tentatively agreed with me. Perhaps we'll see that in the future. At 6:30ish it was time for the best dressed pirate and most somethingist wench contest. This was really something that does not lend itself well to words, but I took many photos of it and I'm sure they'll be in the web Journal. I don't want to spoil anyone's fun here, but Captain Wasabe (last year's winner of the Bad Ass Pirate contest) won this and Caribbean Pearl won the female category. There was to be a second round of contest, which was the Bad Ass Pirate and Buxom Wench portion of the festivities, but I was hungry and wanted to toddle off. So I bid my friends farewell and... stopped for some grog. See, there was this guy making grog from Pusser;s Rum using what he says was a period recipe and he was basically just giving it out to anyone with a container. Who am I to refuse that? It was quite yummy, which you wouldn't think grog would be, given that it was watered down rum. I asked him for the recipe, which he dutifully recited. All I can remember about it was that it contained water, brown sugar, rum and... something else. Three items is apparently my limit for remembering things. Whatever it was, I liked it. However, I was still hungry, so I wandered off. Which leaves me here, on the couch in my wonderful condo which I really want to rent again next year. In fact, I would like to buy a share in it so I can own it for this week and nobody can steal it. Alas, I am still hungry, so I think I'll stagger off to Kelly's this evening. It'll be enjoyable food, but probably not worth making a Journal entry for. So I will see you all tomorrow.

Aha! That will be useful when I go to put the webpage together later this month. There's nothing quite like an exploding snake to add to the Journal festivities. Minor stuff, but I'm waiting for the flag burning ceremony to start, so I think I'll post it now. Today I had planned to have breakfast with Keith and Lily, but that fell through. Rule number 1: Don't depend on plans made with event coordinators. So I went by myself. I then wandered off to the FTPI's largest sponsor: Pirate Scooter Rentals. I always like to have a bike to traverse between the condos and the fort, see? (By the way, you can see all the event sponsors on the website here: http://www.forttaylorpyrates.com/crew.html I am patronizing them because they helped us to get a shuttle bus for the event. But I digress.) Then I pedaled up to new town to buy some plastic anchors, a camera memory card and some breakfast fixings. Returning to my pad, I fixed the curtain rod. Still having the problem of the ambient light, I decided to get a shade for the room. Jonathan/Beowulf called me around noon with the news the he had just gotten up and wondered if I wanted to go with him to get something to eat. I suggested B.O.'s fish wagon, but since he didn't know the island I suggested he meet me at the Truman Annex gate and we go from there. Now I know where stuff is on the island because I have been here twenty-something times. But I do not know the street names, nor do I really have a way to explain my methods for finding stuff to people not familiar with the island. So when Beowulf arrived atop his trusty red scooter (whom we'll call 'Red'... because it was red. See?), I pedaled my bike over to him and managed to completely confuse him with my rather vague directions. "Do you know where the Turtle Kraals are?" "No..."How about the Half Shell Raw Bar?" "No." "Well, it's near there." Eventually we decided to Blue Heaven since it was very close and he could just follow me on the bike. (Trying to follow a bike on a scooter is a bit like trying to follow a horse in a sports car. Or something like that. Sorry, no better simile is coming to mind. Must be all the sun I got today.) We had a really interesting chat over lunch, talking about the events and how they seemed like they might go compared to last year. His perspective on the events is interesting because his first time here was last year when PiP was moved out of the fort. He also talked most lovingly about his hat, which you may recall from last year's Journal is modeled on that of the pirate Lynch from the Robinson Crusoe TV series of a few years back. (For those of you who are now lost, see last year's Journal on this page.) He has it with him this year. He explained that that hat maker did a wonderful job recreating that hat despite that fact the Johnathan kept bugging him about it. "Did you notice the crease on the left side there?" Jonathan asked. "It's not going to be exactly like the movie, but I'll do the best I can," the hat maker replied. So we can all look forward to seeing a photo of Jonathan in that on the web page. I hope. After lunch, I went off to Strunk hardware and purchased a light blocking shade, which I installed here. (Hey, they had a ladder on the porch, so they must have meant for me to use it!") I did a pretty good job of it, if I do say so myself. Further examination of the window moldings suggested to me that several different varieties of window dressings had been applied to this particular window. So it's not just me. (At least that's what I keep telling myself.) You may wonder why the hell I am fixing up my rental for the week. First, I like a dark room when I sleep. I read somewhere that you should block all sources of light in your room for better rest. (I may have read that in an article called "Tips for the Super-Anal", but I did read it. Second, this is absolutely the nicest condo I have yet stayed at in the Shipyard Condos and I do intend to return to it if at all possible. Therefore, I am not going to tell you the name of it, lest you get it before me. Sorry, them's the breaks. Well, that's all for now. I had planned to go over and help at the fort, but it sounded a bit too much like work. (That and I really wanted to do all that stuff I listed. Time to go watch the flag burning, I think. I doubt they'll hold it up just for me.)

The snake is 12 foot long. Deadeye was telling me about one that tried to eat an alligator. The alligator was too big and the snake was rent asunder. (Both parties to this apparently died - the snake during the renting and the alligator during the digestion.) This is a true Mae snake. No doubt Deadeye found it near the path in the park where we were watching for them in 2009.

I wasn't going to write this because it's only tangentially related to the event, but I can't sleep with all this stuff floating around in my head. So I'm going to write this. It's a prologue to the event, so those who don't care for the prologues can skip forward in time and read the next one. I arrived late without much to say about the flight here other than I spent an inordinate amount of time explaining my Patrick Hand Original Planter's Hat to a couple on the flight. (They did ask about it. It now has so much story attached to it that it practically deserves a Journal of its own... "The Patrick Hand Original Hat Journal. Day one: Sat on Mission's head for awhile. Then he took me off. Later, he put me back on. Then off. then on. Then someone squealed about cool I was and asked Mission if they could try me on. So they did." Then again, maybe it doesn't need it's own Journal. Keith picked me up at the airport, waiting for 15 or 20 minutes with me for my bag. The man is the soul of patience. While waiting for me, he also convinced several airport vendors to put up the Fort Taylor Pirate Fest posters. He was definitely more excited about seeing the posters put up than seeing me. (Which I can understand.) On the way to the condos, we talked about his time in the armed forces. He had been in the first Gulf War and had managed to get to Australia thanks to the US Navy on a missile ship that was a "beefed up destroyer." I asked him if he'd ever been on an aircraft carrier (something I'd always to do) and he admitted he had been on the Abraham Lincoln. No doubt this was what Lincoln had hoped for when he finally won the presidency: a ship as large as a city named for him. He said that when the aircraft carriers were in port, his destroyers had to turn off their microwave transmitters or "they'd fry everyone on the top deck!" After installing myself in my condo, I toddled over to Keith and Lily's condo, which is right across the way. That place is FTPI Mission Control. Leigh has set up her laptop, a printer and microwave transmitters (in case people on the roof start getting frisky and required frying.) She was busily sifting through data the whole time I was there, printing flyers and schedules and sorting through various papers and what not. Keith and I contributed by drinking something called a dark and stormy, which was named for Snoopy. (A virtual nickel to anyone who gets that reference.) These contained ginger beer and some sort of dark rum. Needless to say, we were less than productive. After dinner ordered in from one of the FTPI event sponsors, Keith and I decided to go and visit Deadeye. We had done all we could for Lily. According to Keith, he always found Deadeye's place by looking for the couch. Sure enough - there was a yellow, striped couch on the curb and there was Deadeye's palace. At this point, I would post a photo of it, but I can't. You know how you plan for everything and yet still manage to forget a crucial piece? This is the story of my pirate re-enacting life. In an amazingly boneheaded play, I managed to leave my camera's memory card in my computer. In Michigan. Very far from Key West. So... no couch for you. Deadeye's front door was wide open and we walked right into... and right through... his house. All the action at Deadeye's place is in the back yard. Even the shower is in the back yard. "Outside is the only way to shower," Deadeye confided to me. This philosophy would probably not work in Michigan quite so well. However, I once stayed in a house on the ocean in Australia where my bedroom had an outdoor shower which faced the ocean. I'll leave you to wonder if I used it. Someone was busily cutting and working chains for the ship's wheel chandellier which I believe goes inside Ol' Zach's Tavern in the fort. It had been hung by ropes before, but Deadeye and crew had decided it should be hung with galvanized chain this year. "For safety." Uh huh.There were all manner of other projects going on. Lots of signs being painted, included one for your surgeon. "Mission the Surgeon" it said in flowing script. "[scarlett] Jai does the lettering," Deadeye explained. "I do the artwork." There was a sketch in chalk on my sign which I dutifully admired. Keith later informed me that he had taken the MIssion sign out yesterday to show he and Lily, but it had rained that day. "I probably shouldn't do them in chalk," Deadeye commented. There were several other projects in place as well as a very large whitish-yellow snake. "You know those snakes that are always turning on their owners?" Deadeye asked me. "This is one of those," he announced, with pride. I'm just glad it was in a large cage. "What do you feed it?" I inquired. "Rabbits." "You feed it bunnies?" I asked with mock shock. "Not cute ones. I get them from the pet store." We chatted for quite a bit longer about things I don't recall and then Keith and I left. I returned back to my condo just in time to tear down the curtain rod in the bedroom. Yep. Pulled the screws right out of the wall. Sometimes I don't know my own strength. (Actually, sometimes people don't know how to install things into drywall. Maybe tomorrow I'll go down to the hardware store and gets some wall anchors for the owners.) You may wonder why I did this. (After the thing hit the floor, so did I.) In fact I was trying to throw a sheet over the curtain rod as the curtains let a lot of ambient light in the room. I sure took care of that now, didn't I? Fortunately I always carry a screwdriver with me (just like the Doctor, although not as cool) and I was able to re-install the curtain rod. I don't want the neighbors to be looking in while I'm sleeping. (Although I should note that I have showered with nothing between me and the ocean in Australia. (Clears up that nagging question for you, doesn't it?)) OK, I think I got all that out of my head. Maybe now I can go to bed. Although there is still a lot of ambient light coming into that room...

Ah, yes. I see what you mean. This would be a wonderful resource for someone doing an Apothecary impression. I find a good Pharmacopoeia is very useful for translating period medicine recipes (or 'receipts'). There are several out there, I happen to use this one. It doesn't lay the preparations out like the one you reference, but it will get you most of the info you need. It's also alphabetized giving medicine names in Latin as the medicines were. Medicine recipes were still rather jealously guarded and they were labeled in the original Latin by apothecaries. Because of this a good Latin to English dictionary can also be useful at times. You'll find several of those on-line as well.That Pharmacopoeia I linked to also has a nice summary of abbreviations at the beginning, although I find, like the language of the surgical manuals themselves, the abbreviations tend to be quite varied. There are still recipe ingredients that I have not been able to translate with it.

But...it just isn't PiP without Patrick...

Given how much things were changing in medicine and science during the 16th and 17th centuries, I'd recommend that GAoP surgeons actually pass on that if they are striving for period accuracy. Just by way of one example, Lind published the cure for scurvy in 1753 - which would have had a huge impact on the practice of the sea surgeon. This book was published decades after that. I am waiting for U of M to finally scan Woodall's book in. They have it, they just haven't gotten to it yet.

Last year they cooked a couple meals in the fort for all the re-enactors. And if Iron John and Paula are coming, there will almost certainly be food in Mercury area. Although keep in mind that you have dinner plans on Friday night.

Congratulations! Too bad about PiP.

Yeah, but that's 200 years out of period. The language and spelling would be dramatically different.

Why save something that is no longer a secret and will be known to all who want once the ship returns? All the documents you list are things that will most likely be required again in the future or have special meaning to the document holder. Secret instructions, once no longer secret have served their purpose and wouldn't seem to me to require saving for any reason, unless the document recipient were fastidious or there was some historical relevance to them. Still, I suppose if they were anywhere, they'd be in someone's personal records (most of which have likely been lost over time - if you've ever sorted through a deceased's records, you probably found yourself tossing a lot of stuff) or the Naval records. Although, again, it would seem to me that the Admiralty would write such a missive, give it to the intended person and that would be the end of it. Keep in mind that if they wanted a copy, it would have to be hand-written. There were no photocopiers or even carbon paper [1806]. I suspect you'd be more likely to find references to what the ship was told somewhere in the naval records. Still, you might ask Foxe or PoD for more info on such a thing. I am no document expert, I'm just applying my version of logic to your question.

Wouldn't it contain information that the Admiralty didn't want leaked while the ship was in port? It's the only logical reason I can think of the give orders that weren't to be opened until the ship was at sea. From there you can surmise it might be a mission or destination or something similar. If you're looking for an extant example, I would think the very nature of the secret orders would belie such.

I take it Derrick is an alter-ID? If so, glad you're coming! Bring the fop with you, too. When are you arriving?

It's pretty simple, actually. First you would probe for the bullet using a metal probe. When found, you could use forceps or fingers to remove the bullet. They had all sorts of different shaped forceps for getting at things. You might also use a sort of spoon-shaped thing to try and scoop it out. These procedures would often involve opening the wound up more so you could get at it. If the bullet was really stuck or deep, they had a special device called a bullet extractor that actually screwed into the soft lead of the bullet. For a complete list and sketches of tools recommended by French surgeon Jacques Guillemeau in a companion book to the famed French surgeon Amboise Paré, see the Tools and Procedures part of my web page.

The making of the Patrick Hand Original Planter's Hat!! I was wondering where this was! (This is mentioned in every single Surgeon's Journal.)

Hah ha ha! There's some good ones. If the 2008 Journal wasn't already overloaded, I add some to it! This one is self-explanatory: Patrick Hand and his hat on some mustached schmuck: Diosa not going quietly down Duvall (man do I recall trying to find photos of this - my one time going along on the Mary and Anne walk through town): Awesome sail shot: "Oh, captain... there seems to be some sort of infestation in the field..." (Isn't Chrispy supposed to be blind?) I believe this is from El Meson de Pepe and the Walk the Plank Contest after-party? (That's a lot of alcohol for old M d'D...ta' have.)

The link doesn't work, DB. I think it's because Google has changed something about the way they address the photo sets. The link you have there takes me to my home page and my pictures, not yours. I suspect it do the same thing for everyone else.

Here's a reach for a leech moment for you... "When after the use of all these Remedies the Hæmorrhoids don't diminish, but the Pain and Tension remain, or increase, we must make use of means to empty those Tumours, which are of two sorts, either the application of Leeches, or Punction by the Lancet. The use of Leeches is preferable, as well because the Patient is less afraid of them than the Lancet, as by reason they make a smaller Orifice, which is easier cured: A Leech is then to be apply'd to each Hæmorrhoid, and left to draw 'till it be emptied, after which it is made to fall off, then the Chirurgeon makes use of a Liniment compos'd of Oil of Eggs, powder'd Ceruse, and calcined Litharge, laying on the Hæmorrhoids a Pledget [soft cloth] thoroughly moisten'd in this Liniment, a Bolster [another piece of cloth] above that, and over both a Bandage, which a little pressing them, hinders their speedy filling again." (p. 219, Monsieur Dionis, A Course of Chirurgical Operations)

I remastered the PiP 2008 Journal - my favorite amongst all the various pirate events I've attended over the years. If you're on the fence about going or just want to see what sort of bizarre things happen in Key West, feel free to check it out... I tried to make it easier to find those 30 pesky (but still fun IMO) extra pages in case you missed them the first time.

Cool! I look forward to seeing Lob. I mean you. If you want me to ship your gun(s), let me know.