Pew

Aye!! Hear, hear!! To all the participants!!

Or thereabouts.... http://pyracy.com/index.php?showtopic=13825 It's only a sketchbook there Matusalem...

Don't worry all, you have plenty of time to send off your gifts for me to receive by the 21st.... If you were wondering what to get me:

Several folks have pm'ed me with observations, comments and issues. 1) Members are not receiving books until well after the first of the month, (and I don't mean the second week of that month, more like the last week.) 2) Members are not receiving books for a certain month, and then getting two books to be done or the next mailing. 3) Questions about the amount of work in each book 4) Communication among members about time frames While this is not a rant, it is simple genteel reminders about the articles you signed before heaving aboard. I understand that life sometimes gets in the way with all of us having careers, families, and other hobbies. Especially around this time of the holidays where there is an added dimension to all our lives. I have mentioned one or some of these points of contention along the way and felt that maybe a thread is worthy of these reminders. A schedule for mailing the sketchbooks is vital to the success of the project. if you cannot mail the book off by the first of the month, please contact the artist it is to go to and tell them it may be a little late. A week is understandable, but by no means should it be the end of the month. I know Patrick and Ransom have mentioned this specific issue is the past two sketchbook rounds, so while it is not a new issue to our round, it is nonetheless still prevalent and needs to be addressed. Secondly, several times, I myself have received multiple books doubling the 'load' to be completed. ONE book, ONE month. It's that simple. Some folks do not any books, while others have two. A situation like this can lead to books being lost, (ask how I know), misplaced or not mailed at all. Please, only send one book at a time. If you receive two books, then only send one and the end of the month. I myself have two, and will only send one of the two to Matusalem by January 1st. Another issue some have asked about is the amount of work they have to complete in each book. There is no 'required' amount to be completed. I myself have drawn tattoo-esqe type murals that take only two pages but are very intricate, and some journal entries that may be 3-4 pages. Do what you feel. If your muse is on holiday, then think simple for that month. A simple stamp or caraicature is fine. Maybe decorate the border, or cut-n-paste some piratey pictures on those pages. As long as there is something from your port-o-call, then your duty has been done. I mentioned this earlier, but, if you do feel that you will be behind in the month's mailing, please let myself and/or the artist know the sketchbook will be late. Again, while a week or so is okay, please remember that that artist will now only have 3 weeks to keep the cycle alive. Finally, HAVE FUN! This is not to be a project where you are forced to draw 'til you fingers bleed, (while it may look neat in a goache, it's not sanitary, hee-hee). Thank you all for participating!!!!!!!

As the Lucy's hull scended and pitched upon each wave finally reaching the open sea, Preston walked about the deck and called the ship's officers into the ward room.

The jollywatt bumped alongside the Lucy. Hands were offered to help the marines and their weapons back aboard. Several pats on the back and greetings were shared again. In a matter of moments, the jollywatt had been swung aboard and secured. Those marines arriving fell in line round the capstan and immediately strained their backs in time with those men already present. "Cyrus, 's you were," called Preston from the rail. Mister O'Madden started with a low hum and then continued his song where he and his brother left off. "Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile," they sang. They wove round and round stomping in their inner circle a path well beaten by sailors before. The capstan groaned and slowed nearly to stop again, when, at once regained twice the momentum it had previously. "Mister Tucker, have your men secure th' bower. Mister Brisbane," called Preston. He turned from the bow and saw that Nigel and Logan were already at the tiller. "Aye Mister Pew," returned the call forward. "Set 's course back t' Fort Royal harbor. An' I'll need y' promptly 'n th' ward room." "Aye, Mister Pew." At once the deck was a flurry of activity. Those men of the larboard watch had scurried into the rigging. The anchor had broken the surface of the water. The Lucy had slowly come about on her stern and was now facing southwest running before the wind. "Prepare t' make sail!" The wind was full astern and Preston looked out to sea. He could feel the wind at his back and gauged its speed to be five or six knots. "Lead along topsail sheets," Preston called above. He waited one moment longer, "Lay out and loose!" Nigel pushed the tiller to starboard just as the sail caught the full breath of the wind. "Man the jib halliards! Clear away the downhaul! Hoist away!" The Lucy rolled on her hull a bit as she gained speed. The ship's master called next for the mainsail to be set. Calloused hands pulled at the yards to trim the sail. Preston jumped down from the rail and made his way aft. "Mister Johnson, a single shot from Fionn should suffice 's a farewell, eh?" The Master Gunner smiled. "O' course Mister Pew." Minutes later a single cannon shot echoed around the harbor; to himself, marking Preston's first command of a ship.

"Gentlemen," Preston offered both the Cox'un and the Bo'sun as they approached the ship's master. "Mister Pew, wot be for the scurrying about?" asked Nigel. "Mister Flint brought 's word from the Captains that we are t' make sail for the Navarra back 't the harbor of Fort Royal. The Watch Dog will join 's on th' morrow." Nigel and Christopher waited a moment longer as if Preston had something else to say. "Tha's all I know. Mister Flint has gone ashore t' collect our marines. He will report business ashore 'n his return." Preston nodded briefly and left the officers on the quarterdeck. He yelled for those in the waist to man the capstan. Eight men immediately moved to within the poles. Preston moved to the bow to watch as William DeWitt and Valentine Duvale readied themselves to guide the cable as they had done before on the Maastricht. He then stood at the rail and shielded his eyes to watch for Bill and the marines. As soon as he saw the jollywatt, he called for the men to begin hauling in the anchor. Several grunts and groans from the men were replaced by a low hum. The ship's master stood on the rail and held himself in the rigging. He could hear a low voice, "Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile." Preston listened for a moment and watched the capstan slowly begin to rotate. "Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh!" A song began to emerge from Patrick and Cyrus. Ian sung what he could, but did not know all of the words as the brothers continued. ""Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Óró ‘Sé do bheatha ‘bhaile, Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh! ‘Sé do bheatha a bhean ba léanmhar, B’é ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn, Do dhúiche bhreá i seilibh meirleach... Is tú díolta leis na Gallaibh! Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile, Óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda, Gaeil iad féin is ní Gaill ná Spáinnigh... Is cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh! A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceann, Muna mbíonn beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain, Gráinne Mhaol is míle gaiscíoch... Ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh!" The men had the cable slowly returning aboard the Lucy. Under full strain, the capstan stopped. Lucky Tuck shielded his eyes as he looked to the ship's master, "Mayhaps the marines could lend a hand Mister Pew?" "Aye Tuck, th' bower may be stuck b'low."

I vote bacon.

The trip ashore went sooner than expected with a <thud> as the bow of the jollywatt rubbed against the wharf. Bill Flint, still with Tawny on his mind, needed to be prodded from thought to help tie off the craft. Bill climbed out of the small boat in search of his marines. He found them just ashore of the wharf. Harold Press was the first of the Lucy to catch sight of Bill Flint. He wet his forefinger and thumb, put them to his lips and blew hard. A loud screeching whistle burst forth from Harold. Each of the Lucy's marines poking about the town immediately reported to the wharf where they were met by the Master-at-arms. In a brief moment they were aboard the jollywatt awaiting transport to the Lucy.

Preston's eyes widened at the very thought of command. Preston wanted a complete report immediately. Is he to return to St. Pierre? Shall he bring the Navarra north? What is he to tell the Captain? Flint had been purposely brief. Preston was immediately frustrated. His better sense told him a full report with the ship's officers would be more fruitful in proffering the details of the evenings sail. "Very well, Misters Cosset and Milling are t' man th' sweeps. A full r'port upon your return t' th' Lucy Mister Flint." "Aye sir, yes sir."

Patrick's went today to Matusalem

Hi again Chantelle. That wasn't our cup of tea over there....try here also: http://z10.invisionfree.com/Ye_Olde_Tavern/index.php?

Aboard the Lucy "Ahoy the Lucy," called a longboat just off the starboard bow. Andrew Smyth had sighted the craft when it was several cable lengths off. He replied. The marine looked below from the main and asked Geoffrey to fetch Mister Pew from the Ward Room. Those crew on deck looked over the rail to see Bill Flint and Tudor Smith rapidly approaching. ____________________________________ Navigation Log of the Lucy: Direction: At anchor, bow facing E Speed: At rest Wind: Light northeasterly winds, light breeze, 2-4 knots, very small wavlets,

Aboard the Lucy The men returned to their posts. Sullen, Peter trudged below under the guise of the powder monkey. Preston nodded at Nate and Ash and merely stated, "As you were."

"The horse and mule live thirty years And never knows of wines and beers. The goat and sheep at twenty die Without a taste of scotch or rye. The cow drinks water by the ton And at eighteen is mostly done. The dog at fifteen cashes in Without the aid of rum or gin. The modest, sober, bone-dry hen Lays eggs for noggs and dies at ten. But sinful, ginful, rum-soaked men Survive three-score years and ten. And some of us...though mighty few Stay pickled 'til we're ninety-two." Cheers!!

On the old pub site, we had a little area to fill out as far as your bios. Now some of us may know each other well (fairly, wishing or otherwise), but where did you come from. What is your pirate 'character' background? Many of us participate online in the fiction section of the pub, telling tales and stories of piracy, privateering and such. Many of us also participate in person in many of the Renn faires, Reenactor fests, Privateer Days, and living history stories across the U.S. In participating in any of the aforementioned activities we tend to create a history of our birth, special skills we have, or an odd fact that may describe why we act the way we do 'in character'. In short, many of us have a 'backstory' as to who we are, piratically speaking. So. Who are you? Wot's your story?

Aboard the Lucy Preston had finished his mug and curled it around his hand. He rapped it upon the rail everyone once in awhile just to match the tune he sang to himself. "Fine day seems, aye sah?" Charlie and Preston had spent the better part of the morning together chatting and regaling tales of their former adventures. Eventually the talk came round to scars and more than one crewman stopped by to add their own to the discussion. A sudden musket report sounded from the stern. Both men and those seaman standing about turned quickly. The smoke cleared quickly to find a mane of copper-brown hair billowing gently in the breeze. Preston thought of Ash's scar for a moment. "Tha's not a fowlin' piece m' lady," called Peter Norman. The crew on deck laughed. Even Nathaniel Brocke did all he could to stifle a laugh. "Was that a loaded shot Mister Brocke?" Preston asked the sergeant-at-arms. "Nah sah. Jus' powder," replied Nate. The laugh erupted again. Preston leaned down to Geoffrey and whispered in his ear. The lad took off below deck. "Mister Brocke, if ye'd be s' kind as to load a shot 'n both muskets." "Aye sah." "Mister Norman step forward." The brawny 20 year old stepped forward flashing his toothless grin. Preston was handed a musket from Nate which he in turn handed to Peter. Nate loaded the second and handed it to Preston. He shook his head and nodded towards Jenny. "Sah!" Geoffrey yelped as he handed two bottles to the ship's master. "Thank you Mister Wayne." Preston took the two bottles and made sure the cork was secured in each. He hurled the bottles over the stern rail into the harbor. Peter rushed to the rail and took aim. "One moment, Mister Norman," Preston stated curtly. "Sah, how am I suppossed to hit the bott..." Peter was cut off by the sound of the second musket being fired. He spun to see Jenny in a cloud of smoke. The crew was silent. Preston called atop the mainmast, "Wot say you Mister Smyth?" The crew looked to the ship's lookout. "A good shot sah. No bottle t' be seen." A low murmur could be heard among the crew. Jenny Ashcombe smirked at Peter. Peter shrugged the look off smartly and put the weapon to his shoulder. He scanned the gentle waves and could just make out the bottle some distance south of the Lucy. Peter breathed deeply and fired. The crew rushed to the rail. "Mister Smyth, your report?" called Preston again. "Hard t' say sah," shouted Andrew. The crew scanned the harbor for any sign of the bottle. Several 'huzzahs' went up for Peter until Mister Goddon called Peter to the rail. Charlie pointed south-south-east of the Lucy. He placed his hand on Peter's shoulder, "I do believe she's still afloat Mister Norman." "DAMN!" stammered Peter. The crew laughed out loud at his missed shot and cheered for the Captain's steward. "Mister Norman." "Aye, Master Whitingford" Peter replied with what clenched teeth he had remaining. "Mister Wayne could use your help b'low sifting th' pistol powder."

So, I have Patrick's, Ransom's and Pyrateleather's. Patrick's is to go out end of this month, as for the others.....

In.

No worries. The main part of this is to have fun. The beatings will continue until the correct procedure is followed.

Yep. I guess I am still at a loss as to why folks do not have any books..... If one book is sent to the person below you, then everyone should have one book until November 30th or so. Remember, don't send it off when you're done, send it at the end of the month... Everyone who has a book currently, please hold onto it until November 30th.

Aboard the Lucy Ash had yet to return to the deck, but Nate was there with two muskets. He waited patiently with his box of apostles, and a small horn of powder. Preston watched for a moment as the young sergeant-at-arms fitted two shots for the muskets. Preston nodded as Mister Brocke met his eyes. The ship's master suddenly heard an unfamiliar tune being whistled. He moved towards the bow and saw Patrick and Cyrus polishing Badbh and Lugh, two of the ship's brass 6 pounders. He smiled as Patrick winked and continued to wipe the evening's rain from the muzzle. William DeWitt and John Kingsman were making their way down the ratlines just finished securing those lines that had come loose in last night's storm. "Sah," both men reported. "Gentlemen," Preston replied. Charlie Goddon appeared on deck with a steaming mug for the ship's master. "Mister Goddon, g' morning." "Aye sah." Charlie said. He saw Preston looking aloft. "I 'ad th' lads secure those which came loose last night. Mister Johnson 'ad th' boys out at first light." Preston saw the Bo'sun's mate watching Cyrus and his adopted brother. "Cap'n Lasseter 'd be impressed," Preston remarked. "Aye sah, hope so sah."

Pew...At this point I am waiting on two books, I am hoping that they are still in transit as Callenish mailed them off on last week. Wait, wait, wait....You are waiting on books from Cal? I sent you Jill's beginning of the the month, and have Patrick's to go out next week. You should Red Handed Jill's currently. I hope I read that wrong, as only I should be sending them you, (via the mailing order) .....

Didn't Patrick start a drunk pub thread already?

Absolutely. Have at it....