Misson

And it made it and is sending back images. Hurrah! http://www.informationweek.com/news/hardwa...cleID=208400239

When no one's around, say it. It sounds funny. Beeves, beeves, beeves. You could do a whole Monty Python sketch around that word. "This here's the wattle, the emblem of our land. You can stick it in a bottle, you can hold it in your hand." "Amen!"

Wow, I just saw redivivus somewhere recently...I wonder where it was? Here's another word I've come across in several period accounts that I think sounds funny. beeves (bvz) n. A plural of beef. Actually, in the random phonetic spelling style so widely used during the time, surgeon James Yonge sometimes spells it 'beaves', which looks even funnier to me for some reason.

"Sept. 14 [1709 - in the Galapagos]...Our Pinnace came aboard and brought about 18 Bushells of Salt, and 18 Land Turtle more [they regularly caught turtles on this voyage and ate them] ; the Men commend them for excellent Food especially the Land Turtle, which makes very good Broth, but the Flesh never boils tender; for my own part, I could eat neither sort yet...We caught a good quantity of Fish here, which was split and salted for our future Spending." (Rogers, p. 142) "Octob. 19 [1709 - Tres S. Maria Islands]...We hal'd the Sain, and caught some fish." (Rogers, p. 147) I wondered what 'the Sain' was and tried looking it up on-line. The term is apparently either out of use for the most part or the spelling is different, but it appears from the best reference I could find to be a net that several men pulled from the water onto the shore. I invite anyone who knows different to enlighten me. Somewhere I also recall reading an account of their catching dolphin to eat, but I can't seem to find it now. Sorry to keep on about fishing, but this question came up on another forum years ago and one of the posters kept trying to tell me that they never fished from pirate vessels which I thought was absurd. Common sense suggests they would fish if they could do so. (I should have known better - folks who bandy absolutes like 'never' about so carelessly in reference to something that happened so long ago should be viewed cautiously. This is what worries me about W.R. Thower's books, although I like his info, some of which I have not found elsewhere.)

I was talking about the Thursday night option. Alcoholic punch in the morning doesn't sound that interesting to me. "Dammit Jim, I'm a surgeon, not a drunken sailor!"

Exactly. (Just how much lead was that refrigerator lined with?)

Welcome! One suggestion - please, please don't post in colors. It's so hard to read on the dark backgrounds. (I wish I was 20 years younger when my eyes were strong...)

If it's a gathering of pirates, there has to be a bowl of punch. There's nearly always a bowl of punch mentioned in the period accounts when pirate captains and crews meet in friendly circumstances. (It could be a punch party...)

Which is fine if the camp has to contact folks in the fort, but the problem seemed to be more that the fort didn't contact the camp. It may have only been my impression, but it seemed like a lot of the fort encampments forgot about us occasionally. Of course, if true, this may have just been because it was the first year there was an encampment. (In general, the organization of the crews and communications within the fort seemed looser than the encampment. Again, this may only have been my impression.)

Probably John Cusak as well. Harrison, Sean and John. Remember that WB Cartoon where Daffy gets turned into a weird composite monster with a flag on his tail with a picture of a screw and a ball? It would probably wind up something like that. Indiana Jones and the Deformed People of the Mission God...why does The Island of Dr. Moreau keep coming to mind?

From Woodes Rogers, regarding a careening camp: "June 16 [1709] We built a tent ashore [at Gorgona] for the Armourer and Cooper; set several Men to cutting of Wood, and clearing a Place for the sick Mens Tents. ... June 28 We got our Provisions aboard, and mounted all our guns [on the Dutchess]; so that in 14 Days we had calk'd our Ships all round, careen'd rigg'd and stow'd them again, both [the Duke and Dutchess] fit for the Sea; which was great Dispatch considering what we had to do was in an open Place, with few Carpenters and a void of the usual Conveniencies for Careening. The Spaniards our prisoners being very dilatory Sailors, were amazed at our Expedition and told us, they usually take 6 Weeks or 2 Months to careen one of the King's Ships at Lima, where they are well provided with all the Necessaries, and account it good Dispatch. June 29, Yesterday in the Afternoon we built a Tent ashore for the sick, who are now much better than when we came to the Island, neither the Weather nor the Air here being half to bad as the Spaniards represented, which made us think 'twould be worse than we found it. This norming we got the sick Men into their Tents, and put the Doctors [several surgeons & probably Physician Thomas Dover] ashore with them; We unloaded the Havre de Grace [Their third ship; a prize taken near Guiaquil], and chose a Place very easy to lay her ashore, to clean her Bottom. A clear Sand about a Mile and a half from the Place where we rode, near the South End of the island [A note about the sick men described above, who were infected during the taking of the town of Guiaquil. This was actually not scurvy, it was some sort of fever which Thomas Dover was to report in his book (The Ancient Physician’s Legacy (1742) as having been the plague. Some books about period medical practices that I've read suggest that "plague" may have been a common term for any very infectious health problem. However, other books about Dover suggest he was merely exaggerating to make himself look good in his book; something he had a tendency to do.] ... "July 1 [1709] We have Men imploy'd in our Tents ashore, to prepare the Rigging as fast as possible; a Rope-maker at work to make twice-laid Cordage, and a Smith, Block-maker and Sail-maker at the same time; so that we want not Tradesmen to fit her out." (Rogers, p 118-19) This book is one of the better that I've read about an extended privateering voyage. Everyone who's interested in details of a period careening camp should really read A Cruising Voyage Round the World. It contains a great deal more about victualling, careening, crews and so forth than I've copied on the website.

Have you ever seen an interview with Karen Allen? She is just as cool as you would expect her to be in an interview (at least the few I've seen.) If I were constructing the perfect woman, there'd be some of that type of person in there. (And when I got done, she'd have to go off and find the perfect man who would have some Sean Connery and Harrison Ford in 'im. )

Oh, ah. An interesting quote for you blacksmiths out there! "A portable forge was an important item in the equipment of every ship. Many a vessel returned to tell the tale after sustaining serious damage which was repaired successfully entirely from her own resources in some distant part of the globe. After his profitable voyage around the world in 1586-88, Sir Thomas Candish attempted another which was unsuccessful largely because of the bad weather he met in the region of the Cape Horn. When his damaged ships, one of them only 64 tons, found shelter where repairs could be executed, the first thing was to set up the portable forge on shore for making nails." (W.R. Thower, Life at Sea in the Age of Sail, p. 34)

This is sort of neat. I suspect it's well beyond our means to assemble any such thing for 2008, but I think it would be a cool to do given infinite supplies of money and people. "The hardest Work we had was to get the Guns down to the Water, the Earth being so soft, that they who help'd to carry them sunk half a leg deep. To make it as easy as I could, I contriv'd a Frame of Bamboe Canes, under which 60 Men could stand, and bear equal Weight on their Shoulders. Tho' they were large 4 Pounders, the Gun and the Frame did not exceed 15 C. Weight; but had not the Prisoners we took help'd us (tho' it had been an easy Task in a cold Country) I could hardly have pick'd Men enough on our own for the Work, John Gabriel, one of my Company, a Dutch-man was missing. [Rogers later learned that Gabriel was lying in a house in the town of Guiaquil drunk in a "Brandy-wine fit."]" (Rogers, A Cruising Voyage Round the World, p. 101)

Here's my Netflix review (I do so love writing Netflix reviews these days): This is a perfectly good summer popcorn movie and a solid, if unexceptional Indy entry. Like the Bond series it's patterned after, it has all the stock elements of the marque - harrowing escapes, astounding (and impossible) whip work, a mystical McGuffin to be obtained, double-crosses, involved vehicle chases as the McGuffin is traded back and forth, amazingly well-preserved creaky ancient traps, skeletons (lots of skeletons), villains dying in horrible ways, scenes involving wading through some disgusting parasite and a dash of romance. Basically, everything you expect. I suspect for their own personal satisfaction, Lucas has inserted a lot of 50s nostalgia scenes and Spielburg has his disFUNctional family scenes. And you can't talk about he 50s without taking about the Reds and the atomic bomb, so that's there too. You'll certainly get what you paid for. However, it lacks that certain spark that makes a fine summer bubblegum flick into a great movie. All the expected (now mostly digital) effects and action aside, however, the Indy/Marion repartee was definitely the highlight.

Wellll...it was better than Temple. I guess that makes it the third best Indy movie. Indy and Marion were the highlight for me as well. There were a ton of references to other movies (especially Raiders...including lifting the Raiders March verbatim from that movie...usually they at least tart it up with some of the current movie themes) which is sort of fun, but somehow the magic that makes a good movie a great one just wasn't really there for me. Lots of skeletons in many scenes, though - so that was good. Maybe I should see Iron Man...

Now here we get into that same fuzzy area of what might have happened, even though there isn't (so far as I've seen, anyhow) a record of it. If you believe people were as infinitely creative and whimsical 300 years ago as they are today, someone, somewhere could very well have used an oar for a tent pole. (Based on the dozen or so period accounts I've read recently, I can definitely say some of the people were whimsical and/or creative, although not specifically (so far) in regard to tent poles.) Still, if you want to be strict, it probably is a stretch. Just extrapolating from what little I know, I think it would be most likely that a castaway/maroon would do something like that as a temporary measure (temporary until he managed to create some sort of sea craft where the oar would be required or, in another scenario, to create a blade for chopping down a sapling). OTOH, it seems to me that it's a great pun and it would be criminal to sacrifice a great pun simply to satisfy strict adherence to some perceived realism. (In this instance, 'realism' being being defined as using the limited number of examples we know of to govern all our actions.) As a first time attendee in 2007, I was absolutely delighted to see that one of my fellow re-enactors had such a fine, subtle sense of humor. That small thing makes you feel like these are the sort of people you want to hang out with for a long weekend and write web pages about. (I believe William can testify to my lack of assuredness that I was in the right place when the weekend started. It's small things like this that quickly convinced me otherwise.) It might even be the sort of thing that could convince others to go from being a spectator to a participant. You know?

Actually, from this account, the oars were in regular use when they landed as I've noted elsewhere...fishing, visiting other parts of the island looking for water/food, going back and forth to their other ships (they had three total at this point and careened them one at a time) and such-like. However, II'm only a third of the way through this and I'm taking up Dampier's account of his voyage in 1697 next, so I'll keep a weathered eye for other notes on shore accommodations since y'all are interested. It was still apropos of nothing...we were talking about Michael's fine work.

Yet another interesting quote about fishing from Rogers book... "Febr. 13 [1709] Yesterday in the Afternoon we sent our Yall a fishing, and got near 200 large Fish in a very little time, which we salter for our future landing." (Rogers, p. 78)

Apropos of nothing... "Febr. 3 [1709]. ...'Twas very pleasant ashore among the green Piemento Trees, which cast a refreshing Smell. Our House was made by putting up a Sail round four of 'em, and covering it a-top with another Sail; so that Capt. [Thomas] Dover and I both thought it a very agreeable Seat, the Weather being neither too hot nor too cold." (Woodes Rogers, A Cruising Voyage Round the World, p. 74-5)

Hey, they're sending another polar explorer to Mars to analyze the ice! It's scheduled to land this coming Sunday, May 25th. Here's hoping it makes it to the surface safely and is able to transmit data to the Martian satellites! http://phoenix.lpl.arizona.edu/

Quality, not quantity...size matters not.

Here's another curious word I have frequently come across in period writings: Indifferent If you are like me, you think you know what it means, but it actually means many things and we should not be indifferent to the difference. First, a sample from a sentence in Woodes Roger's book A Cruising Voyage Round the World (it's a bit buried, but the description is sort of neat, so I'm reprinting it all): "[The Natives in a bay in the Straights of Magellan] were of a middle Stature, well limb'd, with round Faces, low Foreheads, little Noses, small black Eyes and Ears, black flaggy Hair Of an indifferent length, their Teeth white, their Faces of an Olive-Colour, daub'd with Spots of white Clay and Streaks of Soot, their Bodies painted with red Earth and Grease, their Clothing of the Skins of Seals, Guianacoes and Otters, wrapt about them like Scotch Highlanders Plads." (Rogers, p. 66) I have seen indifferent used this way many times in period tomes. From my favorite on-line dictionary, thefreedictionary.com: in·dif·fer·ent (n-dfr-nt, -dfrnt) adj. 5. Being neither too much nor too little; moderate. thefreedictionary does not describe this as an ancient use of the word, but I don't think it's in common usage - we seem to have focused on the following definitions: 1. Having no particular interest or concern; apathetic 2. Having no marked feeling for or against 3. Not mattering one way or the other Curiously, besides being used in this way frequently in period writings, indifferent sort of pops out at me because it was used oddly in a Bond "Know-It-All" Moment in one of my personal favorite Bonds, Goldfinger, in reference to some brandy: "I'd say it was a 30 year old fiend indifferently blended Sir. (sniffs) With an overdose of bon bois." Here, I think we are talking about yet another definition: 6. Being neither good nor bad; mediocre Such a word!

Here's some more from Roger's book on fishing: "We heel'd the Dutchess both sides by us, we had a great deal of Wood cut, caught excellent Fish with our Lines, and had Several Canoe from the Town..." (Rogers, p. 27) "The Fish we saw in the Road were Sharks, so well known that I need not describe them. 2. Pilot-Fishes, so call'd because they commonly attend the Sharks, find out their Prey for 'em, and are never devour'd by 'em. 3. The Sucking-Fish, so call'd because of a Sucker about two inches long on the top of their Heads, by the Slime of which they stick so fast to Sharks and other large Fish, that they are not easily pull'd off. 4. Parrot-Fish, So nam'd because their Mouths resemble the Beak of a Parrot. 5. A Rock-Fish, which is very good, and much like our Cod. 6. Silver-Fish in great plenty: 'tis a deep-body'd bright Fish, from 12 to 18 inches long, and very good Meat: But there are so many sorts of good Fish here, that we can't describe 'em all." (Rogers, p. 29-30) You should check out the book Life at Sea in the Age of Sail by William Rayner Thrower, bcddutchman. While I think Thrower makes a common mistake in regard to past eras - saying something is true (and, in his case at times, adamantly so) for everyone based on one or two individual examples - it is still very interesting. He talks quite a bit about cooking fires and food in his book. I believe he even mentioned how biscuit was made palatable as you're suggesting. (In fact, that and your comments about the problem of fires while under way are what reminded me of his book.)

If you like authors that unapologetically throw obscure words at you, read Leslie Charteris. I used to keep a dictionary close by when I was reading his novels. (In fact, the words were so interesting that I started keeping them in a notebook - which I have since lost. As I recall it, there were about 7 or 8 pages filled with words I'd never seen before and their definitions.) One of my favorites was cognoscente. Curiously, a few years after I stumbled across it in one of Charteris' novels and made it a part of my written lexicon, it started popping up all over the place in the press. (I found it absolutely hopeless in conversation - no one understood me - well, to be fair, I should say they understood me less than usual. )