Black Mab

With the nose of a purebred bloodhound, Mab can smell a good margarita from a mile away. She wanders blindly through a packed room of carousing pirates sniffing the tangy-sweet scent of fruit mixed with tequila . . .mmmmm . . .where oh where can the margaritas be?

Classical violin. My teacher was horrid at teaching fiddle (which I hear is supposed to be fun but I just dreaded it) . . . and then I moved to California and stopped practicing . . . anyone have (or know where to find) any good period fiddle/violin music and/or of any ensemble groups?! 'cause, that would be so cool to do! I should pick it up again. Does anyone bring their instruments to events? If so, how do you protect them from heat/damp? How did seamen do it, I wonder?

Actually what Pat needs is someone to follow him around all the time and document all of his cool projects... I would volunteer in a heartbeat! I love reading of Patrick's projects and experiments. How did you LEARN all this stuff?! So in awe . . .

Isn't that illegal or something? Maybe the presenters were pirates, too . . . Hmph, at any rate sorry for the snafu but looking forward to meeting you at Oceanside!

Yowzah! Thanks, Rumba! Spoke to Cap'n Kent about it and he patted me on the head and calmed me down and I think I'm all good to go now. Yay, camping! Someday I'm just going to have to make a nice (collapsible) canvas wedge tent so I can sleep in the encampment

Can't swim in the lake?! Wow, I am disillusioned. Okay, fine. Poo, a fee to shower? I would rather be dirty and keep me gold in me pockets where it belongs. Okay, I think I'll call and find out whether there are any basic pads left. Again, many thanks for all the tips!

Thanks, Jill, that is very helpful. Do you happen to know whether there is a fee for the camping area? Running water . . .pfft! I'm a Colorado girl. I plan to bathe in the lake

Sweets, streamers, a cupcake, and riotous noise come spilling out the door, to where Mab is sitting on the porch swinging her legs. She picks up the cupcake, inspects it closely, brushes it off and eats it in three huge bites. Licking frosting off her fingers, she finally hops up and saunters through the door just in time to witness the three dancers go flailing to the ground in a tangled mess of pirate arms, legs, ruffles and frills.

Rumba: I do own a tent. It's a nice, modern LLBean 4-person. I didn't think LLBean started manufacturing tents until later in the 18th century, though I've never been to this event. Can anyone tell me how camping usually works? I mean, there is a link on the Gold Coast Festivals site to the Lake Casitas Campground - do you know whether lots of people camp there, or do people just set up in/around their own encampment? Rumba, I'm going to bombard you and everyone else with questions at Oceanside Get ready.

Does everyone have their lodging arrangements already made? I just found out that the person I anticipated splitting a hotel room with most likely won't be joining me after all . . . which rather leaves me up the proverbial creek. Of course, I have not actually made reservations yet (was waiting on confirmation of flakey mate) . . . suppose there's even anything left or am I going to be driving back to LA on Saturday night? Anyone have any thoughts on this (other than a slap upside the head to get my business together further in advance next year)?

"But . . .but . . .but . . .'e's had 10 pages!" she protests weakly.

I love this thread. I feel more knowledgeable for having read it (not that I could probably go home and whip up a tent right now but . . .maybe!) What happened to the part where Mister Hand was going to post some thoughts on adding ties to the tent? That's the part I need help with. Thanks to everyone who posted pictures and diagrams - helps a visual learner like me out so very, very much!

Moira, better known amongst her friends as Mab, sticks her head through the door just in time to overhear William bellow,"PIRATES!" She looks around, braids swinging,"Where?!" And then ducks back out the door as Ransom brandishes a small pop-gun in her general direction.

I shall be there with bells on! Well, maybe not bells. Smelly pirate socks?

Oooh... most likely, yeah, After all it's at the BEACH!! I'll have to drive back and forth both days though.... have the Pirate Pup to think of. Ay! Hope you don't have to drive too far! Why don't you bring the pup with you?

Unbelievable. Well anyway, my first "in person" experience will be next weekend in Oceanside, and after that in Ojai. I'll post more thoughts on a kit then, but for a beginner it seems the best advice may be: 1. Stay within your means. Be honest with yourself about what you can afford and what you really want out of the experience, whether it be "weekend warrior" or full-time, honest-to-god Pyrate (oh god did I just jump on a bandwagon there?) 2. Develop a character and do your research. It will help to know what you need if you know "who you are" and what your station in life would demand of you. 3. Always keep an open mind and be ready to learn from others. There are lots of people out there who are clearly very passionate about all this, have been around for a while, have had many unique experiences, and probably have a lot of wisdom to share if you are polite and patient enough to learn from them. 4. Don't be afraid to ask. Again, there seem to be a lot of people doing this in whatever capacity and they've all got lots of ideas! Many heads are better than one, and from creating working shoes out of modern desert boots to patterns to history to language to literature to building your own ship, someone has an ingenious idea or three out there. 5. Have fun! That is the whole point, no matter what your goal or dream. When it stops being fun, either stop doing it or find a way to make it fun again. Otherwise, it's just not worth it (nothing in life is). And that's my rather pompous two cents. Other people have said it before, or said it better, but take it for what you will and as I learn and grow, I'm sure my "wisdom" will change in many ways. For all of those of you who have had a part in it, or will, or may, a humble thank you.

Across the wide common room, sheltered from the storm in the safe harbor of the warm hearth, the shrouded figure remained as the main door repeatedly opened and shut, each time admitting loud and chilly reminder of the storm without. Had anyone bothered to notice, they would have seen a marked change in the crouched figure's posture as Miss McDonaugh and Mister Wenge stumbled through the door. Its interest clearly piqued, it watched with burning eyes as the pair exchanged words with the clerk and were led through the room in the direction of the back offices, taking special notice of Miss McDonaugh's limping gait. After the inner door had swung shut behind the curious guests, the wraith waited another several moments. Somewhere across the room, a fight broke out between card players. Harsh voices rose angrily. Tempers flared. A chair overturned as two burly men launched themselves at one another. In the ruckus that followed, no one noticed a pickpocket help himself to an inebriated guest's purse. Even fewer noticed that the figure next to the hearth had disappeared, as if floating away up the chimney with the smoke. In actuality, the shadowy figure's exit was far less theatrical. Walking quickly through the crowd, keeping to the corners and the shadows, he simply strode across the room and slipped into the passage leading back to the private chambers and sleeping quarters of those guests staying at the tavern. Stepping carefully in the dark, the figure found its way up the stairs, down a short passage, and into an especially dark space inside a tiny closet used for storing extra sheets and candles. Naturally, the closet was locked, but locks nary stopped a ghost and this skulking creature was not so very much different. The hiding spot turned out to be excellent. A guest exited his room a few paces down the hallway, and as he passed in front of the closet, the hidden specter could clearly see his feet pass by through a large gap between door and floorboards. Once again, the cloaked figure settled in to watch, and to wait.

I think this is what you're looking for. http://pyracy.com/forums/index.php?act=ST&f=7&t=11342 I made my shoes based on the ideas in this thread (I'm afraid I don't remember which page it's on but the thread is only 3 pages long so it's not that bad) - it took minimal effort and they look great. Post pics! -Mab

I'm coming down Friday afternoon to help PotC set up, and I'll be there all weekend!

Only blocks away from the square in which Captain Lasseter and Miss Ashcombe had collided, a sturdy tavern worker struggled with a shutter that had come loose of a window and was now banging loudly against the exterior wall of Le Chateau Anse. Light from the uncovered window filtered out, taunting the drenched repairman with a reminder of the dry and cheery common room. A glowing hearth welcomed wet and weary travelers, heated the space and filled it with light. Shadows danced on the faces of men warming their bellies with hot broth and ale, as others dried themselves around the fire or amused themselves with cards and dice. The tavern keeper stood at his bar, observing with satisfaction the scene spread before him, while back in the kitchens the cooks and staff bustled about preparing meals and keeping the cooking fires roaring. In the crowded room no one, not even the observant proprietor, paid any attention to a slender figure tucked into a corner on the far side of the hearth. A genderless being, wrapped in a dingy wool blanket and hidden beneath an oversized, floppy-brimmed hat, nothing about it attracted interest. The pair of eyes peeking from beneath the wide brim showed a great deal of interest in the rowdy proceedings of the room, however. The eyes were never still, never rested for long on one player in the cacophony. And yet, the creature seemed at all times to be watching the door. Watching, and waiting. Patience quickly bore fruit - the door slammed open with the driving wind and rain and a pair of soaked travelers all but fell through the portal. Their entrance naturally attracted the notice of several tavern patrons, however, nothing about them raised interest save to one; the still and silent figure beside the hearth straightened slightly, shifting to adjust its view of the pair as the male traveler conversed with a clerk. Of course the distance between the hearth and desk and the low din in the room, combined with the rain beating down outside, should have made eavesdropping nigh impossible. By luck or some darker design, a few words filtered through. A name, "McDonaugh." A word of instruction , and the all-to-obvious exchange of coins. It was enough. The eyes nearly hidden beneath the hat flickered with heightened interest and clearing comprehension. Wheels began to turn . . .

What about this: http://www.sportsmansguide.com/cb/cb.asp?a=306807 I can't tell if it's 100% or not . . . I like the Italian wool, but not that it has that white stripe. That doesn't look right to me . . .

No worries about the paranoia, I'm trying to learn. Pointers are greatly appreciated! Yeah, I'll probably end up sending the blankets back (or, since they were really cheap, just hanging on to them because one can never have too many cheap emergency blankets) I did look at those big white blankets. They looked great. I've never dyed anything in my life (that includes hair) except easter eggs - anyone have any experience with that?

Both!

Ooh, those look great! I'm sorely tempted to redo me own waistband . . . GoF, I feel your pain. I am the absolute worst when it comes to instant gratification.

Aye. That's why I'm going with the crappy blankets to be cut up and heading to me local surplus mart for better 'uns