Pyrates of the West Coast

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

kneeling beside the fires I am reminded that in all the mornings hurries I near to forgots ta drop my chin in prayer. Dear heavenly father be with us again this day as you yesterday did so successfully watched over our doings and safely guided us through our work. Would you bless us with such a strong foundation of skill and allow our faith to once again work as safely as well. in Your name .. BOOM.... BOOM.... Amen.......(I looks up) I wish he'd stop that! nerely scares me t'death he does.... his powder hungry needs are as well a fit known ta me. (I cups me hands) Turnin ta face the master gunner I says Petee? can ye share a smoke?

I stand and kick somethin under the sand and swear. Damn! I looks down and starts ta uncoverin some canvas wrapped reed tube shaped box of some sorts. Petee Lookin up with some excite. Petee make haste kind sir, Look at this!

[Pirate Petee]

*looks over from investigating his target* Aye, *he shouts back* Be right there.

[Pirate Petee]

*walks over Diego by the fire, pulls out a leather pouch of tobacco and pulls his pipe from his tricorn and hands them to Diego* Here ya go padre.

What that ya find there?

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I drops ta my knees and now whilst clearin the surrounding sand am remissed to say I think (I looks up to face Petee) I think I found a maproom case! Petee kneels down a glow in his eye! Treasure map?? he says!

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

*swaggers up shore line, returning from errands* Well, I think I got everything on the list - and got some pretty good bargins. Got the barrels of tar, five of ale for the price of four. I got a deal on the barrel of mead, and the water was easy. *starts unloading thebarrels and crates of nails.* I love having contacts in every port!

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I duuno lets get it out o this here sand and opens it!

heres one a roled and amazingly as under the waterline it be fer who knows hows long...

[Pirate Petee]

*eyes wide, with look of anticipation* Its a beaut, whats it say?

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Its a map of the West indies! Here! Look another one so I unfolds,

[Pirate Petee]

I don't reads much o da spanish, can ya translate?

And I can't recon I've seen that Isle e'fore.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

petee they are maps of the islands and the parishes on them here in the West Indies and another one as well So I opens it...

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

We have hit the mother load! Please find the Captain and the Quartermaster if you will Petee??? another one look....

[Pirate Petee]

*jumps up and runs off in search of the captain and the quartermaster*

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

(Looks up to see Rummy commin down to his excitement in the sand) Look Rummy Maps Right here under our pitch pot fires! I mean right here burien under the damn fires we could have dug into and burnt them! God saved us from that peril! Look another one as well...

[Pirate Petee]

*comes running back to the fire, out of breath* couldn't find em,...must be in town er sumpin.

[Rummy3]

Maps ye say! Let me takes a look see - ....... hm, I do believes these maps resemble some I've seen before. Gravely reviews the detail - then shares a might look at the good padre... Now - where exactly did you say you found them?

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Right here in this here buried canvas wrapped round box right under the very fires we dug pits for yesterday. 5 in total Rummy! Petee they are three Spanish Maps one I thinks is French and one is English they are in quite details showin shallows and harbors and inlets of deciet and ambush fer certs. The forts and shipping ports and ones with the Sapnish shipping lanes as well. The Captain is going to be one happy man he is. Lets roll and get them out of this sun!

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Petee I fergots yer under the good Surgeons care ye best stay too. No more runnins for ye. I am going to put these in your charge and must gets back to coating the upper boards lines. Take it easy and keep a weathered eyes on em till the Captain and the Quartermaster is in return.

[Pirate Petee]

Aye, padre, I'll gaurds em wit life. Oh, an I be feelin a whole heep better, but I guess its up to da surgeon ta tell me that Im cured.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I be with much thirst and will appreciate that smoke about now.

[Pirate Petee]

Aye, the pipe, I almost fergot. *picks it up from the sand packs a bowl and lights it, then hands it to Diego*

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

*Starts ta head back to the hammock by the palm trees.*

I'll follows ye ifin ye still 'ave that second pipe ready! Aye well done Master Gunner Wells done indeed. Takes the pipe from offerin hand and turns and picks up the longest stick in the pitch pot fire to re lites it! Puff.... Puff.... Surrounded in windless smoke me eyes close someswhat in the haze... Grammercy good man grammercy puff....

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

It appeared that things had calmed outside, the acrid smell of spent powder no longer hung the air. Curiosity had urged the Surgeon from the temporary lodgings into the brightness outdoors. A strong onshore breeze had whipped up since her earlier time on the ramparts and the demise of the fine bone China cup. Sniffing the air with appreciation of flora ladden quailities, she stepped from the secure walls to the powder sand beyond.

The scene in view looked much the same from the early morning, although a mental note was made of the change of angle that the ship currently rested at. Here and there, scattered about the line of palm shade, various crew members could viewed in subtle states of repose. A hushed brush of disturbance sounded from behind and with a quick rear glance over shoulder, she noted Armand's catlike movement to stand at her side...

[Dorian Lasseter]

::the tackle from shore, now eased, the 'Watch Dog' now waits for the incoming tide to lift her off the bottom, whence the ready crew will spin her about, so she may settle in the same locale to be turned on her side again::

A fyne thing, this..... once we be done wi' the hull, we's 'bout ready fer weighin' out.... that is, once we reload alla th' stores n' truck...

::scans the horizon, out to sea, around to shore, where he sees the surgeon standing upon the sandy beach... a smile crosses his face::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

(oops)

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

*Stepping further from the late afternoon shadow cast from the high walls behind, the heat of the the sands below raise in temperature to near discomfort. Quickening pace, the Surgeon nimbly pads to the relief of wet touched sands ringing the shoreline. A quick flash of silver races with the recede of water's course, a small school of tiny fish running with liquid retreat. Gleening the expanse of palms to the right, the decerning vision stops to focus upon a brief haze rising from clay pipe. In comfortable sprawl, the near distant figure of the Master Gunner is centered on. The instructions given echo through her thoughts, one in particular stands forward..."No intake of tobacco until otherwise advised..."*

Bloody hell...

*She starts to move toward where the Master Gunner sways in the strung hammock, then decides against it and calls through cupped hands...*

Mister Petee! You are here by released from my care. I shall make no further effort, nor have my reputation smeared as a physician by the after effect of improper heeding of my instruction. I shall inform the Captain of your release, do as you wish.

*Abruptly turning on heel, she returns to the fortitude. Armand shakes his head as the relay of announcement reaches his hearing. Standing back as she passes, the Frenchman shrugs his shoulders with a shake of head then follows in her wake.*