The Watch Dog

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Once the few crates that had been brought back from the wreckage were unloaded from the fishing boat onto the shore, Tudor came forward and stood next to Pew as he started to open the crates and sort through the retrieved goods. Fishing out the parchments she had just stowed along with the well used quill, she started to note down the inventory as the master at arms called it out to her. There wasn't much to be accounted for, some sewing needles and several diffrent coloured spools of silk thread. Some hair combs were also included, along with a small case of tobacco. "We could have a fight on our hands over that if we are not careful." She said with a slightly grim smirk as she caught a whif of the fragrant leaves.

[William Brand]

July 20, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Sixth bell of the Forenoon Watch

"Come in." William said, barely looking up from Tudor's neat handwriting in the new ledgers made just for the treasure items, but when he realized it was Mister Lasseter and not Jonas McCormick, he stood up from the open book.

"Mister Lasseter."

"Cap'n."

"I did not expect you back again so soon."

Mister Lasseter smiled and placed the newly discovered coins on the Ward Room table. He said nothing, for they spoke for themselves. William placed a hand on one coin and examined it where it lay. Then he looked at the Quartermaster.

"How many more are there?"

"Harold says hundreds...there...near th' wreck."

William just nodded slowly, a smile forming along one corner of his mouth. His eyes fell to the one coin under his finger. "Indeed."

A polite knock interrupted Mister Lasseter just as he was about to speak again. Eric Franklin ushered Jonas McCormick into the Ward Room. He wore a stern expression and looked around the room at once upon entering. William gestured to a chair, but Jonas seemed to prefer standing. This didn't bother William. He simply poured himself a drink and one for Dorian, passing a third glass to Eric as well. Then he picked up a fourth and held it a moment.

"Mister McCormick, do you have any experience with powder?"

Jonas narrowed his eyes, but he didn't answer. William filled the fourth glass and offered it to Jonas. When he didn't take it, William handed it to Mister Lasseter who used the contents to replenish his own glass.

"Mister Franklin, make Mister McCormick known to the Master Gunner and ask him to assign him to a gunnery crew." William said, picking up a gold coin from the table and tossing it to Jonas. The man caught it, too surprised not to. "Until we make landfall again, sir, you shall work your passage and be paid for it. If you choose to remain with us afterwards you will draw a share from our mutual fortune and enjoy the hospitality of our galley and a hammock of your own."

Jonas thumbed the coin thoughtfully, bit it between his teeth and gave the Captain a long look. William had awoken something unexpected in him. Curiousity. He gave the Captain a quiet 'Aye-Aye' and allowed Mister Franklin to escort him out of the room.

Mister Lasseter raised his eyebrows to William and William answered this by raising his own and filling the Quartermaster's twice drained glass.

[Dorian Lasseter]

After taking a swallow from his freshened glass, Dorian spoke.

"Ye think th' lad'll stay?"

William looked into his own glass, then without looking up answered.

"Only time will tell..."

Dorian nodded slowly, then drained his glass. He stepped over and set the vessel on the corner of the table and picked up one of the coins he had deposited there not long ago. He turned it over in his hand, flipped it into the air and almost dropped it upon catching the gold disc. He hefted it and mentally calculated what could be bought for the coin.

"I have given Mr. Pew orders ta make ready th' Longboat once repairs r' completed ta see about recoverin' th' rest o' these beauties... Didn't think you'd object... unless ye have other notions..."

He continued to flip the coin over in his hand, watching the sunlight occasionally sparkle and glitter across the golden disc. It was easy to understand why men, greedy men, would do most anything to possess large quantities of these.

[William Brand]

July 20, 1704 - The Ward Room

William considered the matter at length before replying.

"If we leave the coin where it lies, then those who left the fishing boat here might return to discover it. This would bring unwanted attention to Los Hermanos. Also, some small meddlesome creatures might make off with some of it, so it cannot be left to the sea's whims. Besides, the men would never let it rest there, and we both know how quickly word will spread of this. No, it's best that we retrieve it at once."

Mister Lasseter nodded.

"Take three of your best swimmers when you go. An extra rum and a relief from the other labors of the day for each, and a coin to Mister Press prior to the dividing of shares for his delightful discovery."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye Cap'n... I think.... aye, all 'r best swimmers are already ashore, 'cept fer Tucker, an' he'll be ashore soon as I am... This coin shall be in Press' hand soon... I believe without any other happenstance, we shall retrieve all there is by nightfall..."

He nodded to the Captain and made his way out, pocketing the coin meant for Harold Press. Out into the waist and down the tumblehome he went, right back into the worn craft with the two men at the oars. He rested his hand on the tiller and smiled at Tucker.

"Well, Mister Tucker... You, Mister Press an' Mister Warren or Marchande will be havin' a swim this day..."

He looked at the QuarterMaster with a furrowed brow, then looked at Styles and back at Dorian. Before he could ask, Mr. Lasseter answered his question.

"Yer ta be divin' fer wot Mister Press found out at th' Apollo... gold, m'bouyo... gold coin.... Shove off and pull the oars fer shore now..."

Styles and Tucker's eyes got big as saucers and huge grins split their faces as they tugged hard on their oars.

"Now stand down there... no need ta run like a gale. Don't tire yerself out pullin' that oar. Plenty o' work in th' water ta tire out from. Nice even stroke there... tha's better...."

Mr. Lasseter steered the boat for the patch of shoreline they came from earlier and in good time the bow cut into the sand and out jumped the men, brought the boat up further on shore. The QuarterMaster jumped out and stumbled slightly, putting a hand on his left leg. He righted himself and trudged up the beach to the rest of the crew waiting there. Every one of them had a look on their face that they already knew about the gold from the Apollo, so he didn't bother to tell them what was to be done next.

"Mister Press... you, Tucker and either Marchande or th' Cox'n will be takin' turns out at th' wreck over th' side o' th' St. Kitts once she be seaworthy again. Miss Smith, yer ta be in th' sternsheets countin' and recordin' wot comes up, Johnson, n' Styles, yer in the Longboat as well... The rest o' ye will either stay here or head back ta th' ship under Mr. Pew... Keep an eye out til Rummy declairs th' boat seaworthy. "

He nodded and stepped over to Mr. Pew, dismissing the men to wait as they may until it was time. Much murmering insued.

"Mister Pew... A grande find indeed... I saw ye had some crates n' a firkin recovered from yer time on th' Apollo... Anything of interest?"

[Pew]

Scratching my head, trying to remember those small crates I had pitched before the ship came down around us.

"Not much Mister Lasseter. A few bits about needles and thread and such, some combs, a few tins of t'bacco, wasted o' course." I continue to dig through the crates looking for something else of value for the Watch Dog. "Jes, that and 'arold's coins.. There are several cannon that fell straight thru to tha bottom, under the wreck now o' course. Dunno ifin they be worth tha trouble ta recover...would make fer a nice trade elsewhere's.....clean -em up right, they'll ne'er know the difference..."

Putting my hands on my hips, I spied my satchel lying on the sand. I remembered the small box of scrimshaw pipes I had found. Saving those for later, I knelt and tried to rearrange the goods into more suitable crates.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill Flint stood upon the quarter deck enjoying a pipe before beginning his watch. He hadn't failed to notice Jonas McCormick being escorted from the cable tier, nor did the icy look the man gave him as he passed below escape him either. He was just about to return to his private thoughts when Nathan Bly materialized before him.

"Billy I just saw.."

"I know lad I know"

"What do ye make of it?"

"that be the Cap'n's business corporal"

"What should we do?"

"What should we do? We shall do nothing, I 've given my word that I'll not put a hand to him. If Cap'n Brand wishes to give that wharf rat the run of his ship then more power to him."

"But if he should intend harm to the crew?"

Bill took a pull of his pipe, his eyes never leaving the younger man's

slowly he exhaled.

"Then he'll be in hell five minutes before he knows he's dead."

[William Brand]

July 20, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eric Franklin brought Jonas before the Master Gunner. They found him in the armory where Mister Youngblood was giving instructions on the handling of powder to a few of the younger seamen who served as powder monkeys aboard ship. Most of them were familiar with such things, but prudence dictated that the Master Gunner remind them regularly of their duties. Repetition prevented accidents from happening.

With the arrival of the two men, Petee dismissed his class as Eric explained the Captain's wish that the recent prisoner should now be placed in a gunnery crew. Petee Youngblood did not try to hide his surprise, nor did he hide the fact that he didn't like the idea. Eric, relieved that the Captain had not assigned Jonas to the watches under his or Pew's charge, was empathetic to the misgivings of the Master Gunner, and Petee, recognizing the need for more trained men aboard ship, dismissed Eric with a nod.

Then he eyed Jonas up and down. The man was of an average height and build, and while he had an unfriendly aspect about him, his eyes showed intelligence which might prove good or bad for the gunnery crew.

"What know you of guns, Mister...?"

"McCormick." Jonas finished in a surly tone.

"Sah." Petee added.

"Sah." Jonas returned, then added. "I've 'andled bigger guns than these...sah."

"Have you?" Petee returned, and while the question was rhetorical, Jonas answered it anyway.

"Aye, sah. I'm good enough for these guns."

"I shall be the judge of that." The Master Gunner said, and he was not enjoying the subtle defiances of his latest charge. He gestured to the door and followed the man to the gun deck where he had the man show him the proper order for preparing, arming and then discharging a gun. All of this was pantomimed of course, for Petee had no intention of wasting powder or allowing an unknown to discharge any of his well kept guns.

The seventh bell of the Forenoon Watch came and went, and all the while Mister Youngblood noted the icy looks which visited Jonas from the Quarterdeck. After a time he also noted Mister Flint's pipe smoke drifting forward along the decks. This prompted an interruption in his examination of McCormick's skills.

"Mister Flint! There's no smoking abaft the mast! Get yourself forward or put out that pipe!"

Flint snapped off a quick apology, moving down and forward. Jonas smiled at Flint's expense and the cold front which passed between them did not go unnoticed by anyone on deck. They seemed to exchange quiet threats and predictions of violence as they passed and Mister Youngblood was mindful to cut Jonas off from his mirth.

"Again, Mister McCormick. From the beginning."

[William Brand]

July 20, 1704 - Los Hermanos

Between the seventh bell of Forenoon Watch and the seventh bell of First Watch

When the eighth bell of Forenoon Watch sounded, the watches changed out aboard the 'Dog. Resting at anchor, the frigate passed the rest of the day in routine. Watches changed out. Lookouts ascended and descended the rigging. The galley crew cooked and cleaned in revolutions. All was clockwork.

Jonas McCormick was forced into the cycle of life aboard the privateer vessel whether he liked it or not. He remained under the Master Gunner's eye the rest of the day, repeating the disciplines of arming and cleaning a great gun.

Murin McDonough waited out the Doctor's decision to release her to duty, but Tempest refused the request for the present, knowing that the injured hand of the newly appointed tailor wouldn't take to labor so soon.

Callie was not allowed the privilege of much rest, for Mister Lazarus kept her busy in the galley for most of the day as he tried to put up as much fish against the next outgoing voyage as he could.

Badger gave the deck over to Mister Morgan part way through the afternoon, and the Bosun's Mate remained on the quarterdeck late into the evening.

Eric Franklin invited Chanault to take his place among the watch after consulting with the Captain on the matter. William did not disagree and Chanault excepted the watch, allowing a tired Sergeant at Arms to retire.

As all of these things scenes played out aboard the Watch Dog, the shore party passed through their share of perils and duties.

The Master Carpenter finished her work almost to the minute of her predicted repairs, returning the cutter to duty in as good a condition as it had been before the mishap.

Dorian returned the cutter to service at once, making use of the damaged block and rigging of the Apollo, to run lines out to the remaining wreckage. With great effort, the shore party affixed the lines and pulleys to raise the Apollo's shattered timbers. Over several hours of difficult labor, they freed up three of the four cannons discovered my Mister Pew. Two four pounders made of iron and a beautiful six pounder made of brass were brought back to shore through the employment of many hands. More than once a line was lost and they were ever splicing them again to recover the three guns.

Mister Pew brought these cannon and his rescued items back to the Watch Dog in repeated voyages and when finished he immediately requested the pleasure of returning to shore to aid in the efforts there. William did not refuse him.

All the time they were engaged in the recovery of the cannon, the swimmers sent out by the Quartermaster returned old coins to the Ship's Steward as she tabulated the amount and the value of the gold. Then the amount reached 256 it was impossible for those ashore to keep their excitement to themselves. When the pile had reached 350, it became a distraction to the laborers employed in the salvage. By the time they had exhausted themselves and all efforts of finding more coin the final count had reached 479 coins all gathered in the evening sun. It was astonishing.

With every assurance that no more coin could be found, Dorian released the shore party from their duties for the space of an hour and those who had labored to bring coin and cannon ashore were allowed to collapse on the sun heated sand.

After some rest and no small amount of conversation, the last of the salvaged items returned to the Watch Dog with the cutter. The First and Second Dog Watch had come and gone by then and no man or woman from shore was made to return to their watches. Many of them ate and went below, no doubt to share what they had seen with their shipmates. This second discovered treasure, coming so quickly after the Ilex fortune, left many talking late into the night. William allowed an additional ration of rum to pass among the revelers, with a caution to any many assigned as a lookout.

Despite worn and tired hands, Rummy set the Berth deck to dancing with a lively tune which soon infected the weather decks. William made no effort to correct the liveliness of the crew. The lookouts were vigilant enough that a relaxed attitude did not threaten the frigate, for they were alone in the dark of a moonless night.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eighth bell of First Watch. Middle Watch Begins

The Watch Dog was alive with the possibilities of future and fortune. Everyone aboard enjoyed their share of rumination over their portions of the treasures now tucked safely aboard the frigate. Music played on even as the calendar rolled over to the next day with the ringing of the eighth bell.

With the start of the new calendar day, William gave the deck over to Mister Badger, who came on deck as the Middle Watch began. Most of the crew retired, having been too long awake, and though the conversations continued into the morning, the 'Dog was relatively quiet on the sea by itself.

They could not have known then, as they retired to their hammocks, that half way around the world, Admiral Rooke and Sir Cloudesley Shovell were about to capture Gibraltar.*

*footnote - The Capture of Gibraltar and the Treaty of Utrecht

An Anglo-Dutch force led by Sir George Rooke seized the Rock in 1704 on behalf of the Archduke Charles, pretender to the Spanish Throne. The territory was eventually ceded to Great Britain by Spain in the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht as part of the settlement of the War of the Spanish Succession. In that treaty, Spain ceded Great Britain "the full and entire propriety of the town and castle of Gibraltar, together with the port, fortifications, and forts thereunto belonging … for ever, without any exception or impediment whatsoever."

Nonetheless, the treaty stipulates that no overland trade between Gibraltar and Spain is to take place, except for emergency provisions in the case that Gibraltar is unable to be resupplied by sea. Another condition of the cession is that "no leave shall be given under any pretence whatsoever, either to Jews or Moors, to reside or have their dwellings in the said town of Gibraltar." This restriction was quickly ignored and for many years both Jews and Arabs have lived peacefully in Gibraltar. In a reversion clause, should the British Crown ever wish to relinquish Gibraltar, Spain was promised it will be offered to it first ("And in case it shall hereafter seem meet to the Crown of Great Britain to grant, sell or by any means to alienate therefrom the propriety of the said town of Gibraltar, it is hereby agreed and concluded that the preference of having the sale shall always be given to the Crown of Spain before any others").

As the UK and Spain are both members of the European Union, which is committed to free movement of goods and services, the UK government and Gibraltarians claim that this supersedes any 'restrictions' contemplated in 1704.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - The berth deck of the Watch Dog

First bell of Middle Watch

By the time Jonas McCormick reached his appointed place of sleep, he was quite tired. He found himself hanging between the towering, snoring Ajayi and the diminutive Jean Dorleac. The sleeping arrangements were of no surprise for McCormick had enjoyed his share of cramped quarters.

Owen Monahan fixed Jonas with a leery eye and Jonas returned the look as he hung his hammock.

"Cap'n must be desperate for men." Owen said over-loudly. Jonas said nothing.

"Stow it, Owen." Thatcher growled, not looking up from the game of backgammon that he and Roche were deeply involved in. Thatcher had become increasingly more obsessed with the game ever since Roche had beat him in ten games in a row. No one had ever beat him so many times.

"Beg pardon, Thatch." Owen said, careful to truncate Robert's name in such a way as to irk the man. "But this man 'ere was yesterday a prisoner."

Jonas smiled to know that it bothered Owen so much. He made a great show of taking out the gold coin and rolling it over his knuckles. More than a few men stood up and came close to see the coin.

"Where did you come by that?" Mister Smyth said with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Jonas let the question hang in the air for a long time, looking around from face to face. "Your captain has a full box of 'em."

Tucker didn't like seeing the gold in the man's hand. He was still suffering from his share of cuts and scrapes from gathering the gold off the reef, and to see it now in the hands of this new recruit bothered him. He shouldered his way between the crowding men. "Aye. The ship has a box full of 'em, but ye've not explained yet how it is that you have one."

Jonas pocketed the coin with a smile, but in truth he felt a little naked in this hold with so many crowding and unfriendly looks. He wished, no for the first time since coming aboard, that he had a sailor's knife or a cudgel. "It came from the Cap'n."

The crew exchanged looks.

Harold Press came down to fetch up a fid and needle to do some mending while on watch and found the men crowded about Jonas. Press cut a large figure as he stood between Jonas and the others. He gave Owen a stern look. Owen muttered something under his breath and went back to his place. The others drifted back as well, some of them shrugging off the coin, while others rubbed chins or scratched at imaginary itches, each man's mind on the gold and the Ilex fortune.

"Thank you, mate." Jonas said with an air of victory in his voice.

Harold turned part way around to look at the man. He fixed Jonas with a look that made him shrink a little.

"Cause trouble for the Captain and I'll bleed you." Harold said in a tone that was low and dangerous. Then he went and gathered his things, fixing Jonas with another look as he went out. Jonas decided it was in his best interest to sleep, whether he could or not.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - The Ward Room of the Watch Dog

Nigel Brisbane and Jacob Badger passed the night in conversation and checkers on the quarterdeck. They spoke at length of England, for both of them had been gone from there for some time. They laughed about the mutual places each of them had visited and the gossips of the English world.

Ciaran kept the watch aloft content to hum away the dark hours, sometimes pausing to exchange words with the other lookouts, but they soon fell into a silence, each to his or her own thoughts.

Patrick Hand kept the gundeck along with Constance and Miss Wardell. They revolved about the small deck where Harold Press mended the spare sail for the cutter.

And this is how the night passed, without incident, until the morning showed its bloom. Still the crew slept, preparing for the long day ashore at La Blanquilla where they would offload the extra supplies to caches on the island.

By the time William awoke, the morning watch was almost over. He dressed while the sixth bell sounded and by the seventh bell of Morning Watch, he and Dorian were dining in the Ward Room, joined by the Bosun, Coxswain, Master Gunner and Master at Arms. All of them spoke on subjects ranging from food to warfare and back again as Miss Smith went about the table like an inn hostess, humming as she served. William was about to inquire after her good mood when he noted her noting the strongboxes where their fortunes lay.

"Gentlemen. A toast. To fortunes gained and fortunes to come."

"Aye!" They mutually agreed, and Petee added, "May fortune favor the foolish."

William smiled and addressed the Master Gunner, "Mister Youngblood. I like the look of that new six pounder."

"As do I, Sah."

"I should like it to remain behind at La Blanquilla for our use there."

"Aye, Cap'n..." Petee said nodding, "She'll weather betta' than the iron guns."

"We can sell the four pounders off when we make port next." Mister Warren said, smiling, "Not that we shall be in great need of additional coin."

William smiled along with the rest of them. It was the first time that he didn't mind their small numbers. Had they been more, the treasure would not have seemed so great, but given the crew's small size it was more than generous.

"When we are finished here, I should like the crew assembled at the changing of the watch. We must put rumors to rest and let the crew know our minds."

Between seventh and eighth bell of Morning Watch

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Feeling much recovered, Nathan Bly sought to make his place amongst the crew. He wandered the weather deck lending a hand here and there, learning all he could about his new surroundings and fellows. He had saw Jonas McCormick amongst a gun crew and kept a half an eye on the man. Feeling that the proper place for a former Marine would be amongst the rigging he had learned that the man Ciaran was the one to see if he was interested in becoming a lookout. His ears also drank in the many rumors that floated about the ship, particularly those concerning the recently accquired treasure.

"Aye that new hand Flint were the first te 'ave at the box"

"Aye and with them burglar's skills 'oose te say he ain't squirreled away a few extra coin fer 'imself"

"Ah come off it now mate, ye know the Cap'n would'n stan fer that"

"Would'na stan fer it!? 'E's got a whole box o' dem coins fer isself, gave one o' 'em to that tar McCormick."

"Aye that 'e did, saw it meself ."

This was not safe talk, Nathan decided it best to bring this to the Quartermaster's attention. But before he could slip away....

"You there!," a voice boomed "Ain't you Flint's man?"

Uh oh, not good.........

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Just prior to eight bells of the Morning Watch

Manus Hingerty approached Nathan with an unhidden look of dislike, though what justification he had for such disdain, no one could say. Perhaps it was his added duties at the galley which were making him surly. Or perhaps it was the rumors he was privy to all day which he heard while serving out food to the watches as they came and went. Rumors aboard a ship are often enough to change the views and perspectives of the less educated and easily bored sailor, and sailors often make as many enemies as they do friends. Unexplainable hatreds spring up among men at sea, and given the limitation of gambling, entertainments and distractions, it isn't wholly strange.

Manus Hingerty had simply decided to not like Nathan.

"You're Flint's man." Hingerty said. Not a question now, but an accusation.

"I am no one's man, but I can count Bill Flint among my friends." Nathan explained, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

Hingery made a dismissive sound sound at this. Owen had joined Hingerty, which was not surprising given Owen's taste for stirring up trouble. Together they made a mismatched pair of unfriendly dogs.

"You an' Jonas as well, I'll wager." Hingerty continued.

Nathan's face darkened a little at the implication of being paired up with Jonas and he narrowed his eyes at Hingerty. Owen just smiled a little, grateful to find something that goaded the new sailor.

"Aye." Owen said, his smile widening, "You and Jonas and Flint. Royal Navies."

Nathan was unsure how to take this. He had believed that many aboard ship had previously served in the Royal Navy, and he wasn't wrong. Still, he didn't like hearing himself bound up with Jonas. He didn't like Owen much either. Owen bore all the signs of a smart man who prefers being disagreeable and stupid too much of the time. Owen was just clever enough to be tolerated by most, but he had a habit of pushing people a little too far.

"The Cap'n made your frien' Jonas part o' th' crew." Hingerty declared, stepping a bit closer to Nathan.

"That's the Cap'n's business." Nathan said, ignoring the word friend altogether.

Hingerty pressed on as if uninterrupted, "An' twas Flint that foun' th' box."

"Mister Lasseter found the box from what I hear." Nathan retorted.

Hingerty did not seem to like answers, especially good ones, coming from this young sailor. He stepped forward as though he intended to punctuate his accusations with a well placed fist or two, but Robert Thatcher had come up behind him.

"Leave 'im be, Manus." Robert ordered, though he held no real power over the man.

"Keep t' yourself, Thatch." Hingerty growled, never taking his eyes of Nathan. Owen smiled at this, for it was he that had first used this truncated version of Thatcher's name and he was glad to hear others using it.

"You're expected in the galley, aren't you, Manus." Robert inquired in an overly polite voice. It had the desired effect, for Hingerty turned to Robert at once, and looked as though he meant to make him regret being here. Hingerty did not like being interrupted. He stepped towards Robert, but Mister Pew had arrived from the Ward Room, and recognizing the signs of a disturbance in the making, he crossed to where the man were standing.

"What's all this?"

Hingerty straightened at once and Owen put away his smile.

"Nothing, Sah." Robert Thatcher said agreeably, grateful not to tangle with Hingerty. Not that Robert couldn't take the man. Robert had always been a 'scrapper', but he knew that punishments would be given out to both of them if they tangled on the ship. "We were discussing the treasure, Sah. It seems to be on everyone's mind."

"Aye." Mister Pew agreed, scrutinizing Owen and nodding very slowly. "Mind it doesn't interfere with your duties."

Not content that they would do so without encouragement, the Master-at-Arms stood there with his hands behind his back waiting for them to disperse. Hingerty couldn't help giving Thatcher a contemptible look as he went, and Owen, hat in hand, gave a simple 'Aye-Aye' and skulked away. Thatcher saluted the Master-at-Arms, gave Nathan the simplest of nods, which Nathan returned, and went about his duties.

Mister Pew recored all of this in his mind for later, knowing that no argument aboard a ship this small is too soon forgotten.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Nathan breathed a sigh of relief, he'd seen his share of fights but he had no desire to face down Hingerty, who easily outweighed him by several pounds and stood a good head taller than himself, especially when it was two against one. Turning back upon his course he found himself faced with the huge, crossed arms of his friend Bill Flint. The Redlegs beamed down at him with his usual smile.

"Can't seem to keep you out of trouble can we corporal?"

Nathan could never fathom how a man of Bill's size had ever learned to be so stealthy, but then again he'd practically been raised by The Mohawks. Nathan's adopted people however, The Tuscarora, were a costal people and had never found need, living as they did off The Sea's bounty, to posess the skills to stalk prey through the forrest. Flint's tone indicated he had been joking and not at all serious, but the altercatrion had left Bly in a foul mood.

"Devil take you William Flint."

The use of his given name brought him up sort. He fixed Nathan with an inquiring eye.

"What's all this?"

"I'm fine, leave me be."

"Have it your way mate."

Flint turned and headed towards the quarter deck, those in his path parting before him like the Red Sea to Moses. Nathan stewed on his thoughts. He'd been back on his feet less than a two days and he already had enemies among the crew. Three that he knew of off hand, and mayhaps a few more. This darkened his attitude further. He knew what would make him feel better. Spending a little time with that lovely Irish lass Murin. He felt himself inexplicably drawn to her and she filled many of his waking thoughts. A smile fixed upon his face, he headed below decks.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The WatchDog, off the coast of Los Hermanos Archipeligo

21 July 1704, Eight bells of the Morning watch

The QuarterMaster finished his meal and stood, adjusted his clothes and made his way onto the quarterdeck via the passage from the wardroom. As he emerged into the light of day he squinted some as his eyes adjusted. Walking to the break in the deck forward he leaned on the rail and cleared his throat rather noisily. He then stood tall and took in a deep breath and bellowed far louder than one thought possible.

"ALL HANDS ON DECK!!!! ALL HANDS REPORT TO THE WAIST!!! YOUR CAPTAIN SHALL BE ADDRESSIN' YOU SHORTLY!!! "

He then watched as the crew bustled about, looking like ants in an anthill that had been kicked over. Men came swarming out of the hatches, down from the rigging, from all areas of the ship. Some were bleary-eyed, some sharp-eyed. As the crowd became thicker a dull murmur floated through them. Mr. Lasseter looked down into the mass of sailors and all fell silent except the sounds of the ships rig. All eyes were turned up to the QuarterMaster as he stood by the rail. Slowly he nodded and turned to the hatch he had emerged from not minutes before.

"Cap'n.... Crew's assembl'd n' waitin'....."

[Silkie McDonough]

The music and dance last night was a welcome celebration of her new found freedom although she had not participated. She felt unsure of her place here on the Watch Dog so she limited herself to watching and listening and kept hidden in the shadows on deck. The night was young when she slipped silently into the surgery. Mooney and Bly had been released from the doctor’s care so she had the ward to herself. A knock at the ward door startled her before she was three steps from the entrance. Nathan Bly came to inquire why she had been hiding in the shadows and why in heavens name was she retiring so soon. She smiled sheepishly back at the man and mumbled something about not feeling part of the crew. That she was sure that most of the crew saw her as a passenger and figured she would soon be gone. Nathan understood, he was new on the Watch Dog and had yet to find his place onboard. The music and laughter continued outside while the two chatted into the night, somehow neither ever seemed to be at a loss for words when together.

As the night wore on, and the conversation fell into a comfortable silence the music slowed and Murin found herself wishing that they were on deck so Nathan could ask her to dance. He excused himself at the second bell of the middle watch and exited to the deck. She closed the door behind him, turned and leaned against the door smiling. When the next tune started she allowed herself to dance to her cot in the dark of the ward. It had been three long years since she had been allowed to enjoy life. The tune ended, she hugged herself, rolled over pulling the blanket to her chin and fell asleep listening to the crew’s serenade.

This morning Murin paced the length of the surgery ward feeling like a wild animal kept too long in a cage. She was to be the Sail maker/Tailor once her hand was up to the work but the surgeon would not release her to duty. Surely she could make herself useful somehow. She looked down at the chemise. “Not in this.” It was comfortable but not practical. The clothing that she had when she arrived on board had been laundered and left with her ‘belongings’. She donned what she had tucking the long shirt into the large breeches and using the length of rope to tie the waist again. She left the large boots where they lay. Again she walked to the port hole and gazed impatiently at the start of the day.

A knock at the door drew her back inside the ward and she let the porthole shut lightly. “Aye?” The door opened and Nathan entered his smile reflecting his surprise at her appearance in baggy shirt and too lorge breeches. “Tis nil wot a lady would wear but, wot lady would work on a ship as a privateer?” His eyes twinkled as he laughed with her. At that the ships bell rang the eighth bell of the morning watch. Within the next breath the Quartermasters voice was heard calling “all hands on deck”. Nathan offered Murin his arm. She lightly placed her hand on the offered forearm smiled and shook her head no. She was not a lady to be cared for any longer, she was soon to be an able bodied seaman and knew that she would need to prove her value among the others on board, even to Nathan.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Forenoon Watch begins

William took up his hat and then replaced it on the table. He went for his coat and decided against it. Instead, he went up upon the quarterdeck in nothing more formal than his waistcoat. He walked to the rail which looked down on the gundeck to the waiting crew assembled amidships.

"Gentlemen. Ladies. Good morning."

He received a resounding good morning from the crew, though some seemed undecided, waiting to hear what news should come to them before making a final judgment about the day.

"We, the crew of the Watch Dog, have seen our share of troubles and trials mixed equally with freedoms and rewards. It is of rewards now that I wish to speak, and to those of you which signed on at the beginning."

William paused here to take up his ledger. He read out the names of those who signed on prior to the gleaning of the Danzig, making note of those signed articles which specified the shares and how they were to be divided. Each officer, mate and able seaman nodded as he or she was reminded of their respective shares. Once this reminder was well absorbed by the crew, William read the tally from the sale of goods taken from the Danzig Trader.

"Of the goods sold from the Danzig, only the bales of cloth rescued intact were of significant value. The other barrels of goods, including: nails, combs, iron materials, and other sundries were traded at a fair value for new sail, additional spar, flour, rum, salt, sugar, vinegar and other ship necessities."

William paused here for effect, pretending to check his figures, which he had already confirmed at least two dozen times since the sale of goods.

"Those fortunate forty of you which were present when the Danzig was rescued shall have twelve pounds, two shillings and 10 pence per share."

A swift reaction of murmurs and whispers ran through the crew which quickly compounded into a roar of exclamations, cheers and not a little bit of profanity; some of it blasphemous. They were understandably exulted, considering that a single share was now more than an able seaman would make in a year with the Royal Navy, and every lowly seaman aboard had four shares a piece. Fours years of pay in a moment.

Many crew members who had seemed hesitant before, could now not contain themselves. Luigi and Robert Thatcher clasped hands together and begin a dance in the middle of the crowd.

Of course, there were some that were not so joyous. Eight members of the crew had not been apart of the Danzig Trader discovery and were therefore not entitled to a share. Some of them tried to demonstrate enthusiasm for their comrades, but not all. Still, crew members like Mister Gage and Meg Wardell, who had been rescued from the sea and given place aboard ship were content enough to be alive and they waited patiently for the division of the other fortunes.

William raised a quieting hand.

"The Ilex Fortune is more problematic. Much of the fortune is tied up in deeds and in stone and gold. These must be sold at market for what coin may be made from them. However, there is some coin that can now to be divided into shares for all but two of you, each share comprising eight shillings and six pence."

The reaction from the crew was much smaller this time. Each crew member pausing to do the calculations of this lesser share. It worked out comfortably to two months wages in the Royal Navy and small appreciative nods passed among the able seamen.

"Of course, " William continued, "The other gold and stones will fetch considerably more for us once we reach Martinique."

What followed next was a cheer equal to the first, not because the promise of more gold moved them much, but the promise of landfall at Martinique. Here a sailor might spend four year's wages in four weeks, and regret nothing. Their tongues wagged at once and more than a few of them took to laughing or shouting until William raised his hand again.

"And now we come to the Apollo."

The crew quieted at once. For in their elation at the first sums, many of them had forgotten the last fortune.

"With this new found fortune, each of us has found ourselves well placed and well paid. Fortune has been good to us of late and because of this I should like to divide the Apollo fortune not by shares, but by equal portions among all aboard. The gold, discovered by chance alone, should be shared by chance equally, and while this means some of us will have less by dividing it thus, most of you shall have a little more."

Some of them didn't understand how this worked out until those standing next to them explained the gain. Divided into shares, each able seaman might make roughly eighteen pounds and six shillings, but divided into equal portions for all, than the able seaman would make twenty pounds, eight shillings and five pence.

Some of the officers recognized that they stood to get a lot less of the Apollo's gold in this fashion, but in the face of their shares in the Danzig sale, none of them was too troubled by this. Each of them also recognized that any boon to the laborers aboard ship was a boon to all. This also allowed the newer crew members to gain more and no one could object, seeing as how they themselves had gained so much.

"The Apollo gold shall be divided presently. All other shares to be given out prior t the landing at Martinique. However, given the opportunity to buy goods there, we shall be caching a large quantity of our stores at La Blanquilla against the winter." Of course, by 'winter' William meant any famine of profit or long term spell without gain. It was a frugal move not always taken by privateers, but William had known his share of dry spells and he meant to provide for himself and the others.

"What say you?"

This time they were all in agreement and everyone was satisfied that it was a good morning indeed.

"Then it is agreed, but one more amendment. I should like to take the five pence allotted to each man and woman's share and give this small taxed sum to Mister Press for finding the Apollo gold. In this way he gains a reward of one pound for making all of us twenty pounds wealthier."

There was no decent in the vote and Harold Press beamed at the addition to his already wealthy purse. Then William closed the ledger with a loud pop, dropping his hands behind his back.

"RETIRING WATCH TO FORM A LINE AND RECEIVE THEIR PORTION OF APOLLO GOLD! STANDING WATCH TO THE WINDLASS! MISTER BADGER! PREPARE TO WEIGH ANCHOR!"

[Pew]

Hearing the Captain expound the fortunes upon the crew, several members danced their own jig as notes from a flute wafted across the deck of the Watch Dog.

"'Tis a fine way ta start off, eh Eric?" Slapping the sergeant-at-arms on the back, a wide grin forms upon Eric Franklin's face.

"Aye, 'tis. Now about Martinique..." Laughing, Eric and I begin to plan our time ashore at the island. "First one down, buys the next" he bellows.

"I'll get in on that" Harold Press exclaims...

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the Captain gave his command, the crew responded with a hearty cheer and those on duty almost ran to their tasks. Those not on duty bustled about, forming a rough line that twisted across the deck, ending in a turn at the forecastle.

The QuarterMaster nodded to the Captain,

"I s'pose I best get ta sortin'.... "

He smiled and headed down the stairs into the waist, catching the arm of the Master-at-Arms...

"Pew... care ta be guardin' th' door ta th' wardroom... I need someone ta be sure each man takes 'is turn... I'll be hard pressed all by meself..."

He nodded his assent and followed Mr. Lasseter in throught the door at the break in the quarter and down the passage to the wardroom. He stopped just outside as the QuarterMaster continued aft. The Wardroom table had been transformed from a smooth surface used to dine and scribe documents on to a terrain of piled coins. Dorian walked around the table, noted that one ledger held the master's place. He opened it and read down the list of names of all the present crew. Heading over to a sideboard, he sellected a quill and an inkpot from a drawer then headed to his place at the table. He primed the quill and looked up.

"Mr. Pew..... Send the first man in!"

[Pew]

"AYE SAH!!"

Turning back to the throng gathered in the waist, I point first at Mauriche Roche, and then to Mr.'s Tucker, Brisbane, and Styles.

"You four, come aft an' wait for the Quartermaster's call. Mr. Franklin 'ere 'll let ye in. One at a time now gents, plenty for all..." Each of the men jostle to come forward first towards the Ward room door. Eric Franklin puts his hand up and the group stops abruptly.

"Maurice, first" he states directly.

I go about the crowd and put the crew into small groups so as not to have the deck littered about with all hands. One by one the crew enter, and return with eyes as large as cannon shot. Cheers continue to erupt from the deck as each members riches go on display as they finger through their coins on deck.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the numbers dwindled, so did the stacks of coin on the table, each man had made his mark next to his name, denoting that he had recieved his share. Soon all those who were off duty had been dealt with, the table now half as much with coin. The QuarterMaster closed the ledger and stood, stretching his legs. He walked to the door and gave Eric Franklin a look over...

"A'right lad... yer ta stand guard til thems that's on duty is off, so I c'n give out their fair share..."

Eric saluted him and stood hard fast. Dorian shut the door and made his way aft to the scuttle up onto the quarterdeck where he came out into the fresh air, stepped over to the Captain.

"Cap'n... all off duty crew have been given their shares... Mister Franklin is guardin' th' ward room.... Anything more you'd have in mind for th' moment?"

[William Brand]

"Have Mister Badger bring us about and set the boat crews to lower away once we arrive at La Blanquilla. You and I should then retire to the Ward Room and choose a location for the caches."

"Aye, Cap'n."

"And have Mister Lazarus make a report of the larder, so we know which stores may be left behind."

William watched a few remaining men of the previous watch go down into the noise below decks.

"Please remind the crew that no gambling shall be allowed until we make landfall. I'll not have a knife fight aboard ship."

[Pew]

Returning to Eric, he reports the amounts have been paid and he is not to leave his post until Mister Lasseter or the Captain himself return to the Ward Room.

"Very well then, mate. Meet in tha armoury by tha turn of tha glass and we shall make note of tha arms b'fore we reach Martinique. 'ave each man on watch return their arms for fresh ones, we shall note those 's well."

Eric nods as we clasp hands, "Martinique shall be leave well spent."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye-aye"

Mr. Lasseter nodded and headed forward. He still carried his sea service pistol and sword, having relinquished the dragoons to the wardroom table for comfort. He made his way across the waist, catching bits of conversation and commenting jovially to several of the crew, interjecting the 'no gambling' rules here and there. He went into the forecastle, continuing to chat and interject conversation as he went, all through the crew's berthing areas of the ship. He came topside and headed to the Galley, spoke with Mr. Gage about the supplies in the larder, to which he would have a list brought to the wardroom as soon as he could.

The QuarterMaster then headed to his quarters, shut his door and proceeded to unlock his seachest. He dug deep within and came out with a small box of dark wood. He opened the hasp and slowly lifted the lid revealing a leather pouch and a folded parchment. Removing the pouch, he empties the contents into his hand, then counts out the coins on his desk.

"Five pounds, four shillin's an' seven pence... you lads 'r about ta get plenty o' company... "

He shuffled the coins back into the pouch, then took out the parchment, opened it and smoothed it on the desk... The fancy writing looked back at him and the gilt coat-of-arms was faded, but it still made him smile... He stared at it for a moment longer then folded it back up and put it all away. He locked his chest, turned to the locked iron bound box inthe corner, withdrew a second key and unlocked it. Inside was another pile of coins that he withdrew and counted on his desk.

"Thirty pounds seven shillin'... not much ta keep this ship afloat.... But, more on th' way...."

Again all coin is redeposited into the box, the lock turned and the key returned to safe keeping. Dorian stood, scratched his head and sighed, then headed back out into the floating world he called home...