The Watch Dog

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin stood chatting with Nathan while the off duty crew members were taken in small groups below deck. As Mister Pew Came towards the two of them she stepped back so that those who were to collect their share could easily pass by. When Mister Pew pointed directly at her as one of the next group she was not sure what to say. "Tank ya Mista Pew buot I've nil been on d'crew more den a day."

"You are on the roster, you get your share" Murin stood as if frozen, her maw agape.

Nathan's smile broadened his dark eyes danced at her surprise and he laughed out loud. "Lass you're part of the crew now accept it" Pew smiled, lifted an eyebrow and continued to choose the others to advance to the ward room.

Once in the ward room and standing in front of Mister Lasseter Murin felt small and unsure again.

"Name"

"MEER-een Micdunna"

Mister Lasseter looked up from his books, a friendly smile on his face. "Aye lass. Heard ya signed on as our new sail maker and tailor. A fortuitous find ye were."

She smiled weakly. "Twas certainly so fer mae"

Mister Lasseter's smile broadened as he looked back at his books counted out her share and slid the coin across the table to her. She looked at the stacks of coin that had been passed to her, a fortune really. Never had she thought to have the opportunity to own so much wealth. She felt as though she should object that there had been a mistake but such a mistake would not have gone unchecked. "Tank ya."

Mister Lasseter then asked her to make her mark, this she would gladly do. Her time spent with the Mistress Hodge had been well spent. Not simply for the company but for the knowledge and skills she had accumulated over the nearly two years. Murin accepted the quill from the man and signed her name. It was not a pretty signature, she was not well practiced at it but she knew her letters and knew which ones to use for her name ...HER name, the only thing she truly owned until this moment. When finished with the scribble she returned the quill to a startled Quartermaster deposited part of her allotment of coins into her injured hand and carried what remained with the other since she had no pouch.

She offered a curtsy to the Quartermaster and turned to leave but the coins that she had perched in her left hand spilled to the floor before she reached the door rolling in every direction. Had she not been facing opposite him the officer would have seen the shades of scarlet change on her face. She gasped at her clumsiness and dropped to her knees to gather the scattered coins. She pulled out the front tail of her shirt and made a cradle to place the coins in and began depositing the scattered coins there. She was too embarrassed to try to count what she barely felt entitled to in the first place to check that they had all been accounted for. Once she had what she could find Mister Lasseter helped her to her feet and deposited the coins he had gathered into her shirt tail with the others. She could not tell if she read sympathy or amusement in his gaze, again she blushed. "Tank ya surr." She curtsied again, opened the door and made her exit.

Once outside the door Mister Franklin smiled at her and Nathan grinned broadly as each deposited a few more coins into her shirt tail. "Rolled under the door." Nathan winked.

She rolled her eyes and began to laugh. What else was there to do? In two days she had found freedom, a home, kindred spirits, and amassed more wealth than she ever imagined. Her laughter was a sound she had long forgotten the sound made her laugh all the harder. Nathan joined in and they continued to laugh and jibe at each other until they reached the surgery ward door. Murin's 'quarters' for now.

"I've need uv sometin t'carry deeze in." She lifted her shirt tail causing the coins to jingle.

The two entered the surgery. The surgeons mate was about his work and looked to the door as the two entered. "Mon-shure Sahn-alt" Murin greeted him with a smile. "I have coin in my purse," she again jingled the coin in her shirt and giggled, "I would be honored ifin yed let me buy you drynk uv yer choice once in Martinique." Neither Nathan nor Chanault seemed to have a reaction to this invitation save to share a glance. Murin rolled her eyes and laughed again as she deposited her fortune next to her belongings. "Gentlemen, ya seem to b'fergetten, I am now a crew member and not a lady t'b'waited on. I share in yer forchins n'misforchins and I simply wish to show m'graditude t'd'good doctor fer services rendered.

Chanault nodded his head towards the lass and answered in the thick accent of his native tongue. "It would be my pleasure."

Murin moved her belongings aside until she reached the tattered shirt that lay beneath. "Natan lad, would ya b'so kind as t' tear me a square from dis'er shirt. Enuf t'tie m'coin in and then tie t'mae belt?" indicating the rope that now held her pants at her hips. She snickered at her own joke. Nathan obliged but tore two squares feeling a double layer would be needed for the weight, and soon the makeshift pouch was hanging from her 'belt' dangling nearly to her knee. "Dars got t'b' a betta way." With her permission Nathan removed the sword and sheath from the belt and secured that around the lass' waist then attached the new 'pouch' securely to the belt. As an extra precaution Murin moved the makeshift pouch to her side, flipped it over the belt and into the breeches. She jingled a bit when she walked, the weight was somewhat uncomfortable and the bulk bothersome but until she had a better solution this would do.

"Now lad,” She looked to Nathan, "shall we join d'oters?"

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William joined his share of the Apollo gold to the modest strongbox which housed his personal items. Among his small fortune lay the Spanish and French letters of Marque, along with a few other documents he kept about for their personal value.

Mister Lasseter returned from his respective duties and the two men sat down to discuss the caches that would be made on La Blanquilla.

The island charts were perused for the most suitable location to be found well above the high tide mark. These included some natural formations such as caves and hollows among the rocks. Many sites were discussed and then rejected for locations offering better shelter. Once three locations were chosen, they delved into those goods aboard that would last any rain and wind that might pass over the island in their absence. Rum, fresh water stores, iron nails, timber and some food stores were to go ashore there to be left for their use when they were this way next.

They were interrupted only once during this deliberation by the ship's cook, who brought his list of supplies for their examination. They each complimented him in turn for his recent fare and for his considerable effort to offer them variety while remaining frugal in his use of stores.

Lazarus seemed humbled and appreciative of their words and took the time to thank them for his shares in the Ilex Fortune and Apollo gold respectively before returning again to the galley.

When all of this was accomplished, they returned to the quarterdeck to find the Watch Dog making good speed across the sea between Los Hermanos and La Blanquilla.

[Pew]

Eric slowly opened the door to the armoury. A double ration of rum in his tankard greated him as he passed through.

With an eyebrow raised, his look questioned to reward offered.

"'Tis been a long few days mate. Many words 'ave come 'cross me ears 'bout tha ways you 'ad yourself 'bout the ship in tha stead of the 'Dog's Masters."

"Thankee Mr. Pew, I...."

"Preston." I replied, cutting him short and offering my hand once again. "Preston is my given name. Pew is jus' easier than saying me 'ole name. I mus' warn though, you be tha only ta know aboard." I wink at him as he sits on the small stool, filling the cabin with his stature. He smiles and takes a pull from his tankard.

"About 20 years ago, 'twas fortunate enough to sail under tha direction of Captain John Cook of tha Virginia Cooks.

In April of 1683, we 'ad arrived in tha Chesapeake wit two prizes captured in tha West Indies. One, a French merchant ship filled wit fine wines 'ad been taken only shortly before off tha Isle of Vacca. That made for an easy late spring of resupplying our Revenge for the summer and what it may bring. Wit tha Captain knowing of my being raised in those waters, I was lucky enough to be raised to tha postion o' Cox'un for Captain Cook."

I rose and pulled a small bottle from the desk in the armoury. Removing the cork I refilled Eric's tankard and took a long swig from the bottle.

"Tha mid-waters o' tha Chesapeake are wide, yet treacherously shallow."

"...like your meeting o' tha reef an' Mister Lasseters longboat, eh Preston?"

Laughing, I shake my head, "Not quite smartarse. Tha bottom there 'tis a muck that'll keep ya stuck fer days. Nary a war-o-war would be caught there, unless you knew your way in an abouts the shallows and knew tha tides. We 'ad decided that that was tha best time to outfit tha better of our two prizes, a vessel o' eighteen guns.

Tha Revenge was docked at Kent Island which was still in tha throws of land parcel battles wit Lord Baltimore and a Mister Claiborne from the Virginia Colonies. Tha Revenge, dubbed as such after Captian Cook's first command was sunk by a French Warship, was truly one of tha most fleet-a-foot ships especially after we 'ad outfitted her from our two catches. "

I took another pull form the bottle and topped off Eric's tankard.

"By then 'twas mid-summer and tha trade upon tha great bay was greatly invested in tha fortunes o' tobacco farmers. An easy parley for us being as how many of tha skiffs and sloops upon the Bay were outfitted wit maybe two ta three cannon and a swivel gun or two.

Many others fell prey ta our party that fall, to which I had been paid a king's ransom for my stay with the good Captain Cook.

By 1685, our Captain had given us a successful score of raids, seizures and I decided to retire for a bit. I 'ad gotten word tha me grandfather had taken ill o'er tha winter so I went back ta 'is farm for several years."

Eric learned forward with his elbows on his kness. "How in tha 'ell did you come to 'board tha Dog then?"

"After he 'ad passed I joined several merchant traders I 'ad befriended trading up and down tha coast. One of those trips 'ad put me ashore right when the Monsignor was lookin' for a crew ta run tha Dog. I nearly missed tha trip, 'course the night before and the Vicar's daughter an' all..."

Eric's erupts in laughter and nearly topples over the stool. "Right, Preston. Hope we don't miss the trip from Martinique. We may need ta take leave opposite each other. Or we'll both wind up missing......"

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Watch Dog

21 July 1704, fourth bell of the forenoon watch

La Blanquilla lay two points off the larboard bow as they continued to close the distance, the wind a fine breeze pushing them along at a fair clip. The stark white beaches contrasting with the azure of the water and the scrub grass and cactus inland. The QuarterMaster peered through his glass and swept across the island, pausing on occasion to note certain land formations or other points of interest. These he stowed in his memory for reference at a later time. The crew were in a fine mood, and went about their work happily, the ships boats all ready to be rigged to go over the side, the main hatch open to the fresh air and stores marked as to what would stay and what would be taken ashore. Mr Youngblood stood in the waist with two of his gun captains, all polishing and making fine the brass cannon rescued from the Apollo wreck.

Soon they would heave to and drop anchor, and the behive of activity would commence. All hands would be engaged in the matter of transfering boats and supplies over the side. And once all was deemed satisfactory, they would depart their Island Nation to sail across the expanse to the island of Martinique, where more adventures and pitfalls would await... Mr. Lasseter thought on this for a moment, thinking what might be needed for the ship, then to personal needs or wants... He had not owned a coat in three years, the black coat and knee britches aside, his only outer garments were an old plaid cloak and his wesket. Maybe it was time to change that...

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - The Watch Dog

Nearing La Blanquilla at five bells of the Forenoon Watch

The deck was awash with men and women about their many duties, all the same as before, but for the difference of their new found mood and the gold which fueled their imaginations.

William and Mister Morgan shared a rum ration on the forecastle deck, talking at length of Colchester and London, two towns which William never thought to see again in his lifetime, unless it was to be a very short lifetime once he touched those shores. Morgan showed a great fondness for the place and William wondered, not for the first time, how many of the crew would be enemies of England before year's end. Their fraternization with the French and Spanish was not the best way to maintain agreeable terms with the English.

Miss Smith arrived at the Captain's elbow with a polite cough.

"Beg pardon, Cap'n, but I found an unclaimed coin on the Ward Room floor."

William raised both eyebrows. "And you did not keep it?", he said, smiling as he both complimented her for her honesty and chided her in jest for not maintaining the misplaced treasure.

"Steal one, lose many." she returned.

"Aye. See the coin to Mister Lasseter. He'll find the parent of that fair orphan."

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

After five bells of the Forenoon Watch

Ajayi and Patrick Hand knelt side by side, scrubbing the gun deck. Patrick whiled away the time talking. He had a knack for talking, and even Ajayi, who could only catch a few words at best, seemed as good an audience for Patrick's many tales as anyone. Patrick was in the midst of regaling him with a story about the Carolinas, and in truth, Ajayi didn't mind, for he recognized the need to hear this new language often. It would never come to him fully unless he was immersed in it night and day.

Marchande and Smyth joined them on the deck for the ship's daily maintenance, and after a time, nearly half of the crew was at the task of scrubbing. Before long a song went up about Spanish gold and French liquor. Each time the chorus came around the volume went up. It was a bawdy piece, but even the women aboard joined the singers. Moral was high. A little work remained to do before Martinique, but already the spending on other shores had begun.

Ajayi took all this in from his place among the laborers. Song was something he understood, and even fortune to a degree, but the variation of the languages and personalities was a lot to absorb. He wondered many times during the morning how he might ever understand this 'English' when it visited his ears in so many forms.

Still, when the chorus came around, even he parroted the words sung by all of the others.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The QuarterMaster continued his investigation of La Blanquilla through his 'glass until the ringing of the sixth bell of the watch. He then collapsed the instrument and placed it in its respective place in the binnacle, pulled out the ledger within and penned in some notes. Shutting the book once the ink was sufficiently dry, he returned it to its nook. He stood and listened to the crew sing while laboring and this brought a smile to his face.

"Mister Badger, I'll be b'low fer a moment 'r two... ye know where th' Cap'n wishes ta lay th'anchor..."

"Aye-aye, Sah!"

Mr. Lasseter nodded and headed through the aft scuttle down into the wardroom. He looked at the piles of remaining shares and slowly shook his head.

"A kings ransom still.... I fear fer those in Martinique tha will be visited upon by th' crew..."

He chuckled at his words and slowly shook his head. Walking to the head of the table he retrieved his dragoon pistols. he cradled them in his left arm and headed foreward, knocked on the door to alert the guard, then opened the door, passed through and shut it behind him. Entering his quarters he sat at his desk, opened the lower drawer and placed the pistols within. He sat back in the chair and crossed his arms, then remembered the wound on his left shoulder. He had almost forgotten it with all the other activity going on. Rolling up his sleeve, he gingerly pulled up the edge of the bandage, peering at the healing wound in the low light. it felt fine, and didn't smell of anything but the linament that had been applied the day before. releasing the cloth he rolled his shirtsleeve down and buttoned the cuff. The sounds of the jovial crew again brought a smile to his face and he even hummed along for a verse. Deciding he had wasted enough time below and not wanting to miss the beginnings of the ship to shore work, he stood, pushed the chair under the desk and exited into the passageway. Hearing some voices from the Surgery ward, he stopped, just in time to not be run into by Murin and Nathan.

"Goode day to ye both... Please, continue..."

He held out his hand, giving them right of way out into the waist. Nathan Knuckled his forelock and Murin curtsied before they headed out into the light. Dorian stood for a moment and nodded, wondering what next would occur. Shrugging, he head out and made his way back up on the Quarterdeck, Nodded to Mr. Badger in aknowldgement that he had the deck again.

[Pew]

Young Mister Godfrey had just finished sifting the powders and was on his way topside.

"Sumthin' for you sahs?" he asked in his boyish yet respectful nature. "I 's 'eadin' topside.."

"Thankee Mister Godfrey, ifin ye'd be so kind as to ask tha Captain and Mister Lasseter for an audience, I' like ta speak wit them 'fore we reach port," I requested from the young boy.

With a quick nod and a knuckle to his forehead, the young boy scampered up the ladder stairs to find said officers.

"Problem?" Eric asked quizzically as he drained the remnants from the tankard.

Turning around I pulled open my satchel and removed the large tin from it's placement. With a quick "pop!" the lid pulled loose from it's mooring revealing two intricately carved tobacco pipes.

"I'd say not," he replied, answering his own question. "where'd ya find those? Meerschaum pipes eh?"

"I found them 'board the Apollo. Meer..Meerschaum?"

"Aye, Preston. Me ole Captain 'ad one 'imself."

"Aye, thought tha Cap'n and Quartermaster might like ta 'ave a little sumthin when they go ashore. Like royalty eh?"

Laughing, Eric shakes his head and pours from our dwindling bottle.

[Dorian Lasseter]

As the sea slid by under the keel, Mr. Lasseter was a happy man. The view foreward from the quarterdeck was grande, all the men and women at work and at leasure, all with smiles on their faces and light talk on their lips. The sails held taut in the fine breeze, all were trimmed well and not one edge luft. Dorian spied the Captain on the forecastle leasurely talking with some of the crew, this was a good thing as it was a good captain who could both be an officer to give orders, and a man to stand next to his fellow man.

"Mister Badger, shorten sail.... we're soon ta drop anchor, an' there be some shortenin' of the bottom soon... "

"Aye, Sah!"

Mr. Badger turned and shouted into the waist the orders as commanded, a gaggle of men lept into the shrouds and soon the sails were reefed in, the ships foreward progress slowed by almost half.

As the QuarterMaster slid his sharp eyes about the rigging and deck, he noticed one of the young powdermonkeys come up on deck, he shaded his eyes and squinted in the harsh light of day. He looked about in this fashion, looked up at the quarter and smiled when he saw Mr. Lasseter. He climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and stopped several paces infront of the QuarterMaster.

"Mister Lasseter, sir.... Master-at-Arms would like an audiance wi' you an' th' Captain... Would you know where the captain is?"

Dorian's eyebrows slowly went up.

"An Audiance... Cap'n's up in th' bow, on th' Fo'c'sl..... I'll wait fer wot Cap'n has ta say..."

"Thankee Mister Lasseter!"

The young lad knuckled his forelock and scampered foreward.

"An 'audiance'..... where'd 'e get all th' formalities as of late?"

Dorian said to noone in particular. He clasped his hands behind his back and stood, rolling with the gentle rocking of the ship as she plied through the azure water...

[William Brand]

Patrick Godfrey made his way forward, wending his way among the many sailors at work. When he arrived before the Captain, he was forced to clear his throat twice before being acknowledged. William turned from Morgan to Godfrey, acknowledging him with a raised brow.

"Th' Master-atArms would like an audience wi' you in th' Armoury, Captain."

William nodded, "Very well. Tell him I shall arrive presently."

Godfrey ran off at once and William drained the last of his cup before making his way aft. He was joined by a grinning Quartermaster, and William again raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Dorian fell in behind him and they went down the companionway. They arrived together to find the Master-at-Arms and Sergeant-at-Arms conversing over a small box.

[Pew]

Eric and I rose when the ship's officers entered the Ward Room.

"Cap'n, Mister Lasseter." I nodded and Eric stepped to the side so that the two men could sit at the table.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Now I know tha' in any event we may find any plunder all shall be divided by shares an' so forth..."

The Captain immediately raised an eyebrow, and clasped his hands under his chin as he rested his elbows on the large table, "Aye, continue Mister Pew."

"Welp, as I was aboard tha Apollo an' all, I found this small tin." Eric places the rusted but intact metal box in front of the ship's officers. "I wasn't sure wha' it was...." The Captain took the box in his hand an spun it about slowly examining it.

"Looks like a tobacco box Mister Pew," the ship's Quartermaster stated unemphatically.

"Aye sah, I though so as well," grabbing the box from the captain's hands, a general look of displeasure began to creep onto his face. "Sorry, sah, if I could just..." POP! went the lid on the box. I removed the two pipes carefully from their case and gave one to each of the men. "Captain Brand, Mister Lasseter."

Both men examined the pipes carefully. "Meer, Meers..." I tried to pronounce.

"Meerschaum, Prest...err..Mister Pew. My Captain once had one 'imself" explained Eric.

"Aye," I agreed as I spun back to the Captain and the Quartermaster. "I figgered that you sahs might like a wee diversion aboard. And now that we be 'eadin' ashore ye'll look right like royalty strolling through Martinique." I took a dramatic bow towards the men as Eric crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

[William Brand]

A slow smile spread across William's face. He wasn't sure what to say at first, for his was a mixture of very old memories and one reservation.

In truth, William owned a very plain pipe. He kept it with his luggage and it saw little or no use. William himself almost never smoked, reserving the act for more courtly appearances. It was a social affectation that he called upon once in a blue moon. It had proved to be such an oddity in his youth that the Janissaries had taken to calling him Dumansýz Alev. Smokeless fire. His red hair, much brighter in his youth, had lent itself to this friendly bit of ribbing on their part, for while all other Ottomans sat about in a fog of Tobacco fumes, William would sit close by, untouched by any additional atmosphere.

Still, the Meerschaum was well made, and as an intricate piece of work, William found it most favorable. He also didn't have the heart to refuse a gift that defied the articles of the ship as much the conventions of his own lifestyle. It was too genuinely offered, and he was twice reminded of life among the Ottomans, for gifts genuinely given were never refused in the East.

William set the pipe between his teeth almost at the same moment that Dorian hefted his. William could see that the Quartermaster found it very much to his liking, but even he bore a tinge of something that might have been reservation.

"I like it very much." William said around the pipe set between his teeth. "How does it sit?"

"It looks very good, Sah." Eric offered, and Mister Pew nodded appreciatively.

Dorian, being both a man of ledgers and a man of tact, hesitated to say aught, but the smile on his face was genuine. He liked the pipe very much and he puzzled over a way to maintain it without taking even the smallest plunder from the others.

William presented the solution, by quoting from the articles aloud.

"Every person aboard to be called fairly in turn, by list, on board of prizes for the replacement articles and arms."

A wide smile spread across the Quartermaster's face. "We are at th' top of th' list."

"Aye." William said nodding, as Dorian too placed his pipe in his teeth.

"Thank you, Mister Pew. The gift is a grand one."

[Silkie McDonough]

...

[Silkie McDonough]

As they headed onto the main deck Murin had nearly run into the Quartermaster who politely acknowledged them. She offered a polite curtsy and quickly removed herself from the officers path. Nathan and Mister Lasseter made eye contact sharing the same silent question then Nathan knuckled his forehead and awkwardly followed the lass.

Once the two were at the rail and could not be overheard Nathan quietly asked. "Murin, why did you not stop to speak with the Quartermaster? I am sure that you would have much to talk about both being Celts"

The lass stared at him blankly. "He's n'offcer, he's nil d'time fer d'likes of mae. Twas pleased det he took time t'exchange greetins wit'us." Nathan smiled sympathetically and gently tucked a stray curl that had swept across the soft blush of her cheek behind her ear. "You think too little of yourself lass. You are, as you yourself were quick to point out only moments ago, a member of this crew. Mister Lasseter is the officer that you must make your needs known to. He is the man who distributes rations, powder, work, prize and punishment. He is the person who will see that you have the equipment and supplies to do your work, and rest and relaxation as needed. Mostly, he is a good man, a fair man ...a friendly man" Nathan winked at her and smiled. She sheepishly looked to the floor and said nothing.

Nathan let her wade through her thoughts for only a moment. "Murin." he paused until she looked up at him, her eyes a dry moss color in the bright sunlight. Looking around the deck he said, "Look at the members of this crew, really look." Begrudgingly she began to scan the deck. A powder monkey sat straddling the cannon nearby as he cleaned it. The men in the crows nest on watch joined the song with those below. The Moore scrubbing the deck side by side with the other women and men of the crew. The French man, Chanault gazed sedately over the waters as a cat who tastes the air in anticipation of it's next adventure. Captain Brand, dignified and strong as he departed the forecastle deck. After Nathan was sure the lass had complied and noted the crew he continued, "There is not one among us that is lesser than the other. Each has their own set of skills, their own background and their own reason for being here but all are equal in worth on this ship. You, lovely lady, are no exception." His sincerity could be seen clearly in his eyes and Murin was grateful for his support. He was right, she knew it, deep down she had once believed it. Today she would make herself accept that reality again.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Thank you, Mister Pew.  The gift is a grand one."

"Aye....... Tis a fine thing.... grande indeed...."

The feel of the Meershaum in his teeth was different than his reed stemmed, clay bowl pipe. He wouldn't say, but he had seen a simular one years ago that one of his father's friends had. A mermaid wrapped around the bowl, where as this one had the mermaid facing out from the bow, as if a figurehead of a ship. He had coveted that pipe, and now to have one of his own was tremendous.

"Fine treasures... pity they came in th' same battered tin... mayhaps th' carpenter or one o' 'er mates c'n make seperate boxes for 'em... Til that time, back in the tin mine goes..."

He removed the pipe from his mouth, admired it again and eased it gently into it's place in the box.

"Cap'n, Mister Pew, Mister Franklin... I beg yer leave as th' ship is soon ta be droppin' anchor, much ta do topside fer me... "

The Captain nodded with the pipe still in his teeth. As the QuarterMaster passed the Master-at-Arms he clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled, then made his way topside. The bustle of the crew was energetic and not one person wore a frown.

"Grande...."

He made his way aft to his usual place of duty on the quarter, pulled the 'glass from the binacle and performed the ritual of scanning their surroundings. He was interupted by Mr. Badger,

"Mister Lasseter Sah, we be gettin' near where cap'n wants ta make berth."

Dorian looked over to the island, noting several features and nodded sharply.

"Aye, right you are... "

He turned forward and took several quick steps to the rail,

"On deck! Cock th' best bower! "

The hands foreward repeated the command with an added "Aye!" and set to work at the cathead, releasing the heavy bindings holding the main anchor in place. Just after the ships bells were struck seven times the lead man at the cathead called aft,

"Best bower ready sir!"

Mr. Lasseter nodded and spied young Geoffery Wayne fresh from polishing a cannon.

"Young mister Wayne... send word to th' Cap'n that we're soon ta make berth.... you'll likely find 'im in the Armoury wi' th' Master -ta- Arms."

"Aye sir!"

Geoffery pulled his forelock and disappeared below, heading straight to the armoury.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Nathan continued to hold Murin in his gaze, 'What a lovely girl' he thought to himself. It almost pained him to break the serene silence between them, but still he spoke.

"Now then, are you ready to begin learning your way around a ship?"

[Bloody Bill Flint]

Bill Flint helped haul in the sail at the Quartermaster's orders. His thoughts drifted to making landfall. Not at Martinique and frittering away his pay like most of the rest of the crew was thinking. His mind was on the island ahead of them. He was eager to set up a forge and begin repairing the many weapons that needed to be serviced. Bill was truly happiest when at the craft his father had taught him: crafting weapons. He choked up a little as he thought of his father and wondered if he'd ever see the old man again. He and Nathan had been taken in the night on their way home from the pub, so he was certain the elder Flint must be sick with grief wondering what had become of his son.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian stood at the rail, watching the island slip slowly by, looking for a particular landmark that had been ingrained in his head. There... there was the rock formation he was waiting for. Soon they were almost abreast of it.

"Mister Badger, but 'er nose in th' wind..."

"Aye Sah!"

As the ships' wheel was quickly turned, the ship veered into the wind, the sheets quivered and luft, her speed dropped off, then they went aback. The QuarterMaster cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled.

"Anchor away!"

"Anchor away, Aye!"

Came the retort from the crew as the cable was let go, followed by the great splash as the best bower made it's descent into the shallows...

"Take in all sail!"

Men scurried up the ratlines from the deck and set to work. Dorian smiled at Mr. Badger.

"Fine work... fine work... Almost change of the watch soon..."

Mr. Badger accepted the praise and nodded with a look at the sand glass.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Off the La Blanquilla coast

Just prior to eight bells of the Forenoon Watch

William, summoned by the hour and the young Godfrey, arrived just as the able seamen were taking in the sail. He wandered the gun deck a moment, watching the crew about their work, glad to see Jonas McCormick and Bill Flint both gathering sail at the Main Topgallant Yard. He doubted more than two words would pass between them in the next few days, but for now, a working cordiality existed, if only in stalemate.

La Blanquilla stretched out beyond the ship and it was painfully brilliant in the mid day sun. The white sand threw back all of Sol's light and many a man at the rail shielded his eyes. Soon the sailors from below would come blinking into the sun like so many wardens up from the dungeons of the berth deck.

William made his way after to be clear of the traffic when the eighth bell tolled.

[Silkie McDonough]

Nathan continued to hold Murin in his gaze, 'What a lovely girl' he thought to himself. It almost pained him to break the serene silence between them, but still he spoke.

"Now then, are you ready to begin learning your way around a ship?"

Murin closed her eyes slowly as she broke from his gaze. Her lips pulled back at the corners to form a soft smile. She looked back at Nathan with a playful spark in her eye.

"Now lad tis not tet I ner' been on a ship. I worked with a fishing fleet fer most o'mae life buot I worked as a mender of nets and sails. D'basics I've got" She taps her temple. "Tis the workin o'a ship tet I've need to learn."

Before Nathan has an opportunity to reply she added, "Besides, wot makes ye an expert after havin' been on the Watch Dog fer such a short while and most o'tet time spent in the surgery?" Her smile broadened and the sparkle in her eye danced at him as the curve of her eyebrow raised in question.

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Eight bells of the Forenoon Watch

As the eighth bell tolled, William invited Dorian aside for a conference at the larboard rail.

"There is the matter of Lady Ana." he began, and the Quartermaster nodded, for he had wondered when the Captain would broach the matter. "My mind is of two camps. To bury her at sea from whence she escaped seems a cruel irony, but to make a kirkyard on La Blanquilla may strike some aboard as tempting fate. What think you, Mister Lasseter?"

The Quartermaster went to rub a mustache that wasn't there, and William noted the habit. Even gone these many days, it was sometimes hard to drop the tics of personality we pick up over the course of time.

"Th' lads shouldn't mind either way, I should think." he paused, then added."But, what if someone should come a digging...?"

William raised an eyebrow. "Do you think they would lay her death at my door? Label me a murderer?"

Dorian shrugged. He was merely thinking aloud since William had asked him to.

"Quite probably." William said with a smile, since murder was already well established on his list of offenses. Still, his decision was pragmatic in the end and it was as much a house keeping choice as a frugal one. "The Island is too small to be peopled by graves. When we depart La Blanquilla on the morrow we'll bury her in that great trench off the Western reef. Only the resurrection will find her there."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye, a burial at sea would be th' best fer all......"

Once the discussion was concluded, they walked back to the binnacle, where Mr. Lasseter then formalized the next proceedings.

"Cap'n, we've made berth, an' soon as the change o' th' watch is complete, th' boat's'll be lowered away an' supplies ta be shifted over as well."

"Very well Mister Lasseter, and there is the rest of the shares to be distributed out to those coming off the watch. I have the deck while you handle that."

Dorian slowly nodded,

"Aye Cap'n.. She's all yours... I'll be b'low..."

Again he nodded to Willaim, who in turn gave a single nod back. Dorian headed down into the waist, all those off watch were assembled and waiting on deck outside of the companionway. Just as he was about to send for the Master-at-Arms and the Sargent-at-Arms, they appeared through the main hatch.

"Excellent... once again, gentlemen..."

He turned and they followed him past the galley, Eric relieved the guard and took his place at the dor to the Wardroom, as the QuarterMaster entered, sat at the table and opened the ledger, loaded the quill and looked up.

"Send in th' first man!"

Thus, the second watch was to receive there shares...

[William Brand]

July 21, 1704 - Abaord the Watch Dog

The rank and file of men and women disappeared aft to receive shares and each one in turn came out again onto the weather decks with a pay day smile. Most of them had the gold already tucked away on their persons, but some took to showing off what all had received equally.

Even William carried his share with him, though his take of other fortunes made it small by comparison. Ever since rising that day he had dwelt on the ways he might spend such a some. While most of the crew dreamed on drink and debaucheries ashore, William thought of land, boats and even some old grudges. There were many ways he might spend such a sum, least among these, on improvements to the 'Dog.

After a time his thoughts drifted to the acquisition of an additional ship. They would be much more formidable in the coming months if they were shadowed by a smaller craft. A watchdog for the Watch Dog. They would be a small force to be reckoned with, for few merchants or warships would tangle with two vessels at once, no matter the size.

William pondered on sloops and cutters for the next thirty minutes until the first bell of afternoon watch was struck. Then the watches traded over and most of the watch not on duty retired to the rails with food and drink to talk of spending.

First bell of Afternoon Watch

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin and Nathan began to stroll the weather deck again. Before he had answered her question they rounded to the larboard and La Blanquilla lay before them brilliant in the noonday sun. Murin paused, mixed emotions surfaced as she gazed upon the white hot sands of the tiny islet. It was beautiful to behold the white sands and blue water, cacti clinging to the ground and palm swaying in the strong breeze, the water lapping at the rocks and sand of her shores. It was picturesque. It was the islet that saved her from Manannan’s* anger. She sighed as she remembered the brave gentleman who saved her life who they had buried there and the recent passage of her friend Ana not yet sent to her grave. The past two days Murin had managed to keep her mind focused on other matters but now she was faced with the days spent with Ana. She was sad for the loss but not as distraught as one would have thought from her behavior the other day. She had rested since and now had a new life to face. She knew little of the lady after the few weeks they had spent together. Only that she was headed to England to marry her betrothed. Murin recalled his picture in locket that Ana had kept hidden from her for many days revealing it to Murin only days before their rescue. What had happened to it? She should tell Captain Brand or Mister Lasseter before they disposed of her remains. Her family would be looking for her. The locket may be of some use. If the locket were not on Ana’s person it could be tucked away in the cave that they were residing in, although Murin couldn’t imagine the lady leaving it behind. The bright red waist coat she used to signal the ship was in that cave also. The fabric was fine brocade. She could adjust it to fit her or perhaps someone onboard could use it as it is. There was something cold about the practicality of her thoughts. Something that made her feel less than reverent for the lives lost. She looked to Nathan hopefully anticipating any answer that would divert her attention. If he had answered previously she missed it while in thought.

*Irish god of the sea.

[Pew]

The buzz aboard deck could scarcely be contained amongst the small groups of crew that had gathered.

Each small clique had different plans to spend their gains, women of ill repute to be the most widely spoken of, followed closely by the strong liquor available in this corner of the world. Some spoke of finely crafted weapons or new clothing for strolling about in town. Others had no plans but to spend it as the time and commodity arose.

As each group was given orders for recieving their pay, I strolled back to Eric and took place near the door as well. From inside, the continual, "NEXT" could be heard almost to a repetitive rhythm.