The Watch Dog

[Pew]

Upon reaching the main deck, Eric Franklin and I discussed the arms below and the various repairs that were needed once reaching Martinique. Several pulls of the bottle had gone smoothly between us when the winds began to shift and Mister Badger had let loose of his bo'sun's whistle. As the crew members began to scamper into the skies, Eric and I moved aft towards the quarterdeck to watch the dance unfold in the rigging.

[William Brand]

Andrew Smyth was almost carried off the mast when the slack in the sail caused a clew to strike him full in the mouth. It dislodged a tooth, and so sudden was the pain and surprise, that Andrew let go the line and slipped sideways on one pivoting foot. His other leg and flailing arm went wide at once. It was then that Owen Monahan did his first real service in days. He reached out and slapped Andrew so heartily against the back that it shoved him hard against the yard and left a red mark that would bruise later.

Surprisingly, Andrew was silent almost all the while. It was Owen that spit out his share of curses, calling Andrew a 'God damned fool of cur" and he wasted no time in following this up with a string of accusations which ranged from Andrew's questionable birth to his preference for animal company. Andrew turned to Owen with a face that was white as a sheet, and for a moment he looked far more concerned with Owen's vehement outburst, than he had at his own near plummet.

"Stay your hands!" Owen added as a final retort, having never stopped working except to save Andrew's life.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

At the Bosun's command Bill raced into the rigging like a panther up a tree. Others were already busy fisting in the parted sail, so Flint headed for the topyard to free the head of the sail. When the rest had finished in their task Bill began to release the fastenings holding the head to the topyard. He was so consumed in his task that he didn't notice the other individual asisting him until the two met half way. It was Jonas. The two shared a long stare until Bill nodded and returned to the job at hand.

[Silkie McDonough]

Through the day Murin did what she could to help on deck but as the changing winds strengthened and buffeted the WatchDog Murin could do little more than hold on with her good hand and watch. The canvas' were being tested, the new sail maker feared these winds would cause damage. She watched Sirine take position above the strained Foremain sail. Murin did not envy the crew in the rigging this day. She turned her attention to inspect the sails of the Main mast just as the Main Topgallant sail was rent. She knew there was a spare but repairs would need to be made, if indeed repairs could be made. The crew needed to furl it quickly or the winds would unravel the fabric making repairs impossible.

[Black Syren]

The ship seemed to shudder, the waves buffeting as the Dog struggled to stay her course. She could hear the cries below, the cries of those in the rigging about her and heard the rent of canvas. Quickly she moved to fist the sails below her perch ,The Foremain Sail. She lost her grasp as the ship shuddered again and the sails she had gathered slipped free of her grasp and she cursed roundly grabbing to steady her position. One of those closest to her helped stay her from falling and she thanked him before reaching again for the canvas.

Her wrist protesting the strain put on it but that only made her more determined to see the job through. Again the ship bucked and she had to hold on and let go of the canvas. Once she had regained her balance she quickly began to gather and reef the sail, nearly done the ship shuddered again and she had to cling tightly before her job was finally finished and shakily she moved back to her safe "perch." She glanced about to see the others all safe and nodded to them.

Quickly she called down "Foremain Sail reefed, Sir!"

[Dorian Lasseter]

It was amaizing how well the crew worked together. between the calls from the boatswain's whistle, the bellowed commands given by Mr. Badger and the QuarterMaster, the damaged sail was soon furled and bundled, lashed to a line rove over the topgallant yard and slowly being lowered amidst the orderly chaos of activity around the ship. The sails were in process of being reefed in fully. As the main topgallant sail came to a rest on deck, Mr. Lasseter directed some of the men to take it into the hold where it could be inspected by the sailmaker, once that was done they would bring up the spare sail, but not send it up. The winds were to erratic to risk another sail.

"We'll not worry about it til we're fully taken by th' trades! Shoud be afore th' next chasnge o' th' watch!"

He bellowed to the men, who in turn knuckled their forelocks and restled the old sail below.

"Mister Badger! Once th' sails r' reefed in, bring all th' lads down! lookout aloft only!"

"Aye sah!"

Dorian nodded once and returned to the quarterdeck, still keeping his eyes aloft, watching the final progress of the crew. Returning to the Captain's side he let out a deep breath.

"Crew did grande... We shoulda sighted La Granade by now... 'course this flukey wind ain't helpin' matters..."

William nodded slowly.

"Aye Mister Lasseter...."

[William Brand]

"Aye Mister Lasseter...."

William was suddenly moved to less idle activities, for the restlessness of office is an oft impatient itch, and William weighed the quarterdeck against the rigging. He decided then that his hands might better serve than his hat, and so he passed it to the Quartermaster.

"Excuse me, Mister Lasseter. I think I shall go aloft." He smiled, then turned amidships. ""MISS SMITH!" William yelled out, carrying over Mister Badger's orchestration, already heading down from the quarterdeck as he called for her. She crossed at once, passing between the milling sailors headed aloft, and he passed his coat and baldric to her so suddenly that she almost dropped the cutlass.

He jumped up to the lower shrouds by way of the eight pounder, Charity, and there he joined James Whiting, who was also ascending the ratlines on the starboard side. They added themselves to the marines, lookouts, cooks, gunners and able seamen already at work. The best of them was buffeted by canvas and element, and the wind tried once, twice, then three times to brush them away, but to no avail. Quick hands made short work of loose lashings and thumping sailcloth.

Down below, Mister Badger was yelling at three gawkers that had only just arrived on deck.

"BAGPIPE THE MIZZEN, IF YOU PLEASE!"

[Dorian Lasseter]

The evening wore on as the trade winds' influence took over more and more... The shifting and adjusting of the sails needed less and less attention. Soon the winds had steadied and with a slight alteration in course, the ship was sailing smoothly once again. The QuarterMaster was busy all this time with the charts and navigational instruments, checking and rechecking their position. He was slightly annoyed that somehow they had not yet sighted La Granade. Now that it was dark, the island would be fairly invisible save for what lights might appear. Once they had spotted the island, they would alter course northerly, running parallel to the Antilles. As he poured over the one chart under lantern light a clear voice rang out into the night.

"Land Ho!"

Dorian looked up and called out.

"Where away?"

"Fine off the larb'd bow!"

The feminine voice called back. Dorian grabbed his glass and stepped to the larboard rail and peered into the darkness. Yes, there were some lights scattered on what could only be the island known as La Granade.

"Very goode Miss Siren! Mister Badger, prepare ta chnage course! North, North-east, a quarter north!"

"Aye, Sah!"

And so the crew were active again, changing the sails to best react to the new course set...

22 July 1704, Aboard the ship Watch Dog

Four bells of the First Watch

Larboard Watch

[William Brand]

22 July 1704, Aboard the ship Watch Dog

Four bells of the First Watch

William stepped out from the galley at the call of "Land Ho!" and watched Mister Lasseter from a vantage point amidships. The Quartermaster was a marksman of the compass and dividers, so he made no effort to ascend the quarterdeck, content to drink the hot cider which Lazarus had prepared fro the night watches.

"Good stuff." William had said to Mister Gage, not that poor stuff ever came out of the galley these days. From Diego down to Lazarus, the fare had ever been most fair aboard the 'Dog, and were it not for the constant labor aboard ship, they might all be portly patrons indeed. Even William had begun to show his share of weight in recent weeks and had silently pledged himself to long walks at Martinique.

William noted that Andrew Smyth had returned to service on deck, none the worse for his brush with danger. His mouth was swollen above and below, and he rubbed his jaw tenderly from time to time. He passed William on the gun deck and the Captain interrupted his salute with a comment.

"Better to lose one tooth to accident than all of them to scurvy, Mister Smyth."

Andrew wasn't in a smiling mood, but William being the Captain, he tried to smile just the same. It was quickly reduced to a grimace of pain and William nodded understandably.

"That will do, Mister Smyth. Take a quarter hour's rest in the galley and ask Mister Gage to serve you an extra rum ration to nurse the pain."

"Thank you, Sah." he said with another effort, and it came out sounding like 'Fahnk Yuh, Saw'.

Mister Badger was altering course by this time under the Quartermaster's supervision and William sent for Masters Pew and Franklin to join him at the galley.

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Pew]

"Mister Pew, Mister Franklin, Cap'n r'quests you sahs presently in th' galley," rings a voice in the dark. One of the powder monkeys had crept up on us in the midst of our discussion.

"Tell 'im we'll b' there right away," says Eric to the young lad in the dark.

"Aye sahs." The scamper of footsteps can be heard running down the steps from the Quarterdeck. Eric and I follow the footsteps into the belly of the ship only to be met with the smells of a late supper wafting from Mister Gage's hands.

"Cap'n," I say as Eric and I nod quickly.

[William Brand]

"Gentlemen...please." William said, gesturing to two prepared glasses of steaming cider, which the two men took up with appreciative smiles. William sent for Mister Lasseter and they drank for a time until he arrived. Mister Gage filled a fourth glass and William passed it to the QM and launched into the matter on his mind. "Mister Pew. Mister Franklin. With Martinique looming on our future horizons, we must consider the armed watches."

"Aye" They both agreed. The Quartermaster nodded, having expected to review the protocols while at port.

"While we are at anchor at Martinique, I should like to demonstrate a show of discipline and prudence. Whether ashore or aboard, we shall have two armed watches ever. Mister Pew shall pick four able seamen for the Larboard Watch and Mister Franklin shall have the choosing for the Starboard Watch. You may confer together on these choices of course, but I should like one sharpshooter aloft on each watch, with the other three on the fo'c'sle deck, gun deck and poop deck, respectively. The four of the alternate watch will be ashore with the rest of the crew, attending to a more...relaxed watch under the direction of that Master ashore." William paused to sip his cup, allowing for any of them to interject.

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian thought for a moment, sipped his cider and watched the Master-at-Arms and his mate mull over what the Captain had said. Seeing no action for comment from them, he interjected his own.

"Agreed... Should we get th' crew used ta carryin' arms presently? Say, start o' next watch, or th' mornin' watch?"

He took another sip of his cider, noting it had cooled enough to take a drink and did so...

[William Brand]

"If all can be made ready by Middle Watch, it would serve to have it noted in the logbooks then. We'll arm the four of the watch and the Master. The shore party will be an altogether different matter, what with so many drinking." William smiled a little. "I'm of two camps when it comes to arming more than the Master and his four ashore."

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Pew]

"Aye sah," I say agreeing with the Captain, "middle watch 'll give 's time t' fetch an' load said weapons." Eric nodded in agreement.

"Mayhaps Mister Flint could assist us ashore Cap'n," Eric interjected. "Good man, I trust 'im sah."

"Aye," agreeing with Mister Franklin I nod again. "He could take a man 'r two t' refit those arms that need th' 'elp."

[William Brand]

"Aye. I would choose Mister Flint as one of the four, given the choice. I would also recommend Nathan Bly, not that I know much of his training, but being a former a marine, he should have some understanding which places him above the able seamen in this regard. As for that other marine, Jonas McCormick, I should like it better if he was not among the choices. At least for the time being."

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian nodded in agreement to what William had said, then interjected his own thoughts.

"Aye... an' as fer those aboard... Ciaran'll be in th' top, we all know 'e's a crack shot... an' when 'e's not on duty... I believe Mister Tucker will fit th' bill in th' top... An' when they's ashore Styles, Press.... an' Morrelle? Would do fer th' armed watch..."

He nodded to himself as the fifth bell of the watch rang out...

[Pew]

"Aye, 'n 's much 's pains me t' say, Owen also 'as a right steay 'and."

[William Brand]

William considered the musings they made aloud, and only when they reached Owen, was he moved enough to interject.

"Not Owen." He said with a short finality. "I agree that the man has steady hands. Very steady hands. But what I want, Gentlemen, is a steady attention to the duty of a marine. And perhaps all lookouts aloft will bear the title hereafter, so we must be ever so particular in our choice."

He waited for each of them to nod, before continuing. "Ciaran is an excellent choice for a highly seated marksman of the watch. I had thought to keep the office of lookout and marine separate, but I cannot see how it would hurt to hold both offices in the same person, provided that that person be well chosen. With Eagle Eyes in the main top, perhaps it behooves us to arm Miss Tribbiani in the fore top or replace her with another. Then likewise on the Starboard Watch we shall have Tucker in the main and Morrel in the fore. This still leaves three for each watch on the decks and the Master of the Watch."

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Aye... We've time enough ta mull out th' details... Mister Pew, Franklin, make a list o' thems that did fine in yer training..."

They responded as one voice.

"Aye-Aye."

The Master & Sargent-as-Arms headed off to finalize the list of who would bare arms on the watches as the Captian and QuarterMaster continued to sit in the Galley. Dorian soon finished the cider he had and gave a short sigh as he reached the dregs in the botton.

"Tha' was fine... Freshly made is th' best..."

Captain Brand nodded as he too finished his cider. Both men stood in silence as the lantern light danced around them, casting freakish shadows here and there.

"Have ye any prospects as fer what lies ahead in Fort Royal? Asside from what supplies we gonna ferry back ta La Blanquila... "

He looked up at the overhead and back into his empty tankard as he waited for William to voice his thoughts...

[William Brand]

July 22, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

Between fifth and sixth bell of First Watch

"Prospects. Prospects..." William mused aloud. "I think I shall buy a few more books if I can. We have many a literate man and woman aboard. We might have ourselves a small collection. Can you imagine it?"

Mister Lasseter played at heavy concentration and William almost elbowed him. "You like a good book as much as the next man and we have precious few, but...to answer your question. I should like some new clothes."

"Aye." Mister Lasseter agreed, for much of his wardrobe was becoming fit for a working day.

"I should also like to investigate any maps of Trinidad which I can find to see what lands we are to claim there. I am very interested in an examination of those land deeds in the strongbox. We may have to seek the aid of solicitor in the matter of the deeds so that he might attest to their authenticity and our own legality."

-LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY-

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Hmmm.... a solicitor... much as it pains me ta deal wi' th' likes o' them... I agree it would be a thing ta do...."

He walked over to Mr. Gage and refilled his tankard with more cider, offered more to William who politely refused. Walking back to where the Captain stood, Dorian smiled.

"An' I do enjoy a goode book e'ery so often... Mayhaps a should see if I c'n find a treatise on the Art of Defence... mebee learn another trick 'r two... which brings to mind, th' crew been run through some musket drill... I wonder how well any o' them know their way 'round a cutlass?"

He mused over this thought while sipping his fresh draught of hot cider.

[William Brand]

"Aye. We had best teach them the sword before too long. Though it can probably wait until Martinique. It will give the watch aboard a distraction while the other is out playing at dice and debauchery." He smiled a little to think of some of his men and women ashore with too much coin and too much time at their disposal.

"Hmmm." The Quartermaster added and he seemed to be thinking the very thing, almost.

"Yet...a good crew Mister Lasseter. A very good crew."

Dorain agreed with another observation. "Mister Youngblood has made good work o' them who know the cannon."

"Aye." William said, nodding. "We're short of gunnery crews, but at the very same time, we are not short of very good gunnery crews."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Agreed... a goode gunnery crew indeed..."

He swirled the remnants of his second tankard of cider around, drank it down and set the vessel upon the nearest table.

"Shall we head topside, Cap'n?"

"Aye"

With that, Dorian swept his hand out to the side, giving right of way to William. They headed directly out into the waist, and continued up onto the quarterdeck. As they came to the lee side, Mr. Lasseter cocked his head to the side.

"We 'ave no proper ensign ta fly when we come ta Fort Royal... I just realized that."

He looked at William who wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips. Dorian continued.

"Now we got th' ol' Brit merchant flag wot was aboard, an we got th' Dutch flag of th' Danzig... An our own o'course... can't fly tha'... not inta Fort Royal..."

[William Brand]

"Yesss..." William said, dragging the word out into a sentence. "I had quite forgotten my initial reasoning behind Miss McDonough's appointment." He called for one of the powder monkeys they used to fetch the various officers. This time it was Patrick Godfrey who came running.

"You are looking better, Mister Godfrey."

"Better...sah?"

"Aye, Mister Godfrey. As I recall, when you came aboard we couldn't see you if stood leeward."

Patrick smiled at this, and it was a good smile. A young man's smile. Patrick was easy to like, for he served at every task given him without complaint and excepted tasks that sometimes gave grown men pause. "The cook's been kind t' me, Cap'n."

William patted his own midsection thoughtfully. "But IS it kindness, Mister Godfrey? We know so little of Mister Gage. He might prove to be a cannibal, and he but demonstrates some animal husbandry on us all..."

Patrick continued to smile and William sent him off after the Sailmaker.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin had followed the hands with the rent sail to the hold to examined the damage. Her stomach was in knots at her first official duty as sail maker. She knew her trade but this first test would be proof that she would be an asset to the crew. It had been several years since she had done any mending on such a large scale. Fighting the demons that knawed at her confidence she timidly asked the Tars to assist in spreading the large sheet and then inquired where the mending supplies were kept. The tar's looked at each other as if this should be obvious and pointed out a very large chest in the corner. Murin walked to the corner where the chest sat at the reaches of the lamp light. Neither tar offered assistance as she looked around the space for a second lantern they stood, waiting for her to ask for assistance, this she childishly refused to do. She soon spied a second lantern not far from the first. Once lit she proceeded to the chest again.

Holding the lantern to light the interior of the chest she gingerly sorted through the contents with her free hand as if something inside might bite her at any moment. Murin turned back to the sail lifting the lantern higher and inspected the tear more closely in the brighter light. Yes, it should repair rather easily. After hanging the second lantern turned again to the chest, plucked out what was needed and within moments was on the floor, the sail spread out before her, beginning the task at hand.

Her hands moved with skill, nimble but for the injury. She did not pay head to the ache in her left palm save for the times when she stopped to re-thread the needle or rent canvas for the long patch. Then she would simply extend her fingers a few times and return to the task at hand. The bells rang but she did not count, she enjoyed her work and was driven by her desire to prove herself useful. She was enjoying the solitude of the work ...until Patrick Godfrey bounded to the doorway energetically declared "Cap'n requestin' yer presence on the quater deck Miz McDunna." Murin startled from her work stared wide eyed at the door for a moment then let out a laugh as her heart began to beat again. The lad seemed just as startled at her reaction, "M'sorry miz." Murin replied, "Tis nil a problem lad, I'll be there presently." and Patrick disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared.

As she lifted herself from the coil of ropes she had been sitting on she wondered just how long she had been below deck. Making her way to the quarter deck Murin stretched the muscles that had been too long in one position. Her eyes were dry, she rubbed the fatigue from them and continued on. Once above board she was surprised to find the sky dark save for the twinkle of the stars. As she mounted the quarter deck she curtsied to the officers, "Cap'n, Mess-ter. Lass'ter"