The Watch Dog

[Bloody Bill Flint]

As the crew prepared to make sail and finish the journey into the port, Bill Flint took stock of the marines aboard. It came to him that they should have uniforms, something that would mark them as unique to their small fleet. Thinking upon he decided it would be best to address Murin McDounough once they were ashore and see if she would be willing to sew some uniforms if he purchased the necessary supplies.

[William Brand]

July 27, 1704 - The Watch Dog, anchored off Fort Royal at Martinique

Eight Bells of the Afternoon Watch

William watched the approach of the jollywatt from the quarterdeck for a moment before signaling the Maastricht to send Mister Badger over, and by the time Dorian arrived aboard the 'Dog, the bosun was headed across from the fluyt.

"Welcome aboard, Captain." William said, greeting Dorian with more formality then before. He swept off his hat and offered his hand. Dorian looked bemused, but he returned the title and the handshake. William called the Master Gunner and Master-at-arms aft as Mister Badger arrived at the frigate. With all of them were gathered, William gave the deck over to Mister Warren while He, Dorian, Jacob, Petee and Preston went below to the ward room.

William invited every man to sit while he fetched up a glass or two. Miss Smith came in then and gave him a lighthearted, but also reproachful look for tending to duties that were hers alone. He graciously surrendered the cups and she served the men at the table.

"Gentlemen. A fine bit of sailing into the wind these past few days. My compliments." This was followed by appreciative nods and a few thumps on the table. "And my many thanks to Mister Badger. A bit of good sailing for such a troublesome craft."

"A boxed elephant with a pocket handkerchief." Mister Badger muttered, as he sipped his drink.

"Aye." William agreed, for he doubted that he himself would have done as well with the fluyt. "You were the only man for such a task."

Mister Badger smiled, and while he looked tired past understanding, he raised his glass a little in a return salute before draining the contents.

"We had seven more prisoners pass." Mister Badger said suddenly without prompting. "That damn Dutchie of a captain ordered me to a 'parade rest' so that he might bury 'em."

"I don't recall that you stopped..." Petee said, with a narrowing eye.

"I didn't." Mister Badger said. "He buried 'em on the move."

"He might have waited until Martinique." William said, refreshing Jacob's glass.

"Not him...the bastard." Mister Badger growled, and took up his glass to drink then, added by way of explanation. "French waters." There was an understanding 'Ahhhhh.' which circled the table.

"It is just as well." William replied.

"I noted trouble on th' 'Dog, Cap'n." Dorian said, hoping to discover what many of them had speculated about on the Heron.

"Ahh, yes."

"What happened with this Tawny fellow?"

William raised an eyebrow at that, for he had not expected Dorian to know of Tawny. Dorian explained at once. "The new lads on the Heron..."

"Ahhh." William returned nodding. "I'll explain."

William laid out the events of the last few days, including the unexpected discovery of the man Tawny, now labeled a pirate. William also touched on other insignificant details of the trip.

Mister Badger talked at length, once the third drink was in him, and he spoked on the leaks, burials and every troublesome matter which had taken place aboard the crippled fluyt for the past few days. He was mindful to add many colorful descriptions of the 'Dutchie Bastard' as he went along, and many of them had trouble hiding their smiles as he went, for Mister Badger was notorious for mumbling his opinions of others aloud.

Even Mister Lasseter was want to talk, though his thoughts and feelings tended to be all praises and compliments. He had many good things to say about the Heron and the lads both new and old.

The discussion continued in this fashion for a time.

~Larboard Watch coming on Duty~

[Pew]

Our discussion finally made it's way round to those stores to be put up for auction or sale at port and those goods each vessel was in need of. Several lists came out from each of the ship's masters as well as the Captains aboard the Watch Dog. Mister Lasseter refilled his goblet as did myself and Mister Youngblood. Mister Badger waved off the round as he scrolled through his log book of notes.

The Captain began the round table by hearing what Petee needed to restock the gunners. He reported that one of the cannon needed major repair to the point that he wouldn't ram home the wad even if Owen himself were at the end of it. A chuckle of laughter caucused around the table while he continued to note that several cannon also needed minor repair.

"Cap'n, we 'lso still 'ave those aboard th' Watch Dog that we salvaged from th' Apollo," he said as if he nearly forgot they were aboard. The Captain nodded in agreement and made a notation in his log.

"Mister Pew?" The Captain continued.

"Aye sah. Many o' th' muskets need barrels 's well s' a new lock. Mister Flint has a list 'ere," I took the folded page out and opened it passing it to Mister Lasseter who glanced at it and then passed it to the Captain. "We 'lso need several o' th' pistols t' 'ave a good once o'er." The Captain nodded again as more notes were scribed.

The minutes passed as each man around the table gave their report as the goblets were drained. Miss Smith came in and laid upon the table a plate of cheeses and bread. Several hands tore into the bread as glasses were filled again.

After a few moments of the Captain catching up to the reports in his notes, he stood and arched his back.

"Gentlemen, a fine job," he says, grasping his goblet from the table and raising the glass. We nodded and returned the gesture. The Captain walked to where the window once was and placed his glass upon the table near. Peering through the window he took sight of the two ships in our flotilla. "Let us discuss our prizes."

[William Brand]

The subject of prizes had been on everyone's minds since the battle, and while each of them was anxious to voice his opinion, they waited for the Captain to come back from the window. He continued to look out through one of the open shutters, watching the Maastricht bob upon the current of the Cul de Sac Royal. After a time, he turned again.

"Sorry, Gentlemen. I was lost in thought." he said smiling. "I have not enjoyed such good fortune in a long time, the Kate notwithstanding."

There were many nods, for more than one of them had visited the crippled frigate at La Desirade, and to some of them, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"The Maastricht will be towed into port for auction within the week, I should think, if all goes well ashore. The Heron...? Well...to be perfectly honest, Gentlemen, I cannot remember a time in recent years when I felt more safe, more sheltered, then I have with the Heron going before us on the water."

Some of them nodded at this, for their tiny flotilla had indeed created a sense of shared strength that the Dutch and English had most likely enjoyed just prior to the loss of their ships. And perhaps it was a false feeling and perhaps it was foolish to place so much comfort in the quantity of ships. Either way, William continued.

"The Heron affords us an added distance of range, giving us a greater scope of horizon, firepower and boarding parties. She is a goodly ship."

"Aye." Dorian agreed, and perhaps with some enthusiasm, and this caused a few to smile, for it was evident that Mister Lasseter had enjoyed his time aboard the cutter. "A shallow draft. She sail strong into the wind..."

"Aye. I propose to keep the Heron...at least as far as Trinidad." William explained, then he waited to see what each of them might say.

[Dorian Lasseter]

“Aye… Trinidad….”

Dorian repeated in a low voice. He was already calculating what all would be needed for provisions for not one, but two ships for the journey southward. As long as they got a reasonable price for the Maastricht and even enough trade for other items, they could not only afford full provisions for both ships and more to be stashed on La Blanquilla.

“Aye Cap’n… Mayhaps I’s predisposed ta th’ Heron at this time… She is a fine vessel, fer all ye pointed out n’ more… not much needed ta make ‘er shine right nicely… I second yer proposal…”

He raised his goblet to William then drained the small amount of liquid that was there befoe setting it down again.

[William Brand]

The Master Gunner made no objection to having one or two ships. He had given little thought to the Heron since the battle some days before. He did however voice his concerns that the Watch Dog was short of good gunners. He understood the added firepower that a second ship would bring, but he drank and spoke only of the 'Dog.

"Why not auction the Watch Dog and transfer all hands to the Heron?" Mister Badger asked. This raised a few eyebrows and Mister Badger explained, "This frigate is much older. She's already once seen one refitting that we know of and a half dozen careenings by the look of her."

"I like her too much." William returned.

"You favor this ward room." Mister Pew corrected and William tried not to smile and failed. "Aye. True."

"I favor this ward room." Petee added with emphasis to a murmur of laughter, and William was reminded that he was not the only one nominated to fill Captain William's post when he died.

"We shall dine here more often after Martinique, I assure you." William said, refreshing one or two glasses.

"Either way," Mister Badger continued, "I don't mind the company of two ships, provided the elephant is gone."

"Metaphors aside, Mister Badger, does Maastricht mean 'elephant'?" Petee asked, packing a pipe for a smoke topside. William was already shaking his head, having visited the town of Maastricht himself, and knowing the word, but Mister Badger explained his repetition of the name.

"The Maastricht was 'Witte Oliphant' before the war."

"Really...?" William said surprised, for he had known another ship by the same name some years before, though it had been a smaller vessel.

Mister Badger nodded. "Never a more fitting name for such a lumbering thing."

"Well, Gentlemen, if we are agreed that the Heron might be retained, then we will wait to call a vote concerning the Heron's future once all are gathered again in one place."

There were nods and a few 'Ayes' followed by a pause in the conversation. William took the opportunity to return to matters discussed several days before on the subject of marines.

"Mister Pew."

"Aye, sah?"

"Do you remember that we discussed uniforms for the marines?"

"Aye, sah." Mister Pew returned promptly, for he had hoped to cover this subject before landfall. He was quite enthusiastic on the subject, though he was uncertain ho popular uniforms would be among the marines themselves. He could have not have known then how many of the marines had discussed this very subject privately among themselves, for it was agreed among most of them, if not all, that uniforms would make a fine impression among the throngs ashore, and many of them hoped to make a personal impression or two. "I would like uniforms for them, if it might not take shares away from any."

"We shall keep all of the small arms from the Maastricht. This way we might find among those, and ours aboard, the best pistols. We shall keep all of the best pistols for ourselves and sell the bulk of the bad for coin in which to buy uniforms. In this way, we might improve the armory, and buy coats for the marines." William turned to the Master Gunner and added. "And the gunnery crews."

Mister Youngblood nodded gratefully.

William continued. "If done properly, I believe few aboard can argue the trade. Anyone who disagrees with this, may choose for himself or herself a good pistol from among the finest to be kept or sold. What say you?"

[Pew]

Several nods in agreement and a few "aye's" went around the table. I thought to myself about uniforms. What could the marines have to distinguish themselves, yet not disrupt the other feelings of the crew....I added more notes to my book and began the sorting of weapons in my head for sale ashore at Martinique. I began to total the amount we would hope to see in exchange for the used pistols and such.

Each man drank their goblets down. I leaned on the table and reached for a bite of cheese, "Gentlemen, 's there a price ye may know as to what th' pistols may set for us ashore?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian put his hand to his chin and scratched it thoughtfully.

“Weeellll… I’d say we might get… Twenny, mebee twennyfive shillin’s per, dependin’ on how serviceable they be… Mayhaps twice that per musket… An’ it depends on ‘ow goode th’ tradesmen are at hagglin’ price…”

He became quiet again staring at the overhead, running the numbers and other variables through his head.

“Thirteen, mebee fourteen Sols per shillin’…sooo… “

[William Brand]

William nodded. "Aye, thirteen or fourteen, but ask for eighteen on the shilling. You may be a Master-at-Arms, but the tradesmen will only see an English born pirate, so do not let them bid you below twelve. Some of those pistols and muskets might fetch upwards of two pounds or more."

"And some no more than 10 shillings." Petee added.

"Aye." Dorian agreed.

"My lads will put some polish into 'em." Preston said, unconcerned. "We'll have coin by tomorrow evening, Cap'n."

"Excellent, Mister Pew." William said, standing up. "I have business ashore, gentlemen. We must rid ourselves of the Maastricht and her prisoners."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Dorian stood slowly after Captain Brand did, and made his statement concerning heading ashore.

“Cap’n… Gen’lmen…”

He headed out into the passageway and into his cabin which had been abandoned since he took command of the Heron. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He opened the top left drawer of his desk and pulled out the QuarterMasters Logbook and laid it on the desktop and pushed the drawer shut. He paused a moment before opening the second drawer. He had hoped Mister Pew had found time to repair his Dragoon pistols and put them here, but the drawer was bereft of the weapons. He made a mental note to ask about them later. Shutting the drawer, he picked up the logbook and departed the cabin. He went foreward and into the waist, then up onto the quarterdeck. There he looked around the ship and over to the prize to be sold, and the ship under his command. He opened the tome to where he had last written in it, several days past. He read the remarks of what needed to be replenished in the hold. He would also have to confer with others for their needs, and add what was needed for the Heron to the grand list.

[William Brand]

William went out with the officers and had just ascended the quarterdeck when the watches cried out, "Ahoy the deck! Smallboats on approach!"

William went to the rail and took up a glass to watch three small boats inching towards their position. Two of the boats were filled with a mix of men and boys, and by the looks of some of the men aboard, it would probably be traders come to see what goods were to be had. It was not uncommon for slave ships and merchant ships to anchor offshore and let the tradesmen come to them and barter on the open water, so William was not surprised. However, the third boat made his eyebrows go up a bit, for it was filled with its fair share of 'fyne women' already demonstrating their 'wares' even at a distance.

There were a few raucous cheers and calls from amidships, and William sent down a good humored, but steadying remark or two.

"That whoever shall be found...seducing any boy or woman not of the said Company aboard ship...", Mister Warren said from his place along the rail, and William smiled, still watching the merchants approach. He sent for the Quartermaster.

[Bloody Bill Flint]

And unbeknownst to all as he spoke those words, Bill Flint was parroting them aboard The Heron. Then he added

"Marines, not to claim any authority on such matters, but unless I miss my guess it will be our duty to keep the peace while in port. I urge you to be an example to all who lay eye on us. Comrade and stranger alike. Show the world that you are proud of our ship, our crew, but most paramount that you are proud of yourselves."

He was greeted with an enthusiastic "Aye!" from the marines.

Clearing his throat he added

"And to our shipmates, please do not test our resolve in performing our duties while you enjoy this much needed time ashore."

he said this with a smile and was greeted with a slightly less enthusiastic, but nonetheless firm "aye" from the nearby crew.

In truth none of those who'd seen him in battle wished to test Bill Flint's resolve on anything whatsoever.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mister Lasseter’s nose came out of his logbook as the hail of the watches told of the boats heading from shore. He chuckled as the men cheered heartily, seeing the one boat full of women. He was about to go find pen and ink to make some additional notes when he heard that the Captain had requested his presence, on the opposite side of the deck. He closed the book again, tucked it under his arm and walked the handful of paces over to William’s side.

“Aye Cap’n… “

William turned and nodded to Dorian.

“Captain… QuarterMaster… I believe we have some merchants and traders come out to see what we have to offer them, and a boatload of ladies to sell their ‘wares’…”

The last bit caused Dorian to smile and slightly nod his head and a questioning look crossed his face.

“We got stores from th’ Apollo ta trade off… er…… ye gonna let them lass’s aboard?”

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin approached the captain and quarter master with a curtsy. “Capn’, Messter Lawster, I’ve the list o’sail supplies fer d’Dog ere. I’ve nill ben off d’Dog sos I’ve not the lists fer d’otters yet." she held the list out. "Wot would ya ave mdo?”

Belated she realized that she had not waited to be addressed by either man and began to blush. "I, ...err, excuse me gentlemen" She curtsied again bowed her head and backed a step away the list still clutched in her hand.

[William Brand]

The two men looked unperturbed by the interruption and William took the offered list from Miss McDonough. He and Dorian perused the contents, and when both men reached the bottom of the list, they began to nod.

"Thank you, Miss McDonough." William said, reading down the list second time. The list is concise and I believe you have covered all matters as they pertain to the 'Dog's rigging. Give no thought to the Heron or Maastricht for the present, but show yourself to Mister Pew to discuss what he might require for the marines by way of clothing. The matter of uniforms might not be realized for a few days yet, but Mister Pew will give you his thoughts on the matter so that the two of you might come to an agreement on the look and requirements of uniforms."

She curtsied again and looked pleased with herself as she moved to speak with Mister Pew amidships.

"Now...the matter of the Apollo goods..." William began, pressing a thumb and forefinger together through the bottom of his beard.

"Four four-pounders ta begin with..." Mister Lasseter offered, turning to the subject of the salvage at once.

"Aye. Inform Mister Youngblood that he can begin the sale of the cannon at his leisure." William said, then amended. "And see that he gets coin for them. The crew will want more of it by week's end." Dorian's eyes wandered to the lass-filled boat for the third or fourth time and William answered his earlier question. "No ladies aboard but our own. Let the lads palaver at the rail, but they must wait to spend their coin in turn ashore."

"Aye, Cap'n." Dorian said bemused, for one of the able seamen leaned out so far at the rail that he threatened to overturn himself or the frigate.

"I leave the other trifles of the Apollo to you, Dorian. See what coin you might get for them for our immediate needs. Once we have the whole of our crew, previous and new, gathered here aboard the 'Dog, we shall allow the recent Dutch recruits to separate their personal affects from the gotten goods before we go to market with the rest. As for the Ilex fortune and some of the Maastricht's more precious items...we'll be required to go ashore to search out better markets for those goods, so some of them might wait aboard the 'Dog under guard. You and I will see to their disposal where we may."

"It'll be a fine accounting when all's done." Dorian remarked, and he looked anxious to delve into the trade and purchase that came with ports. William liked the look on his face, for it spoke of all the Quartermaster's previous accountings. Since his arrival, the 'Dog's ledgers had become illuminated manuscripts of efficiency and prudence.

William called for his Steward and sent her again with orders to the cook. He told her to inform Mister Gage that he was to 'Run the pantry dry' during their stay, for William meant to carry no spoiled or hardened foods to Trinidad if he could help it. All would be replenished here at Fort Royal.

"I shall go ashore as soon as Mister Pew organizes a shore party of marines to come in escort. I shall learn where and how we might dispose of the Dutch and English prisoners. Perhaps we might be free of them by nightfall, though I expect some quantity of paperwork might be in order before they go."

~Larboard Watch on Duty~

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin turned from the Captain and Quartermaster and spied Mister Pew immediately. She had never met the Master-at-arms but knew him by sight and reputation. She made her way amidship to him remembering to stop a few paces away and wait to be recognized this time.

"Miss McDonough isn't it?"

"Aye sir." she started to curtsy, stopped herself, then knuckled her forehead. "D'cap'n said t'see ya bout wha'cha might b'needin fer dressin d'marines."

[Pew]

"Ah yessss." I rubbed my chin. "Care t' take a walk gerl?" I waved my arm in front of us and she led the way forward. "I 'ave several ideas for th' marines. Each tact may depend on wha' we find ashore 'ere." I clasped my hands behind my back and we reached the larboard rail. We watched for a moment as the small boats peddling their wares made their way among the ships. Owen twice nearly fell overboard and was caught by Paul as he tried to dive into the longboat of women.

We shared ideas for what may work best for the marines. Baldrics, tri-corns, sashes, waistcoats, we could not decide, but thought the trip ashore could influence our ideas.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Mister Lasseter was relieved that the men would not be allowed to bring the ladies in the boat onto the ship, too many men for only a couple of women would cause big problems. He saw it happen many a time while in the royal navy. When the subject returned to the stores and salvaged goods to be sold off he referred to the logbook and believed they would be able to turn over a tidy profit. The list that Miss McDonough had made up was very well done, he would have to add what he needed for the Heron to it, but only after they took stock of what could be used off the Maastricht. He took his leave and went to find Mister Youngblood and discuss the particulars on the cannon to be sold.

Mister Lasseter found the Master Gunner in the hold, directing two of the men with the job of rousting out the cannon in question to be brought to market.

“Mister Youngblood… How soon ye think these’ll be fit to take ashore?”

“With a bit o’ polishing and a spot o’ paint…. Three r’ four hours, Sir…”

“Very well… carry on my goode man…”

“Aye Sah!”

Dorian headed topside and made his way to where the four lads from the Heron still milled about, making small talk over the side with the ladies in the one boat. They straightened at his approach and stopped their bantering. He walked slowly up to them, looked at each in turn with an unjudgemental eye before addressing them.

“A’right, back ta th’ Heron, but first we stop at th’ Maastricht ta see what she still has ta offer us.”

“Aye Cap’n.”

Four sets of knuckles met the owners’ brows in salute. They turned as a group and headed to the ladder steps down to the Jollywatt. Dorian followed shortly, sat in the sternsheets and they were off. It was a short pull to the fluyt, where only Mister Lasseter headed aboard. He was met by those Men of the Watch Dog left aboard to guard the prisoners.

“Genn’lmen… All’s well?”

“Aye Mister Lasseter…”

“Very goode… I’ll be seein’ what stores we might be able ta use on our ships afore we sell off this… ship…”

The men grinned, guessing that another word might have been used for what he thought of this ship. Dorian nodded and walked about the deck with his logbook. He retrieved a pencil from his coat pocket and scribbled notes on a page as he inspected coils of line, cannon, sails and anything else that might serve the Watch Dog or Heron.

[William Brand]

William returned to the ward room and prepared a satchel of documents for his trip inland. He gathered up his logbook, the letters of marque, and a copy of the ship's roster. He placed these carefully into the bottom of the satchel along with some coin, a second pistol and the newly acquired watch. Then he made his way forward to the surgery and put his head in at the surgery door to see how the patients were mending.

Ajayi at upright in a bunk along the starboard wall wearing his share of bandages and looking as though he had tangled with a dangerous animal, and thinking this, William was reminded that that had been the very case. Still, for all of his hurts, Ajayi looked as strong as an ox and he fixed William with his usual look of quiet strength.

Miss Wardell was not to be seen, and Chanault explained that she was in the secluded privacy of Tempest's inner room, where she might recover away from 'men's eyes.' William understood of course, given her recent travail, and he made no effort to see her for the moment. Instead, he went out onto the gundeck and ordered a small boat over the side of the frigate.

~Larboard Watch on Duty~

[Black Syren]

The tropical breezes played with her long braid tearing wisps of it out to whip about her, her eyes moving restlessly taking in all that she could see and imagining what she could not. Soon perhaps she could take that much yearned for swim, have her feet upon land for just a wee bit, explore and do what she wanted.

Her gaze was drawn to the women in the boats, They made no attempts at being maidenly and she found their display quite vulgar. She sniffed and ran a gaze over them and saw they were all older, a hard life such as they led was not easy.

Still the common whore next to the more refined graces of a Courtesan was like comparing a draft horse to an andalusian. Both were horses, but one was simply more elegant, showy. If she had followed in her mother’s footsteps where would she be right now? What would she be doing and with who?

She hid her yawn and took note of a feisty redhead angling for Owens attention but her gaze was drawn upwards and gazes locked for a moment. The redhead’s quite challenging, and with a grin she blew her a kiss and a wink and bit her lip to hide her laughter. Yep women were women everywhere. She gave a stretch and returned her gaze to the happenings about them and watched the merchants vie with the “Ladies” for a place to rest and speak to the sailors on deck about the wares they carried.

[Pew]

I took my leave from Miss McDonough and asked to meet me back at the next turn of the glass.

"Much t' do me lady. I should 'ave the crates o' pistols ready t' go by th' next turn. Shall we take a journey ashore then?" She nods and I turn to go below.

As I descend the ladder stairs, I thumb through the armoury log to find the dog-eared page of weapons we loaded from the Maastricht. One of the powder monkeys bumps into me as he asccend the stairs.

"Sorry sah, didn't see you sah."

"No worries lad, fetch me Misters Mooney, Monahan, and Hingerty, 's well as Lady Siren. We need t' get th' crates o' pistols to th' deck t' be rowed ashore."

With a quick salute and an "Aye sah," the lad takes off up the stairs. Upon reaching the cabin door, I open it and toss the log onto my hammock. Fetching a pail of water from the galley, I place it on the small stool by the desk. Removing my shirt, I wash my face and hands and dry them quickly. My slops looking worse for wear, and myself not having an extra pair, I open Eric's chest and find a pair that look like they should fit as well as another shirt. "Thankee Eric. A tankard 'r two should cover it." As I finish dressing, those called for arrive at the door.

"Right then, there are a couple o' crates tha' need carried above. We are t' take 'em t' shore t' see what we can fetch for them. Ifin ye'd be so kind..." I sweep my hand towards the armoury door. Owen groans and gets a sharp nudge in the ribs from Paul. "Ye'll be ashore soon enough mate," Paul says quietly to Owen. As the quartet makes their way into the small room, I pull a small box I retrieved from the Apollo out of the desk. I open it and grab my share of coins. I take a leather satchel from the armoury and tuck the armoury log, the pouch of coins and the dark leather bottle in it securely. By the time I finish packing, I hear the ship's bells above sound off. Manus, knuckles his brow and reports that the crates have been seucred in the waist topside on the Watch Dog. I scratch the thin beard on my chin and nod. Thinking of what else may be needed ashore, I remind myself to see Eric before the crates and myself head to Martinique.

[Black Syren]

She could feel her heart pounding hard in her breast as Mr. Pew told them they were going ashore and to fetch the crates to the deck. Tugging her forlelock she quickly moved after the men into the small room and looked about before watching the men move about to make room to heft the crates. Finally Paul decided that She and Owen she step out and allow he and Hingerty moved the first crate out and up to the deck.

Catching sight of her reflection in a small mirror as the men moved passed she stopped and stared hard, The tawny skin and gypsy wild mane of black tumbled about her, the blue green eyes bright in her face. She gasped as Owen nudged her and pointed to another crate and she moved quickly to heft it and follow him out and up to the deck.

Owen teased her all the way up to the deck and she took his ribbing good naturedly. Afterall it had been awhile since she had truly seen her own visage. Though tanned by the sea, she still looked young compared to the Doxies down below. Placing her crate upon the deck she could not resist looking over the rail and peering at the redhead who was vying for Owens attention. The redhead seemed startled by the youth of her face as she peered over and tilted her head studying them before quickly pulling away and following after Owen and the others to retrieve the last two crates.

Still she could not help but wonder how she truly looked and if she looked well enough to step on shore. Perhaps she would have time to at least re-braid her hair…Nay, she would not do so, She was beginning to sound Vain. Allright well maybe she was just a little bit. Owen quickly informed Paul and Hingerty of catching her staring in the mirror and she flushed under their perusal and kept her head down, But only Owen laughed. Paul and Hingerty stayed silent and she was quite thankful. Helping with the last crate she and Owen followed the other two and deposited it besides the former two and waited for further instruction.

[Pew]

As I climbed topside, I passed the Captain and spoke to him briefly about reporting to the Marines and men in charge. He ushered me to the quarterdeck as we spoke of those men and women of the Watch Dog spread out now upon three ships. I saw Miss McDonough and nodded as she brushed the curls from her hair and smiled. I pointed my finger as if to say “just one minute.”

“Captain, with your permission o’ course, I’d like ta make a change o’ those marines on duty.” We stopped at the railing and leaned out over the bay of Cul de Sac. Looking towards shore we could see the docks of Fort Royal just north of us. The Captain stood upright and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Continue Mister Pew.”

“Well sah, currently Mister Franklin is currently aboard the Maastricht. I’d like t’ ‘ave ‘im aboard here as we go ashore.” The Captain nodded as if agreeing and wanted me to continue. “Mister Flint ‘s mos’ prepared an’ could well lead th’ men guarding the prisoners at Eric’s post.” He turned and walked towards the larboard side to get a better view of the Maastricht. I continued, “Mister Flint would then ‘ave Jerrod, Manus, Louis and young John aloft.”

“What about the Heron then? Who would be aboard her in Mister Flint and Mister Styles’ stead?”

“Well sah, Mister Smyth and Mister Roche ‘ould remain aboard. An’ with Harold and Lucky Tuck aboard I feel she’d be well manned should anythin’ ‘appen.” The Captain rubbed his chin and then continued.

“I see Mister Pew. Then how shall we then man the Maastricht with Mister Flint until those prisoners go ashore?”

“Mister Styles ‘ould remain with Bill. Manus and Louis would be aboard ‘s well. That’d leave John aloft jus’ ‘n case. I figure I’d take Claude, Robert and Paul ashore with us t’ ‘nload th’ crates. Claude o’ course could do it alone.” Captain William Brand laughed. A true laugh that one could find contagious and make you want to smile.

“Mister Pew how would secure our dear canine sir?”

“Ahhh, the Watch Dog sah?” He laughed and nodded. “Right, sah. Eric would ‘ave Ciaran, Alan, and Siren aboard.”

I waited as the Captain mulled over the shift in crew among the Watch Dog’s fleet. The Captain began to nod after a brief moment. He began to speak, but I cut him off,

“Beggin your pardon and with your permission sah, I’d like t’ let th’ marines know among ‘r fleet afore we ‘ead ashore.”

The Captain nodded. “Very well. Make haste Mister Pew. We have much business to attend to in Fort Royal. Take St. Christopher and make your rounds. We’ll be waiting.”

I knuckled a salute and caught the Captain off guard.

“As you were Mister Pew. Carry on.”

I departed the Captain’s company and leaped down the steps. I came upon Miss McDonough quickly and may have startled her. “Sorry me lady, a bit o’ work afore we leave. Might ye ‘ave a moment t’ spare? Be right back.” With that, I called for James, Jonas, and Pascal to ready the longboat to go among the Heron and the Maastricht.

A loud splash and then a call for me makes the St. Christopher ready for her brief trip. As I travel among the three ships I call together the crew and make known the shift of watches. Marines scramble into the longboat and back out again repeatedly. To the Maastricht, Eric finds it funny to find the Master-at-arms in his clothing.

“I thought I saw myself ‘eading across the Bay. Mister Franklin is it?” He calls from the gun’le. “Aye, Mister Pew is it?” I call back. The crew at the rail erupts in laughter. The longboat approaches and the chains are secured. Scrambling up the rope ladder to the waist of the Maastricht, Eric and I clasp hands and then forearms.

“Good to see you mate,”he says.

“Aye.” I reply. I grab the seams of the slops and shrug, “A tankard ‘r two mayhaps?”

He laughs, “No worries Preston, no worries.”

He and I head to the quarterdeck and I explain the change to duties to those marines spread among the three ships in the Watch Dog fleet.

“A request Mister Pew.” Eric asks.

“O’ course Mister Franklin.”

“Might a Sergeant-at-arms take his Master up on his offer while here at anchor?”

“Offer?" I ask. Eric looks at my clothing and smiles, "Yes, Eric. Absolutely.” With that, we begin the change of marines aboard the Maastricht. Eric and I head back to the Watch Dog and return to the holy ground in the presence of Miss McDonough and the Captain.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin had parted company with Mister Pew and headed to the berth deck to ready herself for her time ashore with Mister Pew. She washed as well as she could with what rags she had. Quickly changed from her slops and blood stained shirt into the only other clothing she had in her possession. The over sized shirt and breeches and brown waistcoat. The past few days sailing to Martinique had afforded her some time for herself. She had folded and tucked and pleated the waistcoat in a several places stitching them lightly to size the thing closer to her own. It would have to be altered once her hand was up to task. The effects of the folded extra fabric created a bulk that covered her feminine form making her look boyish. She had also pleated the waist of the breeches allowing her to walk freely without fear of losing them. The length was nearly to her ankle so she rolled them up to a more acceptable length over her shapely legs. Looking down past the poorly fitted clothing to her bare feet in the beat up shoes she thought. "I shall enjoy havin some new tings fer m'self."

Once dressed she gathered what possessions she thought she would need on shore, tucked them in various safe places and headed above again. She stopped as she passed the looking glass to pull her tresses back and pinned them in place with a chipped tortes shell comb. Her face was no longer peeling from her burn. However, the sun kept her complexion ruddy. On his way past for more of the crates that were to be taken ashore Paul stopped abruptly after passing her and turned in disbelief. "Murin?! What are ye lookin like a lad for? " he paused sizing her up as he laughed lightly. "Stay here." He trotted further into the berth where the crew slept and came back just as quickly. In his hand he held a simple brown cocked hat. Placing it on her head he said "Now, you be safe thar lass." Murin smiled as he headed for the hold to retrieve another crate.

Pulling the hat more tightly to her head she found that the it fit well over the hair she had piled on top of her head. Checking her self in the looking glass she was surprised by the curly topped lad starring back at her from beneath the hat.

Moving on she headed amidship and waited for Mister Pew leaning against the rail watching the long boats in the water below. The hat helped tame the wild curls but still the strong breezes were just enough to pull one or two free time and again. Every so often one of the crew would glance by her then take a second look trying to place the lad, only to gain recognition after seeing the familiar motion of her tucking a curl behind her ear yet again. She would flash them a amused smile as recognition set in and they would continued on. She was enjoying the day and did not mind the wait. Mister Pew was speaking with the captain when he saw her there and signaled. Again she took note of the captain. He was dressed for business ashore, a satchel slung over his shoulder. The black frock coat suited him but as she looked at him she knew that she would like to make him another. Perhaps one of a moss green? Rust? ...OH! With the color of his eyes a brilliant blue would due nicely!

[William Brand]

William discovered Miss McDonough looking him up and down and cocked an eyebrow in her direction. She flushed a little, and William looked down at himself to see what could have drawn her attention, but remiss to discover her interest, he fixed her with a smile and turned to the Master-at-Arms.

"Mister Pew, gather your men at the longboat to go ashore."

"Aye, aye!" The Captain of Marines, turned on his heel and barked out orders to a handful of chosen men as he went down the ladder to the main deck.

William sent for Miss Smith to have her send for Mister Warren, but upon her arrival, he changed his mind. He smiled then, as he was want to when enjoying some inner thought, and he tipped his hat to her. "Miss Smith, the ship is yours."

For a moment she looked as if she hadn't heard him at all, but then a smile replaced her blank expression. "Thank you, Captain." She said solemnly, and the shadow of a previous life passed over her entire countenance.

"Let no tradesmen below deck. They may come aboard to barter with Mister Lasseter when he returns, but no tradesmen below decks. You may entertain them as you see fit amidships..." William said, and paused. "Mister Dorleac! Come here, lad!"

Jean Dorleac came running over from below the Fo'c'sle deck and ascended the stairs at once. "Yes, sah?"

"You are to fetch hand and foot for Miss Smith in my absence. Steward to a Steward. Do you understand?"

"Aye, sah!"

William turned again to Tudor. "See that the lookouts watch horizons and shorelines, but not for taverns or boarding houses. Remind them that the navies of the world are restless."

"Aye, Captain."

"Very goode, Miss Smith." he said, nodding, and he turned to cup his hands at the rail. "Send word to Mister Lasseter that the Captain and company are gone ashore!"

"Aye, aye!" Bill Flint returned from across the water from where he stood on the Maastricht's forward decks.

Then William went down to the waiting longboat and the crew aboard her. He took a seat at the front as it pushed off from the 'Dog. the boat began to bob at once in the soft waves of the Cul du Sac Royal. The sweeps fell quickly into step and the small boat moved past the fyne women and the tradesmen who bid for their chance to come aboard.

Back on the quarterdeck, Jean Dorleac turned to Tudor. "Five shares for a Steward..." he thought aloud, patting an imaginary purse.

"Get along you impish monkey." she said, chiding him in good humors.

~Larboard Watch on Duty~