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| Warm sea, hot sun, and no ship run aground | |
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| Topic Started: 9 Sep 2009, 12:42 AM (693 Views) | |
| Tobias Bailey | 9 Sep 2009, 12:42 AM Post #1 |
Ordinary Seaman
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It was still rather early in the morning when His Majesty's Ship Dolphin caught its first sight of the port. A day before there was an interesting claim that two of the midshipmen made, sealed in white chalk on their tablets, the messiest writing that a world had probably ever seen. It was indeed the most amazing a discovery that should have baffled the modern world. Of them one was named Mister Bailey, and the other Mister McCoy. Bailey, had been at first much more eager to try copy his result from a midshipman more able, than to confront any numbers himself. But with, what he had deemed a very inappropriate and unhelpful, if not downright rude behavour of Mr. Jones, who refused and hindered any attempt to take notes, the task proved more strenuous by the moment. He wished only to compare, of course, as Mr. Bailey had whispered insistently into the lad's ear. Mr. Jones was anything but convinced and not very impressed, keeping his neatly scrawled on tablet close to his chest. With the opportunity lost, the brown haired boy spent a while marking an outline of the unfriendliest lad that side of the world, and chuckled as the little figure was drawn - with a poor hand, but heart - running in terrible fright from a shark, wailing and waving his hands in a blur. "Mr. Bailey. I assume you are aware what the content of our lesson at present, is?" Damn the man who could sneak so silently behind another! His tablet cluttered to the ground and with it the white chalk, rolling a very short distance from his shoe. "..Aye, sir." He wiped a hand across the dark surface, while he was picking it up and gazed at Mister Hammonds. "We are to decide... calculate.. uh.. it's the.. our location that we are to find." There, the picture was half gone. Another good scrub of his sleeve - which hadn't been meant for such use, and the tablet was ready. "I'll shall ask that you to get to it,..presently!" With a quick nod and a hurried snatching of his chalk, a tongue tucked between his lips in concentration, he began what was a rather disorganised bit of scribbles. And then he was done at last! Numbers crossed one another, mixed with those which he first started to scribble. It was all a bundle of lines, bends and crosses, and the result, underlined thickly and marked with another round circle. "... You've placed us in London, Mister Bailey. Does this remind you of Thames?" Flustered the lad shook his head. McCoy to his left grumbled. "And you too, Mister McCoy?" Jones stifled his laughter under the palm of his hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the terrible mistake both boys had done. Silly sods! London! Ha, that was a laugh! It was Mister Jones also, who received all the praise for his fine, clean work, an exact number, or as near a one as the lad was expected to get. -- And so it was the next day, early morning, which found the brown eyed midshipman perched comfortably against the railing, gazing out to sea. "Mister Bailey! " The deep baritone carried easily across the deck. The midshipman in question allowed himself no disturbing as he flipped a page of his book. -- "What is the meaning of this?" "..He seems to be bound to his hammock, sir." The boy answered, the corner of his mouth ready to curl into a grin. "Yes, I'm quite glad you have the uncanny skill of observation... of the obvious..." The lieutenant looked sourly at the lad, his expression promising no space for humour, nor amusement. "...Aye, sir." Jones glared venomously at Bailey, half freed from his confinements. "...well, he's only missed breakfast.. sir." With another glare his best decision so far was to hold his tongue where it couldn't do any more damage, preferably motionless. "Good grief.." The lieutenant shook his head, glad that in a few hours they were rid of the young miscreant. -- At last! With all his belongings folded, thrust, laid in or in one manner or other, shoved and pushed into his sea chest, he was ready to heave himself into the boat that would take him the last bit of the way, not into London but merely the port town of Kingston. Mister Jones still looked on with a sour look on his face, having not yet forgotten nor forgiven. Bailey on the other hand grinned, excited of his new adventure, complaining hotly about the terribly sunny weather, but first and foremost just annoyed that the boat could not have gone faster. -- "...there it' done. " With his sea-chest stashed away at a tavern not too far from where the ships were moored, he had, till he was received by his appointed new ship, all the time to explore and hope find his bearings of Kingston. Which was about what he was trying to do at that very moment, entering a street, he'd picked by a guess and the most promising sights. "Port or starboard... eh, left o' right.." He mused, peering at each side in turn. If only the ground would've felt a bit less shaky, and the air less hot. Now, if he were to add, the smells were rather distinct as well. |
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| James Slater | 9 Sep 2009, 05:25 PM Post #2 |
Signals and Bunting
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Being ashore, Slater thought, provided many opportunities. The opportunity to roam as he pleased, the opportunity to watch the ships and boats move about the harbour, and most importantly, the opportunity to find good, filling food. A hearty meal was one of the best-loved things to young midshipmen, who were ever hungry. Officially, Slater and a party of seamen had been sent ashore with some empty beef casks to get them refilled, but it would take some time for that. He had cautioned the men not to drink, knowing full well that they would sneak least one tankard in before he returned, and left them in the charge of the boatswain's mate who'd come ashore with them. Then, striving to not seem too eager, Slater trotted off to find something to eat. He was humming 'Nancy Dawson' to himself when he spied a boy in a blue coat, much like his own. A grin turned up the corners of his mouth. Another midshipman? There were no other midshipman from Victoria ashore and it didn't look like any of the middies from Portland or Defiant, and Cornwall was away on patrol. Which meant this fellow was new. Slater's grin broadened. Which meant he was ripe for some sport. "You there!" Slater called, doing his best to keep from slipping into his usual dialect. He could save the confusion that would cause for later. "Midshipman. Come here." If only Nate Quinn was here too. It would be twice as fun with him about. Slater schooled his expression into something resembling blank neutrality, but he wanted nothing more than to laugh. This would be grand! |
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| Tobias Bailey | 9 Sep 2009, 06:15 PM Post #3 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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The lass carrying a basket full of fruit was a pretty sight to see, her skin darkened by the sun, her hip in a subtle sway. It brought a boyish grin to Mister Bailey's face. If he hadn't turned just then he might've bumped into a tall man, of a fairly filled waist, a belly over which the fabric strained, layers of it dampened by sweat. He leaned across a little, bargaining for the price of a handful of things. Most already with a price too high for their worth. With himself safely out of the way he noted the girl gone, only a handful of men now seeking a shade or going about their business. The street proved to hold a few run down buildings - what his opinion was of the matter -, faded walls and salt cracked doors that were closed at the moment. When he was about to start towards a sign, promising to offer a drink and some food, a voice called, distinct above all the sounds of the town. "You there!" Not something that would have the boy turn. Probably some prat had stolen an article of the stand and was now called on his deed. He ignored it, adjusting his coat. "Midshipman. Come here." He had a thought to continue on his way. Surely a maritime town would hold plenty of midshipmen in its streets. Albeit they would have to be those who had been given shore leave or as he, the ones who had had business or leisure to conduct. His feet took their steps forward and his buckles shone in the sun, disturbing a bird perched atop one of the roofs. The feathered creature squaked hopped a bit to the side, fluffed up its feathers and at last flew off, to preen its feathers elsewhere. Had he seen any midshipmen when he passed that girl? No, he could not recall any blue coats, smart looks and messy heads. Did he see one infront of him, well, by god if he was blind he could answer that question! The voice wasn't quite low enough to be a lieutenant's but... if only his curiosity had left him be, perhaps he would not turn and look over his shoulder in the direction of the earlier shout. No surprise it was then, that he spotted a lad, young but smartly dressed, a distinct middie's coat if there was ever one! What did he want? There wasn't any other way but to meet him, to find that out. He brushed at his brow, the little of the sweat that gathered there, and approached the calm looking boy, a neutral expression on his face equaling the earlier of his voice. "Indeed, a midshipman..at your service." He said with a half bow, more comical than serious. |
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| James Slater | 9 Sep 2009, 07:00 PM Post #4 |
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Signals and Bunting
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It seemed at first that the other midshipman had not heard him. That would not do, Slater thought, that would not do at all. He started forward but had only gone a few steps when he saw the other boy turn. Now that was better. Satisfied that his hail had been heard and was now being answered, Slater stopped and waited. "Indeed, a midshipman..at your service." Slater very nearly tittered at that, amused by the lad's formality. But it simply would not do to break his calm countenance yet. He eyed the other middie's well-tailored coat and wondered where he'd gotten it fitted. His own coat needed altering, for the sleeves were an inch too short now. "Slater," he said, ignored the boy's boy and instead offering his hand. "What ship?" He was all but certain that this fellow was not from any of the squadron's ships, but that did not necessarily mean anything. There was a Navy brig taking on stores after its brief foray to Port Royal, in readiness for the return journey to England. Maybe that was where this middie had come from. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 9 Sep 2009, 07:37 PM Post #5 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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While he waited for a reply the young midshipman had a more thorough look of the boy. It was always best to remember the face of the person with whom one exchanged conversation. There was much to learn by the sole appearance of a man, boy or a representative of the female gender, gaining knowledge and an impression which could later prove either correct or incorrect. The lad's sleeves looked a little too short. The coat must've been sewn for him when he had been younger and hadn't been tempered with since. Was he here long? If he could judge by the coat's appearance, worn and somewhat lighter thanks to the constant exposure to the bright sun, he would say that he was. Bailey straightened. Compared to new boy, his own coat was considerably newer. Sleeves were just the right length, the colour fresh and strong, his buttons could do with an additional rub, but that was just too much time wasted for a repetitive task. There were quite a few buttons on the coat, for one! "Slater," Well, that cleared the identity of the lad, though he had yet to link it to a ship's name. He extended his own hand and shook it with the boy, replying with a simple. "Bailey." Without the traditional. "Pleased to meet you." or something along those lines. "What ship?" "Depends." He answered to that. A former or future ship? There was none that had his belongings stashed in it's belly at present. He dropped his arm to his side, fingering the handkerchief in his pocket and tucking it in further. No use loosing it, really. "Came with the Dolphin." He waved towards the direction in which the port was, as if a mere glance at the disarray of masts, rigging and rope, could easily point to the right ship. "Headed for..." There it was, the name he hadn't bothered to remember yet. There would've been enough time once he was aboard. Would have heard the name said plenty of times, the Tars called it, the lieutenants pointing it out. He slipped his hand into his pocket again and from it pulled a small, folded piece of paper, showing lines where it has been folded, refolded, sat on and at one time attempted to straighten out. "... Victoria. That should be it." He tapped the name, written in a fine hand that was certainly not his. |
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| James Slater | 9 Sep 2009, 11:45 PM Post #6 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Bailey," the other midshipman replied, returning Slater's handshake. "Came with the Dolphin." Dolphin. Slater couldn't think of any vessel he knew by that name. Bailey's vague gesture toward the crowded harbour did nothing to help clarify that matter, either. It was probably a sloop-of-war anyway, with a name like that. Bailey was fishing around in his pockets. "Headed for... Victoria. That should be it." "Victoria, eh?" Slater felt his impassive expression crumbling. So they were to have a new addition to their mess? This would certainly be fun. "Fine posting, Old Vic is. Best midshipmen's mess in the squadron, and that's no lie!" He checked himself and cleared his throat. "You've had your dunnage set across to her already?" Introductions would need to be made and Slater was positive that their admiral would tolerate no delay or dallying from any officer in coming aboard, newly-arrived midshipman or not. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 10 Sep 2009, 08:16 AM Post #7 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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There was no doubt, and if he considered it, this could only have been logical, that Slater knew the ship. What he did learn and guess though was, that Victoria wasn't just a ship he may have seen in port, nor one he had set his foot on once, but that Slater knew it more personally and for a longer time. How else could he have praised the mess if he had never been witness of it there? Who would have praised and thought a midshipmen's mess of another ship so much better than his own? Sure there were cases in which an opinion varied, but never so greatly that one would call something not his own the best. "Fine posting, Old Vic is. Best midshipmen's mess in the squadron, and that's no lie!" And that was to be seen yet. He returned his note back into his pocket, folded again so that it took least space possible. He was hungry having foolishly skipped his last meal. It was a lesson learnt that no matter how excited one was and where he was to go, or how many things were yet to be stashed in his chest, nor how many midshipmen were called Jones and were eager to make an attempt of a 'favour' returned, food was to be eaten. A midshipman was always hungry, wasn't he? It was a crime, should've been written in the Articles with a just punishment for it, for any midshipman who would have skipped a meal! And a surgeon would've needed to be sent, for when something of that sort happened, the poor thing had to be feeling exceptionally terrible or possessed, near the brink of death! The thought had his lip curl upward in an amused smile. Distracted that he was with it, he still managed not to miss Slater's next question. "You've had your dunnage set across to her already?" It was only that he took a while to answer, making the reply all the more awkward. He shook his head no and looked up, his belly picking the time to make a most embarrassing low growl. With his cheeks coloring red he looked about as if seeking the source of such a strange sound, a beast that could not have been of this world, surely. He raised his hand to the back of his neck and tugged his hair free. Had he really left it stuck under the ribbon of silk that was neatly tied about his neck? It was hot enough that he could loosen the fabric a little. An impression would be less than perfect, but for the comfort it was worth to risk it. "Well, .." Another, much softer and quiter rumble had the lad look bemused. Trully now, where was this creature that made such a sound. He made a sweep of their surroundings then shrugged. "I have 'em at the tavern, what's its name.. right by the seaside. Has a heavy, sea trodden door on her, one glass window is cracked a bit,..that one. A real friendly keeper, and... think it has some odd bird stiff as a board, on the shelf. " He hoped the description my light some recognition in the lad. If it didn't they could still go there and have things arranged. Well, only after a meal, right? "You're posted on Victoria, aren't you?" He asked. Though he was as certain he dared bet all his fortune on it and ten days of meals, it should've been only right to ask. Know where he stood. |
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| James Slater | 10 Sep 2009, 03:00 PM Post #8 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Well, .." Bailey began, shrugging. "I have 'em at the tavern, what's its name.. right by the seaside. Has a heavy, sea trodden door on her, one glass window is cracked a bit,..that one. A real friendly keeper, and... think it has some odd bird stiff as a board, on the shelf." Ah, that was easy enough. Slater knew the place even if he didn't frequent it himself. He nodded. "I know the place. I'll have a couple hands sent to fetch it." That naturally led to Bailey's question of "You're posted on Victoria, aren't you?" Slater beamed. "Course! Fine big ship with plenty enough room for gettin' about in. Nothing like those crammed-up frigates or foul little sloops, no sir!" He looked over Bailey's shoulder and pointed at a place some way up the street. All this talk was making his interest in finding food sharper than ever. "What d'thoo say to some tuck? Ain't had nowt but minnin'-on since 'fore lowsin' off ship, so I'm fair brussen for a collop. C'mon, there's a place yond where they make 'em for me, they do." In his eagerness, he had slipped into what the other middies called 'northern gibberish'. The realisation made him blush. "Sorry. I mean I know a place that puts out a good spread. If you're hungry, anyway." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 10 Sep 2009, 05:46 PM Post #9 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Course! Fine big ship with plenty enough room for gettin' about in. Nothing like those crammed-up frigates or foul little sloops, no sir!" "Been on a small one like that. Had to duck real proper sometimes, not me as much though of course. But them Jack Tars. If they were running or in a hurry to get to places. There's been some colourful cursing then." He grinned. "Could've gotten some of them in proper..." "What d'thoo say to some tuck? Ain't had nowt but minnin'-on since 'fore lowsin' off ship, so I'm fair brussen for a collop. C'mon, there's a place yond where they make 'em for me, they do." H'what?! Bailey blinked, had to blink again as he attempted to process what for a moment he didn't even think was English. One moment the lad spoke fair well and the other he was chattering away, leaving the other middie trying to follow suit. His face cleared at a simpler explanation and he grinned. "Sumthing to eat? I'm a midshipman, aren't I? Poorly fed, for months and a day. " Well that was exaggerating and feeding the usual stereotype, but he was hungry enough! "Are you lot any different here?" He shook his head, as if to scold the other lad, though he was grinning, his face bright: "Why haven't your mentioned that sooner!" There was no doubt where they'd be going. Any fancy dressed officer would have to wait, because the midshipmen were having their fill first! No question about it! Be damned if that meant they would've gotten there late. "All for it! I'll trust your word on the good service. Haven't been here long enough to even see much of these streets, let alone go eat in some." |
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| James Slater | 11 Sep 2009, 03:25 PM Post #10 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Been on a small one like that. Had to duck real proper sometimes, not me as much though of course. But them Jack Tars. If they were running or in a hurry to get to places. There's been some colourful cursing then. Could've gotten some of them in proper..." Tars were incurable heathens, Slater thought, nodding, but they were delightful heathens despite their vulgarity. He had learned a lot from them when he had been a ship's boy and continued to learn from them now, even though he was a midshipman. "Sumthing to eat? I'm a midshipman, aren't I? Poorly fed, for months and a day. Are you lot any different here?" Bailey grinned. "Why haven't your mentioned that sooner! All for it! I'll trust your word on the good service. Haven't been here long enough to even see much of these streets, let alone go eat in some." "Course not!" Slater returned the grin. He was pleased to have discovered a new midshipman before any of Victoria's officers did. "Come on then, or you'll be left half behind!" He was already trotting forward, led on by his quietly-grumbling stomach. The thought of a freshly-fried collop had reminded him just how long it had been since he had last eaten - a full four hours! - and it was time to put that to rights. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 11 Sep 2009, 06:43 PM Post #11 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Come on then, or you'll be left half behind!" Left behind? When food was involved? Slater could well forget it, because he was not going to shake him off till he was well fed and drank enough to break the heat. The damn weather made him feel positively cooked. Sun over scorching sun, if ever there was a time for the cool weather of his home, it was now that he appreciated it. Too late. He quickened his pace to keep up with the other midshipman, glad he had met with another from his new post and that he seemed a pleasant sort. Could judge a ship by what officers it had, and could judge his mess well enough by the middies he met from it. If the rest were anything like Slater than the large vessel would prove to lead to a fine adventure. "Won't trust you to get ahead! There might be no food left, else!" He grinned and wiped some sweat from his brow, had lifted his head to ruffle his hair a bit, to lift it from his head. Pulling his hat back on properly he moved past a group of men, which stood in the way of both midshipmen on their most important mission. The establishment came gradually into view, details outlined better as the distance became smaller. "Is there ever a time when the blasted heat is any better?" He asked and cleared his throat. Hadn't meant to speak in such manner, but moving in haste was sure to make him feel hotter. |
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| James Slater | 14 Sep 2009, 11:05 PM Post #12 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Won't trust you to get ahead! There might be no food left, else!" With a laugh, Slater forgot his dignity and ran the last yards to the tavern. There was no chance of the Blue Monkey running out of food. The whole midshipmen's mess had eaten here more than once and had not been able to come close to cleaning out the tavern's stores. "Is there ever a time when the blasted heat is any better?" Oh yes, the heat was overwhelming to the newly-arrived. Slater had gotten used to it and rarely noticed it anymore. "Come on," he called over his shoulder as he pushed open the heavy wooden door. "It's better in here. It only gets cooler at night, but it's prettier at night anyway." He led the way to his usual table, tucked close to the kitchens and wasted no time sitting down, tossing his hat carelessly onto the table top. "Ask for a collop when Molly comes 'round," he advised as he tipped the chair back onto two legs. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 15 Sep 2009, 07:08 AM Post #13 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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Not to be outdone, Bailey ran after the other midshipman, slipping around a few people that were in the way, and under two that were carrying a heavy burden between them. He'd nearly lost his had at that, and broke into laughter as the muttering and cursing that it had caused. Nothing dropped, nothing lost, and he was with Slater again and right at the door as he was entering. All the effort of running of course, made him feel even more hot under the woolen coat. It felt rather dark inside, compared to how bright the streets were and the lad had to blink a couple of times as his eyes adjusted. He sought to follow Slater, passing among tables to reach the one so close to the kitchen. If anything he could already smell what being prepared inside, for others. It looked rather promising. Hungry as he was, the smells almost convinced him it would be no crime if he were to have a peek in the kitchens. Just a very small peek with something to take with him! But first impressions really didn't need to end in him making such a spectacle of himself, so he sat, his hat off and tucked to the left of him on the table. He eased his neck tie somewhat and grinned. "Well, 'tis cooler here, I must grant you that." "Ask for a collop when Molly comes 'round," If the midshipman wasn't careful he'll be tipped backwards with that chair. Bailey sat upright a little. This wasn't a time for mischief and accidental nudging! He glanced towards the serving girl. She has just served another table before she moved towards the pair, with a natural sway of her hips. It was obvious that Mr. Slater would be recognised and greeted first, and following Slater's advice Bailey did ask for. "..Collop please, Miss." |
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| James Slater | 15 Sep 2009, 04:00 PM Post #14 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Well, 'tis cooler here, I must grant you that." "Aye, cooler and much more comfortable," Slater agreed. It was more comfortable in large part because of the table he had chosen, but being so close to the kitchens made that part inevitable. He grinned at Molly as the girl approached the table and offered his usual greeting. "Ay up, lass. Ows ta bin?" Molly grinned back. "Oh, fair t' middlin, like. Whit can Ah git fre ye boys?" "..Collop please, Miss," Bailey told her. "The usual for me," Slater added. Molly nodded and bustled off directly to the kitchen. When she was gone, Slater chuckled. "Hope you like good strong beer, too. They don't serve rum here and the ale is somewhat flat." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 15 Sep 2009, 05:57 PM Post #15 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"The usual for me," It had the youth arch an eyebrow in question at that. He'd expected Slater to take the same as he, else he wouldn't have suggested it. He shrugged, he wouldn't inquire just because it was something different. He was perhaps more curious to see what the middie would eat though. To finish his thoughts, all revolving around food , and answer to the: "Hope you like good strong beer, too. They don't serve rum here and the ale is somewhat flat.", he turned to face the young midshipman instead. "Will drink anything as long as it ain't pure water." He made a face at the thought. " Well, almost anything. " He wouldn't brag himself to be eager to try some of the drinks that the locals might create and would be unheared of from where he came. "So, tell me. How's that ship of yours?" And soon to be theirs, once he'd report to it. He needed to find where he'd packed the recommendation papers and where he had the package containing anything that might be of interest on his previous service. He wondered if he could sneak himself a peak there, see if there was anything in need of rendering to, something better of course. "The crew? The officers. I solemnly swear I'll not be a'telling anyone. Middie's honour." He chuckled and held his hand up as if swearing by an imaginary book, that he'd have held or held onto with his other hand. He was better to keep his own book stored away, the covers were boring enough, although the content was, rather unrelated to its title. He grinned. "How long have you served on her too, of course?" He added. |
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| James Slater | 15 Sep 2009, 08:45 PM Post #16 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Will drink anything as long as it ain't pure water," Bailey said, then grimaced. "Well, almost anything." Slater chuckled. They could definitely have some fun with this lad. 'Almost anything' left a lot of room for manoeuvring. "So, tell me. How's that ship of yours? The crew? The officers. I solemnly swear I'll not be a'telling anyone. Middie's honour." How very likely. Bailey lifted a hand as if swearing formal oath. "How long have you served on her too, of course?" Slater couldn't help grinning back. "The crew's all right, mostly. The usual lot of good hands and hopeless cases. An excellent set of warrants and petty officers too. Most of 'em came following Cap'n Elliot. I've been with her for 'bout gone two year now. The rest of it, you'll be seein' when you get aboard too." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 15 Sep 2009, 09:13 PM Post #17 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"The crew's all right, mostly. The usual lot of good hands and hopeless cases. An excellent set of warrants and petty officers too. Most of 'em came following Cap'n Elliot. I've been with her for 'bout gone two year now. The rest of it, you'll be seein' when you get aboard too." Well that was not as helpful as he had hoped. He wouldn't have minded if the boy had gone more into detail. Good hands and hopeless cases , just like any other ship, but then what could he have expected? That this new ship would have a different story? That men would be so strangely different as the hot land was to his usual regions of sail? Perhaps he had expected them to resemble the land to which they were bound. "Have there been any sickness aboard?" He asked, not sounding as a learnt surgeon would, though neither was he trying. "Is it your first ship?" He inquired curiously, wondering where the lad had come from, though thinking it improper to ask directly. His tummy decided to warn him that it was still empty that it was also quite impatient to see what was to be served. He wet his lips and realised that not only was he hungry but the heat had robbed him of water as well. A Beer would be a welcome treat. "Are us middies allowed shore leave often?" Another thing that would be more curious to him than study. He needn't know how frequent or demanding the lessons would be nor was he interested in learning when his first might begin. "How strict are the officers..?" He began and then grinned, looking rather apologetic. "I'll try to contain myself, apologies. Should have known better but to ask, as if I've been paying you for it!" |
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| James Slater | 22 Sep 2009, 03:15 PM Post #18 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Have there been any sickness aboard?" Bailey wanted to know. "Is it your first ship?" "Sickness... no. Not more than the usual bits of heat-sick and drunkenness. Our surgeon isn't so good, though. I'd recommend not getting ill or injured while aboard." Slater brushed some loose strands of hair back from his face and shrugged. He avoided the sawbones' company whenever he could. But Bailey didn't seem interested in that. Heh. He would be if he took ill... "Are us middies allowed shore leave often? How strict are the officers..?" The other middie paused and offered an apologetic grin. "I'll try to contain myself, apologies. Should have known better but to ask, as if I've been paying you for it!" Slater grinned back. "We get ashore more often when the admiral isn't aboard," he replied. "Absolute ox, he is. For ever badgering on about everything needing to be just this way or that way and two dozen strokes for a man who's half a step too slow running to holystone the decks... but that's the admiral. The captain and lieutenants aren't that bad. Thankfully. And no, this isn't my first ship, for which I'm sure I should be grateful." It was probably not so wise to talk so ill of their flag officer, especially not to a new middie. There was no telling which way the boy's loyalties might go once he got aboard and Slater had no interest in feeling the bite of the boy's cane simply because he was carelessly critical of a senior officer. Molly reappeared from the kitchens at that point anyway, which was a perfect distraction from conversation. "Collops fre ye lads," she said, setting the plates of steaming potatoes and meat down. "Ain't proper ones this tim', 'cause it's Ned workin' the galley stove, see? Daft bugger, 'im!" "It'll serve, Mol," Slater said, eying the food greedily. "It'll serve nice. A tot of beer for us both too?" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 22 Sep 2009, 07:25 PM Post #19 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Absolute ox, he is. For ever badgering on about everything needing to be just this way or that way and two dozen strokes for a man who's half a step too slow running to holystone the decks... but that's the admiral. The captain and lieutenants aren't that bad. Thankfully. And no, this isn't my first ship, for which I'm sure I should be grateful." Bailey's brow was arched slightly at those words, though no comment was yet made. The last statement was rather bold for any young man to say. Especially when in the company of another that he did not know the least of. Bailey pretended not to have given the words much attention, if by any means, the other lad had slipped. He would be sure to make an opinion of what that man was like himself. He'd seen different characters of the sort of captains that needed the services of his father, so he had no idealistic opinion of those superiors. There was the good, the bad and the average sort. "Thank you, miss." He said, distracted properly by the food served. Ah, it smelled nice, it looked tasty enough that he'd have forgotten himself and not waited a moment longer! He looked at Slater and grinned. "Aye, a tot would be just great." He sniffed the warm air rising from the made food. "Mmm, that's something to inspire, that it is." He wouldn't want to feel picky what food was concerned. Even less so, when the food that lay spread on his plate was the first he'd had that day! " So's as we were saying.. best to avoid the surgeon, right? Any suggestion what I should do, if I'm just as misfortunate to get sick or injured anyway?" He chuckled. "Not that I want that. Heard stories of them surgeons cutting of a perfectly good limb and only then realising that they'd been hackin' off the wrong one! Or having one doomed, when there's but a scratch on it. You've no idea how colourful they can get, least was so in our berth." |
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| James Slater | 7 Oct 2009, 02:00 AM Post #20 |
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Signals and Bunting
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Bailey gave an appraising sniff of the newly-arrived food and seemed to approve. "Mmm, that's something to inspire, that it is." Of course it was. Slater was already cutting into his own meal, most thought of decorum quite forgotten. The potatoes were done perfectly and he stuffed a heaping forkful into his mouth before realising that Bailey had gone on speaking. " So's as we were saying.. best to avoid the surgeon, right? Any suggestion what I should do, if I'm just as misfortunate to get sick or injured anyway? Not that I want that. Heard stories of them surgeons cutting of a perfectly good limb and only then realising that they'd been hackin' off the wrong one! Or having one doomed, when there's but a scratch on it. You've no idea how colourful they can get, least was so in our berth." The hunk of potato almost caught in his throat when he hurriedly swallowed it, only having chewed it half-way through. "Aye, best to avoid the surgeon," Slater confirmed, after managing to clear his throat. "Dunno as I've heard of him takin' off the wrong limb, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did!" Molly returned with their tankards, but bustled away quickly to attend to another table before Slater could thank her. Oh well. He took a grateful gulp of beer and added, "The surgeon over in Cornwall is pretty decent though, from what I've heard. So I suppose his skill balances out against Mister Beckwith's lack of skill." With a shrug, he tackled another hefty forkful of potato. As long as a fellow stayed healthy and uninjured, he need never see the sawbones. That was the important thing, wasn't it? |
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| Tobias Bailey | 7 Oct 2009, 09:21 PM Post #21 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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The poor midshipman near choked himself with that large chunk of potato that hadn't been properly chewed. Bailey hid his amusement behind the mug which appeared few moments later and concentrated on taking a few deep gulps from it, before he could set it back down. Collecting a bit of meat onto his knife, pinned down with a spoon he lifted it up to his mouth. Quickly the bits from his plate begun to disappear, the youth not even looking as if he'd notice them gone or eaten. "The surgeon over in Cornwall is pretty decent though, from what I've heard. So I suppose his skill balances out against Mister Beckwith's lack of skill." Explained Slater as if to make better the fact that theirs was a terrible sort. "Evens out, eh?..Don't know about that. Not unless we stay around the port where we can borrow one surgeon from the other. But if we don't , don't exactly think the knowledge that there's an experienced man elsewhere would do us much good." He grinned and stuffed his mouth full, chewed hurriedly and gulped the food down. "Better we just stay all in one piece and healthy. That'd do us best anyhow." He took another swig from his tankard and then leaned back a moment. "... is there anything I should be...so to say,.. particularly careful or attentive about?" He asked, ate and gulped and drank again. Just like any midshipman perhaps, who could do magic with food in the terms that it would all disappear rather quickly and the lad would still feel wanting more. |
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| James Slater | 10 Oct 2009, 10:30 PM Post #22 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Better we just stay all in one piece and healthy. That'd do us best anyhow." Slater nodded. That was the general feeling amongst the rest of the crew, including the midshipmen. He speared another bit of potato and made it swiftly disappear. Ned was an able cook, for all his not knowing how a real collop was made. "... is there anything I should be...so to say,.. particularly careful or attentive about?" "I'd say don't catch the admiral's notice, but that's nigh impossible. Don't do it a-purpose, at least. Keep mum 'less you're addressed and always look like you're doing something useful. He hates idleness, even excused idleness." There was a good bit more to impart, but Slater was too hungry to waste any more time explaining. He stuffed a steaming chunk of meat into his mouth and sighed happily. This really was good stuff. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 13 Oct 2009, 09:59 AM Post #23 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"I'd say don't catch the admiral's notice, but that's nigh impossible. Don't do it a-purpose, at least. Keep mum 'less you're addressed and always look like you're doing something useful. He hates idleness, even excused idleness." And that was it. Bailey expected that there was more than the unpleasantness of the Admiral, though it made him remember that bit of advice no less than if it were the only thing. Seeing the lad give his full concentration onto his food he too decided to finish his plate and his drink before he would inquire on more. There was many things to see, once boarding the new vessel anyway and possibly enough time at least to learn the ropes of the new ship even with what little time the midshipmen too often had. He poked at his food nudging some out of the way to be eaten after the rest and took a sip from the mug. It was as Slater suggested, a different sort of beer. Mulling over the little bits of conversation he barely noticed his plate turning empty. Applying a few bits of soft bread, something that felt like heaven to one's mouth after any hard food of the ships list,to the 'dirty' surface he left it nice and clean. He leaned back, enjoying - or drinking at least - the beer from his mug. He looked up, spared a curious glance at the ceiling. While waiting for Slater to finish in peace his thoughts strayed to wonder how the new ship might look like. Then it was merely considering whether the weather should hold a while, whether it would be gracious enough and rain. And then back it was to the streets and the few houses and shops he had seen. If there was something he needed to buy, it would be best he would do it then. "We're going for the ship right after this?" He asked, as silence dragged on a while. "Where's all the marines?" |
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| James Slater | 17 Oct 2009, 05:45 PM Post #24 |
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Signals and Bunting
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The last of his collop disappeared with a neat swipe of biscuit across the plate. His belly felt content, at least for now, Slater sat back and sipped at his beer. This meal would hold him only for a couple of hours before he got to be hungry again. As always. "We're going for the ship right after this?" Bailey asked, breaking the silence. "Where's all the marines?" Slater thought of the group of seamen he'd brought ashore and shrugged. The beef casks should be ready by now. They would have to return to the ship soon anyway, and it was better to be back aboard sooner instead of later if only to avoid a serious provocation of the admiral's temper. "Aye, might's well go back aboard presently," Slater answered lazily, finishing off his beer. He was less interested in replying to Bailey's second question about the marines. His opinion about those redcoated lubbers had been neutral at best until the news came that the Port Royal marines had mutinied. Now he viewed the marines as no better than something unpleasant that might be stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "The marines are loafing around aboard, or hiding in their barracks," he added after a moment. Might as well make sure Bailey knew about them now. "They're hardly worth noticing. The marines over in Port Royal mutinied not too long ago and a bunch of our squadron's marines had to go over there to get things back into order." The Yorkshireman shook his head. "Can't trust that lot at all!" |
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| Tobias Bailey | 21 Oct 2009, 09:24 AM Post #25 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Aye, might's well go back aboard presently," Well that settled it for what they meant to do once they payed for their drinks and food and set off on their way. He was certain Slater had arranged for his things to be carried to the new ship. If he dared admit to it, he was looking forward to finally setting foot on this new ship. See its make, the design, the handywork ah and of course, see the crew, the other fellow midshipmen and the officers which might make life miserable or fine. "The marines are loafing around aboard, or hiding in their barracks," It didn't feel as if his young guide fancied the marines all that much. Before he thought to ask why he had such a disapproving impression of the navy's toy soldiers, the answer came of its own. "They're hardly worth noticing. The marines over in Port Royal mutinied not too long ago and a bunch of our squadron's marines had to go over there to get things back into order." Mutinous marines? What on earth have they been thinking! The marines were not the sort to start trouble, it was the sailors that did! He didn't support even them if they thought to disobey and show defiance in such a manner but it sounded much more natural! It was why the marines stayed between the officers and the men. They would guard mutineers as they were arrested, they would defend the officers if the seamen had gone mad - which in his opinion a mutiny would be - but never would they be the cause for concern! "Can't trust that lot at all!" That was as true as the fact his plate was empty, his mug dry, his belly full for the moment, and his curiosity about the ship peaked. ".. seems so." He spoke at last. "Somebody's not doing their job if the marines are the ones involved in a mutiny." He shook his head. "Them Port Royalers ...the discipline must be disastrous. Atleast.. I hope, that t' culprits got their just deserts!" He nudged the mug and lifted it for a short inspection to confirm what he already knew. Empty. He shuffled his chair back a bit. As pleasant as the inside of the tavern was, they were really best to be up and going before the night fell. "Les' pay n' be on our way." He motioned to the door with a curt wave. "Before they send a search party." |
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| James Slater | 2 Nov 2009, 04:30 PM Post #26 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Somebody's not doing their job if the marines are the ones involved in a mutiny." Bailey declared. "Them Port Royalers ...the discipline must be disastrous. Atleast.. I hope, that t' culprits got their just deserts!" Slater smiled. “Aye, just so. I have heard they were treated as befitting criminals. Shot at a wall. Or so I have heard.” He shrugged. “They scarcely matter. Come, we had best be on our way. Molly, m’lass, I am obliged to your Ned for that delightful repast.” “Tha’ll be all fre ye boys?” Molly bustled over to collect the empty dishes and tankards. “Ned’ll be pleased, Ah ken, but ‘e still cannae make a proper collop!” “Some day, you shall have to set him right,” Slater said as he laid down the coins to pay for their meal. “Let’s be off, Bailey. I expect my shore party will have finished their own work by now.” Outside, the sun was perfectly blinding. Slater shaded his eyes even after slipping his hat back on, blinking several times until his vision adjusted again to the glare. “I shall have to send a couple men to retrieve your dunnage as well. They’ll know the place. Mister Barlow!” He called out, spotting the boatswain’s mate. “Send two hands to fetch Mister Bailey’s dunnage, if you please. He is lodged at the Dead Parrot.” Barlow saluted. “Aye sir.” He chose two men and sent them on their way. Slater grinned at his new mess-mate. It was always good to receive fresh blood to the berth, after all. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 9 Nov 2009, 09:52 PM Post #27 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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“Let’s be off, Bailey. I expect my shore party will have finished their own work by now.” Following those words Bailey stood, dusted his hat as if it needed any dusting, and then tucked it neatly atop of his head. The room that they've been had felt dark earlier but now it was a pleasant sort of gloomy, much lighter with a greater bit of detail, that's for sure. He reached into his pocket so that he would pay, when he saw that Slater's money covered the meal for both. He studied him undecided whether he still ought to give, but as the lad went for the door, decided to address that subject later. Just moments out the door and he had to lift his hand to cover his eyes, wait a few moments only to barely be able to open them. He was blinking furiously and felt his eyes become moist and tear up. Blinded by light as he was earlier somewhat disoriented by the dark. Could this place have nothing in moderation? A good sweet, cool wind would be splendid, thinking about it. I shall have to send a couple men to retrieve your dunnage as well. They’ll know the place. Mister Barlow!” "That would be just splendid ,yes." He smiled at his newly found messmate, mouthing it a moment before the man named Barlow was summoned. Then he studied the said person, trying to keep in memory, his face along with his name. “Send two hands to fetch Mister Bailey’s dunnage, if you please. He is lodged at the Dead Parrot.” He waited for the mate to be about on his duty before he met the grin with another of his own and spoke:" Just wondered who ever thought to call their place a Dead Parrot. Doesn't sound all that merry. That is, unless they've called it Dead Parrot after celebrating the death of a very talkative sort." He rubbed his eyes once more and then felt satisfied enough with the amount of light his eyes could receive. They've adapted squickly enough. "Got any more things you are about to be doing, or are we.." His grin broadened in the feeling of expectation. "going for the ship now? Would love to see her." There was no doubt about that. |
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| James Slater | 15 Nov 2009, 07:05 PM Post #28 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Got any more things you are about to be doing, or are we.. going for the ship now? Would love to see her." Slater grinned. "Just yon," he said and pointed out into the harbour. Victoria was impossible to miss, big three-decker that she was. The local fishing craft gave her a good, wide berth, which made her stand out even more. "We'll be goin' aboard directly, once your dunnage is brought in," he went on. "Then me an' the boys will get you settled in nice." Nate Quinn and the others would be more than happy to see a new fellow welcomed to their mess, Slater knew. As long as they kept away from the admiral's notice, it would be a right good time. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 16 Nov 2009, 08:04 AM Post #29 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"Just yon," He followed the hand indicating which ship he was to sail on and felt his heart swell with anticipation and excitement. That was certainly some ship! He kept on admiring the lines that were hers, the masts as well as the ropes that were not called ropes, all but one he could not see. The Bell rope. He grinned and felt that he could not tear his eyes of his new prize.. ah, the ship he would sail on and though it would bring less penny than a true prize ship would, it certainly brought more joy at serving on her deck. Already he was trying to decide and guess where she might've been made or atleast whether she had ever been mended in the dockyard he knew. Her design looked to take much of his mind off of other things. Such as the heat, the midshipman beside him and.. "We'll be goin' aboard directly, once your dunnage is brought in," He blinked and turned about, studying the lad quizzically. "Then me an' the boys will get you settled in nice." Oh! Right. He nodded, pushing bock hands at the pockets of his coat. " Splendid. She's quite a lady." He spoke of the ship. "I'll be honoured." He meant the settling in part and grinned. "And much oblieged. " He added with a small chuckle. "Come then. T' sooner we reach the sea, the sooner will be on her..'least I hope your men had found my things!" Edited by Tobias Bailey, 16 Nov 2009, 08:05 AM.
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| James Slater | 23 Nov 2009, 08:30 PM Post #30 |
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Signals and Bunting
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Slater grinned. "Aye, she is, that. She's better once you get aboard of her. C'mon, then!" The boat crew was already settling onto their benches, the refilled casks carefully lashed down in the centre of the boat. All that remained to be loaded was Bailey's dunnage and the two hands sent to fetch it. And the two midshipmen themselves, of course. Without preamble, Slater sprang down into the boat and took his usual place in the sternsheets. The patter of bare feet along the dock heralded the return of the two seamen sent for Bailey's dunnage. They would be on their way back to the ship shortly enough. Slater grinned. It was certainly a fine day! |
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| Tobias Bailey | 25 Nov 2009, 10:29 AM Post #31 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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Hopping into the boat after Slater, Bailey sat down. The sea had a very gentle, almost nonexistent sway, which stirred the boat so slightly that only the thickest landlubber might have had trouble with it. The lack of a breeze was evident in the stifling heat however. A lady at the port was seen waving away with her fan, while men who worked, and some of those who had only observed, had all shirts that clung to their backs in one way or another. Their faces glistened with sweat, some of the fairer skinned were with red faces glowing in the bright light. Bailey wiped sweat from his brow and adjusted the seat of his hat on top of his head. It offered some shade where the brims were curved, extending from its base. While the sailors were still gathering, and the pair had gone rushing of to bring back his dunnage he leaned to the side and looked at the water sparkling beneath. It was a different colour than what he had been used to and looked so inviting and cool. With a grin he pulled himself up and fought the temptation to try and reach into it. "Ah." He grinned, seeing his seachest at last being brought to the boat. His name was marked neatly on the side, though the ship's original name, would no longer have been there. "Careful there." He watched as the chest swayed precariously above the water's edge. No need to be fishing it out from the bottom of the sea now! With the added weight the boat tilted a little, and then adjusted it's angle again as the weight was more properly distributed to the centre of it. Last of the cargo seem to have been added without further ado. There were few people to stop and gaze at them, the reason for it quite possibly, that this was not anything but the common appearance. Though it had felt an exciting new adventure to the young Bailey, to others it would have been not even a step out of the ordinary. Barely could he contain his excitement now, tempted to ask that they'd have gone a round about the ship's side before ever even boarding her. Since the boat was moments from taking off and his friend would've been busy with any of the orders needed to set it on its course, he kept his silence. |
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| James Slater | 28 Nov 2009, 04:48 PM Post #32 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Cast off!" Slater ordered, once the sea-chest had been secured. "Out oars and give way all!" They were on their way back to the ship, at last. Slater tipped his hat back slightly on his head and felt distinctly pleased with himself. He had carried out his orders, gotten a comfortable bit of food in, and had met with the flagship's new midshipman. It was not a bad outing at all. "When we are aboard," the midshipman said to his companion, "we will have to report directly to the officer of the watch. He will see that you are properly entered into the books. Then, if there is nothing else desired, you will go below to meet the fellows." |
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| Tobias Bailey | 28 Nov 2009, 05:51 PM Post #33 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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"When we are aboard," He heard Slater say, "we will have to report directly to the officer of the watch. He will see that you are properly entered into the books. Then, if there is nothing else desired, you will go below to meet the fellows." When he earlier observed how quickly the boat had set off and how fluidly the orders had been followed he felt confident that the new ship could indeed further his prospects and have much that he could learn from working and living on it. He gave his new mate a nod and smiled. "Sort the formalities first, before there's fun to be had." He spoke seriously, as if he were a young budding lieutenant just told that he would sail on a ship which would be most under his command. This though did not last long, not only as the lad was young and in his youth he was not yet dark with worry of his job, still more eager to play as well as to serve, but too, such seriousness was not yet in his character. "This is exciting." He admitted with a grin spread across his face at last. He stopped himself from standing up to see better. It would rock the boat perhaps, and it would not look proper at all for a young midshipman, an officer to be, to act like a child. "Would it be possible, to have a tour of her, once time is granted?" He asked glancing at Slater. Of course it should be, how else would he learn of wheres and whats of her make. Couldn't end up late to report only for having himself lost somewhere below. |
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| James Slater | 14 Dec 2009, 09:55 PM Post #34 |
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Signals and Bunting
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"Sort the formalities first, before there's fun to be had." Slater nodded. "Aye. Otherwise there won't be any fun for a fair good while!" This was, naturally, assuming that St Montgomery wouldn't find some horrible way to detain them. One never knew with him. "Would it be possible, to have a tour of her, once time is granted?" "Course. You'd have to get a show 'round anyway, y'know." As long as he was able to keep Nate Quinn from taking over the duties of 'host', anyway. There wasn't much that Quinn didn't claim for himself, by right of being senior midshipman. It was infuriating sometimes, even though Quinn was generally likable enough. |
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| Tobias Bailey | 14 Dec 2009, 10:22 PM Post #35 |
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Ordinary Seaman
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Bailey listened to the lad of his 'rank' with half an ear, and looked at him with barely the corner of his eye. He registered what he said, had it entered in his mental books and stored for later. The answer might've said much and nothing, but the way it was said spoke of the way the ship must have been run. Discipline as earlier observed was something important, and following the procedures to the T might have been a life saving notion if a lad wished to stay in the good books. A ripple of water to his left was not caused neither by an oar or a splash of water come from it, and had the lad look more attentively in the direction. With a jerk of his head he followed another and then leaned against the side to see better. He leaned over somewhat and observed excitedly as the se alife presented itself to him beneath the liquidy surface of the clear sea. He stared in amazement at the closeness and the colour of what he'd just seen and as the fish disappeared under the boat he was quick to try turn and lean to the other side so that he could see it again. He slipped his hand quickly into his coat and from it he brought a pen and a notebook which had seen its better days. Torn at the edges, with fringy cover it, the paper inside was preserved just satisfactory and laden with sketches and notes. Furiously he begun to scribble on the paper, making a crude outline, writing words beside it, noting the colour and all that he could remember seeing. The outline was made somewhat more detailed and he seemed not even to notice any progress of the boat but for the loss of the animal in the distance. "..can never right see them so close. Not on a ship, having a fair distance from its sides and the water." He commented glancing at Slater. Only then did he realise that they were quite close to the ship of choice. "Is the captain anything of a naturalist.. no, right a stupid question, isn't it? " He said, glancing at the Tars that made the effort to take them back. Not the best place to conclude conversations about any figures of authority. Almost there, and he would hold his tongue during the last preparations to board. |
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