contentwithoutcommand | Second Tackle : written

[There is no one to read an official dispatch. He's gathered that much. However, this is quite a different communication.]

May the nineteenth,

I have recently come into command of the sloop-of-war Britannia. She has been well cared for, and I am grateful to the members of the Blue Rogues for that.

However, she is in need of some detailed care to bring her back to her proper state. I have found scrub brushes, paintbrushes, and buckets, but it seems she lacks any holystones. I am in need of those and paint. I am not particularly concerned as to the colour of the paint, so long as there are large quantities and it is a consistent colour. Black for the trim (that, there is plenty of below decks) and yellow (as she is presently) or white or blue for the bulk would be preferable.

Once I have these supplies, I will be in need of volunteers to assist in the work. There will be painting, rowing of rigging, stitching of sail, swabbing, holystoning, and polishing to be done. I have no wages I can offer for these tasks, but I will require those who want to help to be able to follow direction. Maintenance must be done in certain ways to avoid unnecessary work and possible damage to the ship, so I will be very specific in how each task should be accomplished.

Any assistance will be greatly appreciated, and I shall be most grateful for any information on where and how I might obtain the supplies I need. I do not have much, but I may be able to find something in the ship's scarce stores to trade, as I am not looking for charity to bring Britannia to her best.

D Long, commander, R.N.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If I may inquire, Miss Summers -- only for my own knowledge and so I might know her when I see her -- is that the full name of your ship?

[Shortening the name by her captain was hardly unheard of, but it was, he felt, better to ask.]

The Joanna Joyce. And she's only half my ship. Although apparently I'm not supposed to be calling her a ship.

A lovely name, certainly. [He manages to keep himself from writing out the questions the rest of that statement bring to mind.]

[ and so the truth comes out: ] I didn't name her. Her captain did. Though, I agree. The name's great.

[David considers his next reply carefully before answering.] And her captain left her in your hands, I presume?

Her captain isn't himself right now. But I'm me, and I'm the first mate.

[Interesting. Very interesting. Though Daisy comes to mind, and he has to remind himself that what he would call extraordinary seems to be ordinary here.]

And a fine first mate you seem to be, Miss Summers.

I do what I can.

You seem to do admirably, if I may so, Miss Summers.

Having been here for four years helps, surprisingly. Not much shakes me up, these days.

[ maybe that's a lie. or maybe that's the problem. and maybe that's why she's making such a mountain of a molehill. ]

[Four years.

He's spent six months in the West Indies, well away from England but always under the possibility of being recalled there. Here, that cannot happen. To him, four years in which he could not be faulted for not returning to England sound like a Godsend.]

Four years is quite remarkable, Miss Summers. I imagine you have seen much here in that time.

Sometimes it feels like I've seen just about everything.

Sometimes that feeling is for the best, I find. [There are less disappointments that way, usually.]

What a strange opinion for a New Feather to have.

Is it, Miss Summers?

Most don't want to be so jaded.

Sometimes being jaded is the best approach.

I'm fairly certain that only the jaded ever say so.

And usually only the ones who aren't jaded think it's better not to be.

By now, I think the word 'jaded' has just about lost every meaning when I try to write it out. I'm jaded over the word jaded. Huh.

Edited 2013-06-02 21:36 (UTC)

Then we will not pursue the topic further for risk of making it worse.

How gentlemanly.

Good day, ma'am.

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