GAME TURN SIX

The weather is clear with just a hint of breeze, visibility excellent. The HMS Crab is patroling the harbor entrance. Royal Marines can be seen along the docks engaged in markmanship training with muskets and swivels guns (4pdr) mounted in longboats. HMS Buffonia is practicing anchoring on springs. Two young ladys with two Army Officers are being rowed across the harbor in a fancy longboat and appear headed for the Willow.

Commander West had a brief conversation with the purser to see if he could wrangle a bit of gold leaf for the Willow, as well--he wants to touch up the fittings a bit. Mr Vico replied " Sir I have a connection in port who might be able to get some gold leaf but Sgt Morgan's Marines would need to look the other way when some trading took place tonight." Ian stood on the deck of the Willow, conversing in hushed tones with his midshipmen. "Mr. Wallace, Mr. Greg...I want you to take this," he said, handing over a rather large purse, "and be off into the port to see what you might be able to find by way of....expedited purchases, shall we say? The Willow has been here two days, and nothing has been done to refit or resupply her. I cannot tolerate this. Foodstuffs, sirs--find what you may. If I wait for the harbormaster...I fear I shall wait oe'rlong. I see no reason to delay preparing for sea as my orders dictate. Be off with you, now." This said, West turned neatly on his heel and strode off for his small cabin.Once in his cabin, Ian looked over his rapidly dwindling personal supply of coin. His most recent bit of allowance from his father was nearly gone; he greatly feared he would have to spend the remainder. He had to pay a brief visit to the harbormaster, to see if he might be "persuaded" to make the
refitting of the Willow a priority.....Ian only wondered how he might do so.Making his way topside once more, Ian caught the arm of Vico. "Mr. Vico...make the arrangements for the leaf. I shall see to it the Marines look aside for the night. Arrange a bit of compensation for their efforts--a tot of rum apiece might do it, do you think?" Aye, aye sir consider it done.” Ian thought perhaps a bit presumptuous on only a sloop, but my ship will look proud.

Commander West took a few moments to ponder another social situation Lord Rupert’s Grand Ball. His father knows Lord Rupert’s family by reputation. They own several estates in Scotland. Lord Rupert served as a Cavalry Officer in the Scots Greys. He is good friends with Lord Uxbridge. The family wealth comes, in large part, from wool and uniform contracts to the Army. From several outings Ian knows or has at least heard Lord Rupert likes to ride and hunt. He is also said to enjoy a good game of chess. As a rule he looks with favor on naval officers but is said to dislike Captain Giles intensely. The two have nearly crossed swords twice.

Mr Wallace manages to make arrangements with the a few people in port and several lighters full of salt beef and pork (30 days worth) make there way out to the Willow , he returns half the funds you provided him

Mr Greg is gone most of the day but returns aboard the powder hulk. It seems instead of going out to the Watcher as planned it arrived alongside Willow. She will be fully provisioned with shot and powder

Ian sits in his tiny cabin, reviewing yet again several of the ship's logs, taking notes in his neat script. A brief knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter."Leftenant Rhetnug slipped quietly in before his commander, coming to attention. "You wished to see me, sir?" "Yes, Mr. Rhetnug....I did." Ian leaned back as far as the smallish space behind the plank table that served as his desk would allow. "I have decided upon an inspection of the guns, Mr. Rhetnug. Clean guns are reliable guns, sir--I am sure you are aware of this. Please see to it. And there is one more thing, a thing of which I would advise you...." Here he looked uncertainly at his lieutenant, a man scarcely younger than he."Mr. Rhetnug," he began, phrasing his words as delicately as possible, "whisperings of certain... indiscretions?... have come to my ears in recent days. Have a care, sir....you move in circles which may well ruin a career."
~Yours and mine,~ he thought. "I do not wish to see ill befall you. So...I
simply suggest a bit of caution, sir. You are dismissed, Mr. Rhetnug."
With Mr. Rhetnug's departure, Ian turned his attention to his best dress uniform, going over it himself (partly out of concern, but mostly because as a commander he did not have funds to provide himself with a servant) with a lint brush for the fabric, and a polishing cloth for his epaulette and buttons, burnishing them until they gleamed. He wished to look his best this night at the admiral's dinner....
"Damnation! What do you mean, you couldn't find a coach?" Cmdr. West sat at his small desk, glowering at the hapless midshipman before him with an anger which he didn't truly feel. "This won't do at all, Mr. Greg...not at all." Clucking with a feigned peevishness, Ian took up quill and paper, scribbling
a few lines. Sealing it, he handed to the midshipman. "My respects to Capt. Livingstone, Mr. Greg, and take this message to him--he's on the Janna--if you would be so kind. Be off with you, now."
"Aye, sir." And the midshipman slipped gratefully from the cabin.
Message...
Capt. Livingstone, HMS Janna:
Sir,
The appalling lack of transportation must by now have reached your ears. I
am given to understand such might only be procured at unreasonable prices.
Therefore sir, I propose that we combine our efforts in the search for
suitable transportation.
Respectfully,
Cmdr. Ian West,

HMS Willow

Mail and packets arrived including 50 pounds sterling for Commander West from several prizes taken over a year ago.

Commander West was amazed at his good fortune when a knock at his cabin door interupted his thoughts. He called out, “Come in The Sailing Master Burke said, “Sir perhaps its not my place to say this but i have it on good authority that Lieutenant Rhetnug will be participating in a duel at first light tomorow.” He paused, “Sir this isn’t the first time.”