aSimpleMan4U
Experienced
- Joined
- Jun 26, 2017
- Posts
- 82
"And for the beautiful sunset as well, so does this mean you'd like me to stop calling you Jones?" she asked.
"I am unsure as to why I even went that direction," Richards laughed concerning the pseudonym. "It wasn't as if anyone -- even the well connected Henrietta Chavley -- was going to have known that a certain Captain Richards had ... misappropriated an Admiralty vessel before that vessel arrived in your port ... or -- after it had arrived -- that the secret of my identity would remain just that, secret, for long."
Richards told Henri that dinner was still being prepared. He offered to show her about the boat, then offered his elbow. He was pleased when she took it. Together, they began a very slow walk forward, with Richards looking west over the port side toward the distant sunset and nodding her attention that way.
"As far as the sunset goes," he continued, smirking, "That particular shade of orange was a bit difficult to locate. But the crew of the Ruby Rose is ingenious."
He smiled, then laughed, a bit embarrassed at his attempt at humor. They continued onward, ascending a ladder to the forecastle.
"She was originally christened the Elizabeth's Pride on the 100th anniversary of our beloved Queen's death," Richards began explaining as they continued slowly about the boat. He gave Henri a bit of a guilty smile, delving as shortly as possible into a century's worth of politics between the Tudors and Stuarts and the joining of Scotland and England into the United Kingdom. "Not that any of that means terribly much now, of course. She'll be known as the Ruby Rose from now on."
Each of the men stationed about the Ruby Rose removed his hat as the pair neared, showing his respect to the Captain, then to his guest. After each encounter, the man either remained where he was if he was on a scheduled watch or inconspicuously slipped away to go below to change out of his dress uniforms. Each was eager to go ashore for a night on the town with the recently distributed extra coin.
"The Ruby Rose is 67 feet in length, 72 at the waterline ... overall 112," he began, not sure if Henri was actually interested in all this but proud of the boat that he'd at first commanded and now additionally apparently owned. He listed off from memory her draft, beam, mast height, displacement, and more. Grasping one of the hundreds of lines that secured the mechanisms of the vessel's movement, then -- despite not being set -- gesturing up to the sails, Richards continued, "She's got 4,442 square feet of sheet and more than six miles of rigging.
Gesturing down to the main deck, he continued, "She was originally designed with four gun ports on each side, each with an 8 pound gun. But just short of her tenth year in service, she was refitted and the gun deck was restructured to allow an additional gun fore and aft on each side, and the cannons upgraded to 12 pounders."
Richards looked to Henri with a proud expression. "She isn't the largest of ships nor the most heavily fortified. But for her size, she's fast ... and mean."
He laughed at the last word. He finished his long short story about the craft with, "Twelve men can operated her effectively. We have a current crew of 18, though ... and, because we were in a state of conflict when we left Port Royal, we'd had a Marine detachment and additional sailors, for a total of 34."
"Captain," a man called from below. He wore a white apron that was now dirtied by flour, charcoal, and other things splattered that had splattered upon him while cooking. He nodded to Richards, then gave Henri her own nod. "Dinner is ready when you are, Captain ... Madam."
"Thank you, Mister Burrows," Richards said. After the ship's cook was gone and as he was first aiding Henri in descending to the main deck, then navigating the hall to his quarters in the aft of the ship, Richards continued, "When we departed England, a bit more than a year ago now, Mister Tormay was expecting his first child. I had urged him to resign his position and remain in London, perhaps taking a position on the Admirals staff or on one of the vessels patrolling the English shores. But his dedication to me prevented that. I promised his wife that he'd be home inside a year, either returning with the Elizabeth's Pride or one of the other vessels returning home for this reason or that."
He drew a deep, troubled breath. "I feel horrifically guilty about that now, of course. I should have insisted to the Admiral that Mister Tormay remain home. Now ... who knows when he will ever see his child ... if he ever does."
A pair of crew men flanking the doors to Richards' quarters made their respectful acknowledgments to the pair.
"We received word a month after reaching Port Royal," Richards continued after dismissing the two men, who hurried away to change for Nassau, "that his wife had died in child birth ... but that his child, a daughter, had survived and was being cared for by his wife's sister. They'd named her Ruby. Letters that followed told of her very fair skin and fiery red hair, which led to Mister Tormay beginning to refer to her as, of course, Ruby Rose."
Entering Richards' quarters, they found the table that didn't look that much different than what might have been prepared for the couple back on land. It was covered in a sparkling white linen cloth and featured utensils, platters, goblets, and heavy based candle sticks all of silver. Someone familiar with shipboard life might have guessed that, with less fanfare, it was the table around which the officers dined most nights. Someone familiar with sea battles might also have guessed that it was also the table upon which injured crew members had received medical attention.
"Please," Richards said pulling out a chair for Henri. He moved around to his own chair, calling out to the unseen head cook, "Mister Burrows, you may begin."
Rather than the cook entering though, a progression of three young sailors made their way into the room. Each carried a platter, bowl, or pitcher, offering the contents to their guest as Richards introduced them. They included a midshipman, an ensign, and a seaman, and -- as Richards joked -- were the youngest members of the crew, with the oldest being just 19 years old.
After the trio had done their particular jobs and departed, the cook entered carrying a silver platter of what he called herb charred white fish. Richards had no idea what that meant, but that didn't mean anything: the cook could have prepared leather boot sole, and it still would have been one of the most delicious meals Henri ever ate.
"Mister Burrows cooked the first meal ever served aboard the ship," Richards said, nodding his respect to the man who returned the nod. The captain chuckled, asking him, "To the best of my knowledge, he hasn't killed anyone with food poisoning to date, isn't that true, Mister Burrows?"
Burrows laughed loudly. He looked to Henri and said in a quiet voice, "To date, madam ... but that's only because they let me give God his due before each meal." He looked to Richards for permission, bowed his head, and said Grace. After that, he asked each of them if they needed anymore before nodding respectfully and departing, saying, "I'll be in the galley, Captain, should you need anything."
"You may go ashore, Mister Burrows," Richards said quickly. When the cook looked back to him, the Captain gave him a dismissive wave. "Go. Go have some fun. Though, I know how you'll use the time."
Confirming Richard's presumption, Burrows asked Henri, "If a man was in need of some spices ... salt ... would the lady have a merchant she herself would recommend?"
After he got his response, Burrows departed.
When Henri looked back to Richards, he was studying her intently. He glanced past her to the open doors of his quarters and the two men standing there. They weren't looking inside, standing at a right angle to the dining pair. But, there was nothing to keep them from listening in on every thing that was said.
"I have some things I would like to discuss with you," Richards said in a volume just barely high enough for Henri to hear. He again looked past her, hoping that she would understand that he was asking for permission to be with her ... unescorted.
"I am unsure as to why I even went that direction," Richards laughed concerning the pseudonym. "It wasn't as if anyone -- even the well connected Henrietta Chavley -- was going to have known that a certain Captain Richards had ... misappropriated an Admiralty vessel before that vessel arrived in your port ... or -- after it had arrived -- that the secret of my identity would remain just that, secret, for long."
Richards told Henri that dinner was still being prepared. He offered to show her about the boat, then offered his elbow. He was pleased when she took it. Together, they began a very slow walk forward, with Richards looking west over the port side toward the distant sunset and nodding her attention that way.
"As far as the sunset goes," he continued, smirking, "That particular shade of orange was a bit difficult to locate. But the crew of the Ruby Rose is ingenious."
He smiled, then laughed, a bit embarrassed at his attempt at humor. They continued onward, ascending a ladder to the forecastle.
"She was originally christened the Elizabeth's Pride on the 100th anniversary of our beloved Queen's death," Richards began explaining as they continued slowly about the boat. He gave Henri a bit of a guilty smile, delving as shortly as possible into a century's worth of politics between the Tudors and Stuarts and the joining of Scotland and England into the United Kingdom. "Not that any of that means terribly much now, of course. She'll be known as the Ruby Rose from now on."
Each of the men stationed about the Ruby Rose removed his hat as the pair neared, showing his respect to the Captain, then to his guest. After each encounter, the man either remained where he was if he was on a scheduled watch or inconspicuously slipped away to go below to change out of his dress uniforms. Each was eager to go ashore for a night on the town with the recently distributed extra coin.
"The Ruby Rose is 67 feet in length, 72 at the waterline ... overall 112," he began, not sure if Henri was actually interested in all this but proud of the boat that he'd at first commanded and now additionally apparently owned. He listed off from memory her draft, beam, mast height, displacement, and more. Grasping one of the hundreds of lines that secured the mechanisms of the vessel's movement, then -- despite not being set -- gesturing up to the sails, Richards continued, "She's got 4,442 square feet of sheet and more than six miles of rigging.
Gesturing down to the main deck, he continued, "She was originally designed with four gun ports on each side, each with an 8 pound gun. But just short of her tenth year in service, she was refitted and the gun deck was restructured to allow an additional gun fore and aft on each side, and the cannons upgraded to 12 pounders."
Richards looked to Henri with a proud expression. "She isn't the largest of ships nor the most heavily fortified. But for her size, she's fast ... and mean."
He laughed at the last word. He finished his long short story about the craft with, "Twelve men can operated her effectively. We have a current crew of 18, though ... and, because we were in a state of conflict when we left Port Royal, we'd had a Marine detachment and additional sailors, for a total of 34."
"Captain," a man called from below. He wore a white apron that was now dirtied by flour, charcoal, and other things splattered that had splattered upon him while cooking. He nodded to Richards, then gave Henri her own nod. "Dinner is ready when you are, Captain ... Madam."
"Thank you, Mister Burrows," Richards said. After the ship's cook was gone and as he was first aiding Henri in descending to the main deck, then navigating the hall to his quarters in the aft of the ship, Richards continued, "When we departed England, a bit more than a year ago now, Mister Tormay was expecting his first child. I had urged him to resign his position and remain in London, perhaps taking a position on the Admirals staff or on one of the vessels patrolling the English shores. But his dedication to me prevented that. I promised his wife that he'd be home inside a year, either returning with the Elizabeth's Pride or one of the other vessels returning home for this reason or that."
He drew a deep, troubled breath. "I feel horrifically guilty about that now, of course. I should have insisted to the Admiral that Mister Tormay remain home. Now ... who knows when he will ever see his child ... if he ever does."
A pair of crew men flanking the doors to Richards' quarters made their respectful acknowledgments to the pair.
"We received word a month after reaching Port Royal," Richards continued after dismissing the two men, who hurried away to change for Nassau, "that his wife had died in child birth ... but that his child, a daughter, had survived and was being cared for by his wife's sister. They'd named her Ruby. Letters that followed told of her very fair skin and fiery red hair, which led to Mister Tormay beginning to refer to her as, of course, Ruby Rose."
Entering Richards' quarters, they found the table that didn't look that much different than what might have been prepared for the couple back on land. It was covered in a sparkling white linen cloth and featured utensils, platters, goblets, and heavy based candle sticks all of silver. Someone familiar with shipboard life might have guessed that, with less fanfare, it was the table around which the officers dined most nights. Someone familiar with sea battles might also have guessed that it was also the table upon which injured crew members had received medical attention.
"Please," Richards said pulling out a chair for Henri. He moved around to his own chair, calling out to the unseen head cook, "Mister Burrows, you may begin."
Rather than the cook entering though, a progression of three young sailors made their way into the room. Each carried a platter, bowl, or pitcher, offering the contents to their guest as Richards introduced them. They included a midshipman, an ensign, and a seaman, and -- as Richards joked -- were the youngest members of the crew, with the oldest being just 19 years old.
After the trio had done their particular jobs and departed, the cook entered carrying a silver platter of what he called herb charred white fish. Richards had no idea what that meant, but that didn't mean anything: the cook could have prepared leather boot sole, and it still would have been one of the most delicious meals Henri ever ate.
"Mister Burrows cooked the first meal ever served aboard the ship," Richards said, nodding his respect to the man who returned the nod. The captain chuckled, asking him, "To the best of my knowledge, he hasn't killed anyone with food poisoning to date, isn't that true, Mister Burrows?"
Burrows laughed loudly. He looked to Henri and said in a quiet voice, "To date, madam ... but that's only because they let me give God his due before each meal." He looked to Richards for permission, bowed his head, and said Grace. After that, he asked each of them if they needed anymore before nodding respectfully and departing, saying, "I'll be in the galley, Captain, should you need anything."
"You may go ashore, Mister Burrows," Richards said quickly. When the cook looked back to him, the Captain gave him a dismissive wave. "Go. Go have some fun. Though, I know how you'll use the time."
Confirming Richard's presumption, Burrows asked Henri, "If a man was in need of some spices ... salt ... would the lady have a merchant she herself would recommend?"
After he got his response, Burrows departed.
When Henri looked back to Richards, he was studying her intently. He glanced past her to the open doors of his quarters and the two men standing there. They weren't looking inside, standing at a right angle to the dining pair. But, there was nothing to keep them from listening in on every thing that was said.
"I have some things I would like to discuss with you," Richards said in a volume just barely high enough for Henri to hear. He again looked past her, hoping that she would understand that he was asking for permission to be with her ... unescorted.