At the Muster Books

"This is the last of the lot." reported the Bo'sun as the last man in the launch from the Defiance made his way up the Terpsichore's side. He was a tall and strong-looking man who handled himself like a seaman. This looked like a good addition.

Jack Standland, able seaman, came over the side, removing his hat and tugging his forelock in acknowledgement of the officer of the watch. He then made his way to where the new men were gathered in the waist. Jack scanned the deck circumspectly for familiar faces as he joined the short queue of sailors to wait his turn to speak to meet the Lieutenant and sign in at the ship's muster books. He saw no friends as of yet, and he barely knew his shipmates from Defiance. It seemed like he'd been bounced around half the fleet in the last few months. Standland didn't mind changes but he hoped he would good a chance to know some of his crewmates, and a frigate was just the thing for it. As he came to the front of the line he tried to look grave and proper but still showed a hint of a smile.

Sam Oxley had already been entered into the Terpsichore's books by the First Luff, making him an official member of the ship's crew. He grinned as he saw Standland there. Trust him to volunteer into Terpsichore too - the man was no fool, after all. And a frigate was a much better place to be than a ship of the line stuck under the Admiral's nose.

He shifted until he was standing next to him. "It'll be a damn sight better here than where we've come from, by all accounts," he said in a low voice, one eye on the Lieutenant at the table by the mainmast. "Good to see you decided to jump ship, too."

Standland smiled back at Oxley. "Aye, ain't that the truth, Sam. Hell, I was just about ready to jump ship and join one of those damn Portuguee bean cods for a lark!"

"They ain't a-goin anywhere interestin' that I know of," Sam replied. He lowered his voice. "Me kid brother's aboard this here barky - joined the M'rines, of all things. And he reckons we's goin' to see some fun in her." Which wouldn't be possible in a lumbering old seventy-four like Defiance.

Having been watching the men coming up to the table, it was not difficult for Bush to notice that Sam Oxley had suddenly reappeared. A rather strange thing, considering he had already signed in.

"Oxley, I believe you have already been signed in," Bush suddenly said, loud enough for Oxley to hear, "So unless you wish to be signed in a second time--and thus receive more duties--I suggest you make yourself scarce."

Oops. This was a sharp-eyed officer, this one... and one who was good at learning names. Not necessarily a good combination, that.

"See you belowdecks," he muttered to Standland, before knuckling his forehead to the officer. "Aye, aye, sir."

He'd see they ended up in the same mess; when joining a new ship, it was always better to mess with someone you knew, after all.

How had he not known that Sam had a brother in the Jollies? Well, it was good to know he had some good old shipmates with him.

Then Jack wiped the smile from his face as he advanced towards the imposing figure of the Lieutenant.

Now that Oxley had scuttled off, Bush glanced over the man who was coming up to the table. He looked to be capable sailor--or at least someone who might eventually be a capable sailor. At any rate, he did not look to be a confused landsman, which was good.

"Name?" Bush asked as the man approached.

Jack knuckled his forehead and replied automatically, "Jonathan Standland, sir."

Jack liked the look of him right off the bat. This looked like a right smart lieutenant. He only hoped his first impressions proved to be an accurate barometer lest he spend the rest of the commission with a spit-and-polish type or a real tartar.

Bush noted the quick salute. The man definitely had served before.

"Very well, Standland. What are your seamanship abilities?"

"I can hand, reef and steer and I'm usually rated 'Able'. Excepting a run ashore during the Peace, I've been afloat these twenty years, yer honour!"

Jack started to go on, but felt that he was being too garrulous as it was. Sometimes the excitement of a new posting went to his head and he took all mad and chatty like the mockingbirds at home. Anyway, it was best to leave it nice and simple.

After a pause, Standland repeated, "Yes, I can hand, reef, and steer, sir."

Terry had sneaked up on deck to see what the new men were like. The one standing in front of the First Luff now looked an all right sort, he thought, though he seemed a bit talkative.

Twenty years at sea? Terry couldn't imagine what that must be like. Heck, he couldn't imagine what it must be like to even be twenty, let alone to be as old as that sailor - he must be forty, at least. He looked friendly enough, though, which was something.

He didn't want to have another sailor that he needed to be careful around - and it wasn't easy being careful around anyone, not when you were only twelve and people didn't take any notice of you, not really.

From his place near the boat tier, Tide Evans tried unsuccessfully to smother a grin. He was listening shamelessly to the short interviews being conducted by the first luff. There was a fresh batch of lubbers aboard, which meant headaches for warrants and petty officers alike. Though it seemed not all of them were hopeless landsmen. The fellow currently being signed in carried himself like a sailor and professed to be adept at the seaman's trade.

Well, Tide thought, if he could steer even half-way sensibly, he might do well as a quartermaster's mate. God knew Tide had been hoping for a chance to replace that idiot Sullivan! Hopefully Mister Bush would be finished with this new lad soon. Tide wanted a word or two with him.

"Then you shall be rated 'Able' aboard the Terpsichore as well." Bush nodded. His assumptions had been confirmed. "And at sea for twenty years, good. What ships have you served on, Standland? Were they merchantmen or ships-of-war?"

"'Tis almost longer in the telling, sir. Err... I first went to sea when I was only 12, but it were only for some months a year to help my uncle what fished the Grand Banks. Later I served full time on merchantmen before being pressed early in the Last War." Jack said looking positively embarrassed by the attention. "And then I was in and out (mainly in) ships-of-war until the Peace when I went home for a spell. As soon as war broke out again I signed up wantin' to fight for King and Country."

Jack paused and cleared his throat and then said, "I was on the Reso at first, then a spell on the Indy and on to Bellone after the Peace. Likewise the Snake and I was only very briefly on the Defiance. But I don't mean to top it the grand Tarpaulin, sir. I've been lucky to have seen so much in my years and mostly not of my own doing." Jack swallowed again. "And now if your honour pleases I won't take anymore of your time and will just bring my dunnage below. Sir?"

An impressive list of ships, Bush thought. Clearly this man would be an asset to the crew.

"Make your mark first, Standland, then you may tend to your dunnage," he said, indicating the spot in the book.

"Aye sir!" Then Standland took the pen and signed his name.

Lieutenant Deverel crossed to speak with the first luff at that moment. Obviously he would know many of the new men, since he too had recently come from the admiral's ship. While the two officers were busy, Paul Perry sauntered over to greet the newcomer in his own welcoming way.

"Grand Banks, eh?" he said, giving the man a skeptical grimace.

Standland turned a quick appraising eye over the sailor who had just approached him.

In a carefully calculated tone of serious disapproval he drawled out "Aye. And who might you be, cully?"

He left a pregnant pause after his words and then Jack smiled and winked. "My name's Jack Standland. Looks like we're shipmates."

Offering his hand he said, "Everyone in earshot's sure to have heard more than their fill about this old tar. Tell me about yourself, mate."

Perry looked at the man's hand but did not take it. Instead, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his trousers while he looked the man over. "Perry," he answered eventually. "So when was you about the Grand Banks then?"

"What's this then?" demanded Nat, wandering over curiously. He gave the newcomer a look of skeptical appraisal, then stuck out his hand, grinning broadly. "Name's Nat Kelly. I see you've met Paul, here. All enthusiasm, him. Ain't that right, Perry?"

Jack withdrew his hand in a slow, deliberate way. Then he said, "The summers of '89 and '90 when I was a lad."

He then turned to Kelly and returned the smile and the handshake.

"Pleasure, Nat."

Perry simply grunted. Since he had been a very young boy at home with his mother then, he did not have much to say about the Grand Banks in those years. "So. You been ashore at all yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

Relaxing his guard slightly, Jack looked back at Perry and said, "My last run ashore was aboard of the Snake at Gib, and that's been some months, Perry. How about you, mate?".

The more he overheard, the more Tide was convinced this fellow would do well as a quartermaster's mate. Shame he didn't have the authority or rate - or disrate - anyone. That fool Sullivan would be back in a mast crew in a second, otherwise.

He grinned slightly to himself. That fellow Standland was probably the only decent seaman in this lot. The rest would likely prove themselves hopeless lubbers. A right waste of men!

In a moment, he'd go to introduce himself. For now he was content to remain by the boat tier and observe - not only Standland, but these other sorry fools who'd come aboard with him.