In the Wardroom

During the blockade, life in the Wardroom has become the social highlight of our days. The opportunity to sit and take a meal with my fellows, play games, sing and play music, read. Granted it is far from the sort of social gathering one would expect on land, but it does seem to bring the officers together in its own way. 

Following the Loyal Toast this evening was the traditional Friday toast of "A willing foe and sea room". After the dishes were mostly cleared by the stewards, it was on to our various pursuits whilst grazing at the remnants of supper. 

Lieutenant Hamilton has been working on stitching his new Chapeau Bras, ever complaining that his poor eyes can barely see the black thread on black ribbon atop the black hat in the dim light of the Wardroom. He is quite frustrated in regard to the size of his fingers in comparison to the diminutive size of the curved needle he is using, and has expressed this in very colourful language on several occasions.

Lieutenant Ramsey has been about putting together a new pair of trousers from a bad piece of material purchased while ashore. Months ago, after it was purchased, we laid it out on the table to make ready to cut out the pieces, and we thought we espied some discolouration in the fabric. To make certain, we carried the material up on deck and laid it out proper in the sunlight, and sure enough, the material had the most peculiar light blotches on it. Ramsey is now having to attempt to salvage as much material as he can by placing the pattern pieces strategically around the discoloured spots. 

Lieutenant Tumbusch, the newest addition to the Wardroom, has been embroiled in a series of books since his arrival in August of this Present Year. I HAVE been able to pull him away from his reading on occasion to play at cards, dice &c.  He, being recently promoted, has been in discussions with the others about the procurement of proper buttons for his new coat, and we are all in agreement that they are not as easy to get as we should like.

Captain May of the Marines has done a great deal of business back and forth via the post in regards to the ongoing construction of his new house. We have all heard in detail about the architecture, stone work and even the 'secret tunnel' that will lead out behind the house itself. As much as I have heard, I am ashamed that I do not know how close the house is to actually being finished.

Captain May's new home.

Ship's Master Mr. Minnis is very inclined toward music and will sing or play an instrument most evenings. He knows a great number of songs from memory. You may hear a sampling of him with a young lady ashore from two years ago by clicking below.

 

Mister Dubbeld, who joined the Acasta in October, smokes a long curved pipe, always filled with the most aromatic tobacco. It hangs in the air and swirls about the glowing lanterns hung from the beams like clouds in an artificial sunset. Mr. Dubbeld is always very well dressed, and often talks of a shop that he and his wife ran back home that sold all manner of fine cloth.

Mister Cushing, the ship's purser always seems busy about his many reports. While a very friendly fellow and liked by all, I have been uneasy about him since our mission to New Boston. I have determined to covertly keep my eye on him, and do occasionally glance over his shoulder with a feigned disinterest to have a look at what he's reading or writing. As Pursers have a rather notorious reputation for swindling and cheating, I find it difficult to discern the run-of-the-mill dishonesty from the sort that may pose a danger to King and Country.

Keeping and eye on the Purser.