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December 1719


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The highly professional pirate doctor, with us since May 2011, has been the most active character of 1719, with about 350 posts. She is a complex and well researched character, written by an active, faithful and enthusiastic writer, full of initiative and imagination.

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 Learning The Ropes, Tag; Noah (and other Navy men)
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Dec 26 2011, 08:23 PM


Date: 30 June 1719. Mid-day.
Place: Aboard HMS Rose, at sea.

The sun beat down from a cloudless sky, making the wooden deck beams scorch the bottoms of unprotected feet. Pitch between the beams grew soft and stuck to shoes and skin alike, and to touch any part of the standing or running rigging was to find one's hands sticky with oozing tar. It was precisely this unpleasant side-effect of the day's heat that made Pemba Bahadur severely unwilling to get anywhere near any piece of cordage. That his was the watch on deck and therefore he was expected to haul away on braces or backstays as needed hardly mattered. The fact was he was firmly opposed to soiling his hands in such a contemptible manner.

Unfortunately for him, the wind was not constant. Which meant regular trimming of sails and bracing of yards in a tedious battle to keep the sails adequately filled and drawing. The finer points of sailing were completely lost on him, but all he needed to know was that he was supposed to bend his back and work alongside these light-skins. Any other day and time, he wouldn't object to it, but today, Pemba Bahadur was feeling rather disinclined to work. Or at least he was disinclined to clap onto the braces and haul alongside the other men of the afterguard. The previous evening had been spent carefully bathing. These light-skins weren't going to have the pleasure of seeing him ruin an hour's meticulous cleaning for the sake of their damned ship.

The men with the silver hand-whistles were stomping around the deck, using their awful instruments to summon the duty watch to their trimming stations. Again. Pemba Bahadur was beginning, finally, to recognise what the shrill notes meant. The gruff shouts from the hand-whistle men helped. Scowling, mostly to himself, Pemba Bahadur padded toward the windward pinrail, willing himself to ignore the uncomfortable stickiness on his feet from the soft pitch between the deck beams. There was a possible reprieve for him, however, he realised. A reprieve in the form of a large sailor he had been watching quietly for many days. Many of the Englishmen seemed to like this man, but from what Pemba Bahadur had observed, there was nothing worth liking. The man they called Noah was incapable of defending himself. Pemba Bahadur had noticed that much. It was a trait he immediately disdained in anyone, but today, he got the idea that he could use this trait to his own advantage.

"You," he called, to get the large sailor's attention. "What they call Noah. Come here. Pull this rope, like they are saying to."

If this worked as he thought it would, it would only prove that his observations were correct. If it did not... well. It would hardly be the first time that Pemba Bahadur had found himself in trouble with the long blue coats. Not likely to be the last, either.
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Dec 27 2011, 03:47 PM


All chores needed to be done perfectly, least one wanted to do them again.
And even something as simple as swabbing the deck had to be done with out most care, in the hopes that no one would fine a tiny area that wasn't deemed clean enough.
At those times, Noah Honeycutt was a good friend to have.
Not only was he very intent on keeping the ship top-notch, but he was also terrified of being considered unhelpful or unfriendly.
So when people asked him to do their chores or clean up after them, he did so without complaint.

The 30th of June, 1719 was no different.
The sun was high up in the sky, and without a cloud in sight it was left heating the deck until it was nearly impossible to walk on the wood without any shoes on.
Noah had been quite reluctant to shed his shirt in the heat, but after only a few hours of working it was drenched in sweat, and made it uncomfortable to move.
And while he didn't look forward to nursing a sun-burnt back later on, he'd rather take the pain than do his chores poorly.
So he had tied the sleeves of his shirt around his slim waist, leaving his muscular upper body to gain a darker tan under the rays of the sun.
The heat was still close to unbearable, but now he could work without the uncomfortable feeling of wet fabric clinging to his skin.
Arms trembling slightly with effort ( as Noah never did anything half-way.) he took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, before he wandered over to his next station.

However, before he managed to start, a voice sounding over the voices of the crew startled him slightly, and he looked up, bright blue eyes focusing on the dark-skinned man that was calling for his attention.
And although he had never spoken to the man before, nor had anything remotely linked to the man except that they were sailors upon the same ship, he didn't keep the man waiting.
Instead he hurriedly scurried over and gave the man a sweet, shy smile. A smile which he always gave when he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to react or feel.
The mans name...Pemba...if he recalled correctly, though he wasn't entirely sure...He had heard other crew members mumble about him, though never one to take part of gossip, he had never really listened.
besides, ti was very impolite to listen in on conversations he wasn't a part of.
That was one thing his mother had made sure to teach him.
The man seemed unwilling to perform his chore, and though Noah was quite aware of the fact that he had his own duties, he couldn't say no.
Which caused him terrible unease, as his own station was lacking a man now.
"I.... He started, mumbling the first word in the sentence which he would've used to tell the man off, had his terrible lack of self-confidence not gotten in the way.
"...alright..." He said, hunching his shoulders slightly as he submitted to the request, and without even once questioning the man, Noah grabbed the rope and pulled, hoping desperately that the act would make the man like him, if only a little bit.
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Dec 28 2011, 11:12 AM


The large sailor smiled upon hearing Pemba Bahadur's summons, but agreed and moved to do as he'd been bidden. It was a painless submission and one that confirmed Pemba Bahadur's suspicions. This light-skin was no man. The readiness with which he did as he was told without resistance told the Nepali a great deal. This could be something worth using in the future, perhaps.

"Good," was all he said before another sailor seized hold of the trailing end of the rope and expertly looped it around the belaying pin, making the line fast. The work was done, for the moment, and Pemba Bahadur was satisfied. He had not done the work himself and in fact had gotten another to do it for him. He'd also discovered a soft spot in the English crew. It was good. For him.

Feeling unusually indulgent in the wake of this success, he gazed at the large sailor thoughtfully. "You are named Noah," he said. It was not a question, for he had already heard the sailor's name before. Now, he wished to learn a little more about this new solution to some of his problems.
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Dec 28 2011, 02:24 PM


The single word of approval made Noah smile brightly at the much smaller man in front of him, and had he been a dog, his tail would have been wagging. furiously.
But Noah was no dog, and therefore had no tail. So instead of a furiously wagging tail, he offered a happy grin, that clearly told the outside world how just a nod of approval could make his day.
It didn't really matter to him that this short, dark-haired man in front of him had just made him do a job that he wasn't really meant to do.
He was supposed to be somewhere else, and he would've been somewhere else, had not this slight man called for him as one would call a dog or, possibly, a servant.

Perhaps he should be offended. Most people would have been. But Noah wasn't like most people. He felt a deep respect for everyone, and the fact that anyone even acknowledged him in a positive way made him giddy with joy.
So the fact that most of the crew considered this little man to be a trouble-maker didn't really matter to him.
He was sure that he was a nice person. Perhaps he had just gotten off on the wrong foot with the rest of the crew?
Noah quickly held out a large, calloused hand for the man to shake.
"Yes, sir! Noah Honeyctt!" He was quite sure that the man was older than him. "And you..." He trailed of, and hunched his shoulders slightly, moving his gaze towards the deck. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what your name is?"
He glanced up at the man, and bit his bottom lip worriedly. Hopefully, the man would not assume he was rude for not knowing his name in return.
Noah wouldn't blame him however, if he did feel offended, and mentally he was cursing himself for not knowing.
he couldn't go around calling the man Pemba or Pumba or Pemma or whatever his name was, if it wasn't really his name.
Now that would be rude!

"I'm sorry..." He shifted his weight from one foot to another, and looked terribly uncomfortable.
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Dec 29 2011, 01:00 PM


OOC - Noah should call him Pumbaa. And offer him bugs to eat. happy.gif

IC -

The large sailor's broad smile suggested happiness at having been obliging. Which was good. It meant that future such instances were very possible. Pemba Bahadur's private amusement withered quickly away when the light-skin shoved a hand toward him, in what he'd learned was the English way of greeting. He regarded the offered hand, with its smear of tar and who knew what else on the palm and fingers, and felt a tremor of disgust. What else had this sailor put his hands to? There was no chance of that greeting being returned in kind. Instead, Pemba Bahadur placed his hands together, palm to palm just beneath his chin, as if in prayer, and inclined his head slightly. It was enough of a concession to Noah's obvious courtesy.

"I am Magar," he replied simply, feeling that there was nobody on the ship who was fit to address him by his forename. Why did Noah apologise, though? Was there more Pemba Bahadur might draw out of him at this moment? It was possible.

He frowned a little and, a trifle reluctantly, asked, "You are happy to work?"

It seemed to be so, to him. Certainly the large sailor did not want for enthusiasm. Pemba Bahadur had seen him eagerly undertake many tasks and wondered if he was not the only one to use Noah to attend to undesirable work.
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Jan 17 2012, 08:00 PM


Although Noah had traveled for years with the HMS 'Rose', he wasn't what one would call a cultured man.
He rarely saw man of color, and when he did come across one, he was never quite certain of what to do.
Did he greet them like he would any other light-skinned person? Would he offend them if he did?
His village back home had been small, and although black slaves were common in England, the closest thing he had ever come to one as a child was old farmer Turpin, who's tan wasn't near the one Noah had acquired during his years at sea.
Then again..It did rain a lot in Northumberland...
However, as the smaller man in front of him ignored his hand, and did some kind of strange greeting by putting his hands together in some kind of praying position and inclining his head...Well, Noah could only blink owlishly and cock his head slightly to the side, trying to figure out what in the world the man was doing.

However, Noah was never one to comment on the 'strange' ways of others. He was curious, indeed, but never curious enough to ask straight out what in the world was going on, in fear of offending someone.
At times, when he managed to gather up enough courage, he would perhaps stutter a question to a closer friend on the crew, looking all the while terribly ashamed.
Quickly, he lowered his large hand, when he realized that his hand would not be shaken.
Noah didn't blame the man, Magar, though. Perhaps the man found his hands too dirty?
Quickly, he wiped his hands on his trousers, suddenly terribly self conscious.

"Well...yes, sir." He said, shrugging his shoulders slightly as Magar asked him if he enjoyed working. He wasn't quite sure he completely understood the question to begin with.
Hard work had been a large part of his every day life from early on in life, and to imagine a life without having nothing to do...Well, he wasn't quite able to produce that image in his mind.
And it wasn't as if hard work was a bad thing, was it? His father had often said that it was because of hard work that Noah was fortunate enough to be blessed with such a healthy, strong body.
Noah wouldn't have minded being shorter and thinner...Perhaps even weaker, if it meant drawing less attention to himself.
However, he was glad for his health and the fact that he rarely got sick.
But perhaps Magar had meant something entirely different when he meant 'work'? Perhaps Noah had just misunderstood him?
The man had different ways, after all, and Noah...Well, he had never been considered to have been a very bright young lad.
In fact, it wasn't rare for people to ask if he had been dropped on his head as a child.
It hurt his feelings of course, but he never complained.
"I'm not quite sure what you mean...Shouldn't I be happy to work?" He bit his bottom-lip, glancing around with both horror and confusion in his eyes.

No one had ever said that he wasn't supposed to be so eager to work.
Was he supposed to complain? To take more breaks? To not be so eager to follow orders?
Martin had never mentioned anything about it, and neither had the rest of the crew.
They usually just patted him on the back and gave him more things to do.
Noah never complained...Should he?
He had always been an enthusiastic worker, as long as he got his six hours of undisturbed sleep.
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Jan 19 2012, 01:36 PM


This was a question that, to him, seemed to have an obvious answer. Though, since he was being asked it, Pemba Bahadur thought it must not be so obvious. He glanced toward where a couple of the long blue coats were standing before replying, "It is no harm to like work."

It was a very good thing, in fact. Having a large willing worker like Noah meant Pemba Bahadur could avoid working himself. If he was careful about it. He would have to be certain not to claim the large sailor's services when another sailor needed them, as well.

"I have seen you work for many men, here," he went on. "This is good."
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Feb 5 2012, 04:30 PM


Noah watched Pemba with curiosity in his bright blue eyes, head cocked slightly to the side.
Although he did not enjoy making assumptions ( he was sure he was to get them wrong if he tried.) he couldn't help but feel that Pemba had a...slight hint of resentment towards the others on the ship...He glanced over his shoulder, to where Pemba was looking.
Or perhaps just those of higher rank?
He couldn't really tell.
Noah couldn't really understand why Pemba would host any resentment towards their superiors though...They were, perhaps, just a teensy bit harsh at times. Not that Noah ever blamed them.
If they even so much as raised their voice at him, he'd be a trembling mess, something they seemed to be quite aware of.

"It is...?" He brightened considerably, a smile quirking his lips upwards. "I mean..I wasn't quite sure...Sometimes they tell me that I'm supposed to stay on my own station. But then the others say that I'm supposed to help them with their chores..." He trailed of, chewing nervously on his bottom lip. His mother had always said that he was supposed to aid those who asked for his help. And after so many years, he still found it incredible difficult to say 'no'. Oh, not that he hadn't tried once or twice. But the ache in his stomach that followed the word always sent him hurry to make up for his 'rude ways'.
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Feb 9 2012, 01:45 PM


The large sailor still sounded less than certain about what he was being told and that made Pemba Bahadur wonder, just a little.

"You must attend your own work first, of course," he said. "But there is not a great harm done to..." he cast about for the right English word, "to support others in their own work."

It would not do, after all, for the long blue coats to become aware that a sailor was not in his assigned place when important ship handling work was to be done. Beyond that however... it was all fair and free, as far as Pemba Bahadur was concerned.

"The long blue coats do not care if all is done correct," he added.
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Feb 20 2012, 04:35 PM


Noah nodded, happy with the words Pemba was providing.
It had been constantly nagging him if he was doing wrong or right, and though he had intended to ask a superior, just to make sure, he didn't want to be a bother.
Which was, in turn, what often got Noah into trouble.
Even if he was uncertain of things, he tried not to ask, afraid that he would end up being in the way of someone and cause annoyance.

Of course, his reluctance to ask for help, as well as the fact that he wasn't the brightest member of the crew ( some made it a point to tell others he had been dropped on his head as a child) didn't really help either.
Some made it a point to see how dim he really was, and though he wasn't very keen to admit it, they more than often got a good laugh out of it.
But it wasn't as if he could refuse them, when they asked him to stand on his hands [/i]( which he found completely impossible)[/i] or told him to give them his food or such.
He was sure that they meant well...Even if he just couldn't understand why they would find his misery so amusing.

"The long blue coats...?" He blinked, cocking his head slightly to the side in confusion. Why would articles of clothing have any say in how work was supposed to be done? Had he missed something?
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: Mar 14 2012, 11:47 AM


It was this question that confirmed his suspicion. This large sailor was indeed simple in mind. Not that this was a great mark against the man in Pemba Bahadur's view.

"Those who have command, as it is called," he explained, reluctant to refer to the long blue coats as men. "They who control the ship and the sailors."

There was a particular English word for them but he could not recall it at that moment. Not that it mattered greatly. His meaning hopefully was clear. Equally hopefully he would not be pressed to give any of the long blue coats' true names, for he did not know them.
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: Apr 15 2012, 04:54 PM


Noah blinked, and turned to look over at the so called 'long blue coats'. He had never really spent much time thinking about the clothes that others were wearing, too occupied to either find clothes that fit his large frame, or please them enough so that they were happy with him.
"Oh..Oh, you don't want to call them that. That's disrespectful. You don't want to be disrespectful, do you? I mean...Mr.Prescott wouldn't like to hear you call them that, and he can be mighty generous with handing out floggings. Not that he's a cruel man, no..."Noah wrung his hands nervously, and shifted his weight from one foot to another, as he glanced over his shoulder. "Mr.Prescott is very good at his job, he is. I'm not criticizing him. Really. I just...You don't want to be flogged, do you?" He winched at the mere thought. If anything, Noah was less than keen to see anyone getting flogged, and in so, he preferred to help out his crew as much as he possibly could. He had a soft heart, and if he wasn't helping out a crew member when said man was complaining over a backache or something of the kind, he was doting on animals. An animals generally liked Noah, despite his quite intimidating size. He grew completely gaga over such simple creatures as cows, and heaven knows that he would've taken every stray animal under his wing, had he had the opportunity to.
In some ways, he treated the crew as he treated animals.
As if they were all in the need of a savior, and needed him to help them. To feed them and protect them from the dangers in the world.
And thought he had only just properly met this man in front of him, he was quick to feel protective over this man as well.
To see him as a part of the family.
And family looked out for each other, did they not?

"I don't want you to get hurt..." He trailed of, chewing his bottom-lip nervously as he peered down at Pemba.
Pemba Bahadur Magar
Posted: May 3 2012, 08:20 AM


Disrespectful. The use of the word surprised Pemba Bahadur, insofar as he had never seen respect shown to anyone by the long blue coats. Except for themselves, of course. It was maddening that he should be made to show respect to them when they did not show it back.

"That is what they are," he said with a shrug. Then he frowned, just slightly. "I am afraid of no man in this ship. Mister Prescott or the long blue coats."

Being flogged was a very grave insult. He had not forgotten the day he had received that for punishment, for failing to show respect to his last ship's long blue coats. The memory of it still burned hot. Since then he had duly saluted them at every meeting, even as he privately resented it.

"I have seen his generosity before," Pemba Bahadur went on. "Such men are not truly men."

But what more could be expected of a creature who carried out the ordered floggings with such ill-concealed delight?
Noah Honeycutt
Posted: May 23 2012, 02:06 PM


Pemba seemed so sure of his words, that Noah couldn’t help but to glance over his shoulder once more, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought.
He had never doubted the motives of his superiors, and he had always figured that whenever Mr. Prescott was dealing out punishments, there had always been a good enough reason.
Thinking about it, he himself had often not seen an act bad enough to deserve a whipping.
But then again, Noah had a way too soft heart and would let even the worst of the hooligans off easily, had he been in charge.

But the look in Pemba’s eyes made worry twist inside Noah’s chest. A feeling of discomfort as he wasn’t sure how to act or whose side to take.
He had never been one to doubt what he was told. But when one side told him one thing, and the other something else, he felt restless, and just about ready to run and hide.
But he couldn’t leave Pemba when the man still held such anger in his gaze.
It worried Noah, that the dark-haired man would, in a rush of thoughts of injustice, do something foolish.
Naoh wasn’t known for being the brightest among men. But he was one of the few who had never spoken words in anger.
Which, perhaps, had saved him from one or two whippings in the past.

“Sir….” He trailed of, not sure how to put his words. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he searched his thoughts of the proper thing to say, without coming of as someone who was only trying to make a fool out of him.
“…Mr Prescott is...A man of power upon this ship. I think I understand that you are not very fond of him. But please, sir, don’t give him a reason to target you. You can’t argue with men like him. Sometimes, it’s better to let them have their way…And if you must have it your way, do so. But not when they’re around.”
It was a tad bit harder than he had thought it would be, uttering those last few words. But if anything, he understood that Pemba was someone who perhaps did not have the same patience as he himself had.
With one last, shy smile at Pemba, and a glance at the ropes to make sure they were perfectly tied, he then hurried off to the other side of the ship, to once again take his post.

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