captainhornblower | First Dispatch

[The penmanship is formal, letters close together but not connected. Each letter is made of strokes, an almost calligraphy style-- which translates into broken letters with a modern pen.]

Thursday, 10th January, 1805

[A hastily scrawled question mark appears above the date a moment later.]

My precise location is unknown. [A long pause before more words are written.] My general location is unknown. My ship and men are missing. ~~God help me, what has happened?~~

[Notes appear in the margins, wind direction and estimations of its speed. The word 'drift?' and the beginnings of a mathematical formula are etched into a margin.]

I do not know how I came to be where I am. [Another margin note: 'wings???'] I cannot expect this to even be found, but I will record my observations. It is all I can do, and I must do something.

Currently on board vessel. [Another note in the margins:
'unoccupied
single mast
no flags
enemy?
ally?
neutral party?
abandoned?']

~~May the Lord have mercy on me.~~

[The signature is larger, even more carefully penned.]

Hornblower

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You'll take orders from the pirate what is captain of that ship, lad. The one what doesn't like mutinous talk. Savvy?

I am an officer in His Britannic Majesty's Royal Navy. I shall not be taking orders from a pirate.

I shall, however, be leaving your ship no worse for the wear. Once I reach shore.

Reach...

[At that, Jack switches to voice mode. Urgently.]

OI! Look! She's got no anchor, you Britannic bastard! If you pull her off that mooring she'll drift!

[God.

That book is talking again. He does not like this. Ever.]

I am not going to swim.

ARE. ARE GOING TO SWIM. Unless you're like those other Naval men who can't swim a yard.

I can swim, sir, but I have no intention of doing so.

[There are the sounds of sputtering and fuming and finally the journal slamming shut. There is one infuriated pirate who will eventually make it to the ocean today--probably having missed Horatio and Archie, but to get his boat back in hand with the hopes it hasn't drifted to the Barrier by the time he DOES get there.]

[Tempted as he was not to give a damn about a pirate vessel... Horatio also deeply appreciated what a man's ship was. The craft had been taken as far ashore as he could manage without making it too difficult to get back to sea. He'd also run a line he'd found from the ship to a piece of driftwood, half buried in sand to weight it.

Permanent? Certainly not. But it might buy enough time for the boat's owner to reclaim her before she could drift.]

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