For King and Country, a Pike (Wo)man's Tale
This time around, I have not one but THREE adventures to cover, as I had a few things happen after the most recent reenactment that delayed my blog by a week or two. The other two, more recent events are briefly noted at the bottom, along with pictures and/or video (uploaded over the next day or three).
=========================
For King and Country
After attending my third reenactment the weekend of March 5th through the 8th, a few things came to mind:
- The Searle's Buccaneers (and Men of Menendez) are a great, experienced group(s) of people.
- I need to head to St Augustine and other historic towns a little more often.
- Reliving history isn't as dark, nor as rosy as one think it would be.
Now, a little more detail:
Thursday - I ventured first to a home 30 minutes south of my destination to pick up a few tin lanterns that were wonderfully restored by fellow pub member SutlerJon (they look great btw - thanks!). After that, I arrived mid-afternoon at the encampment (after a little misdirection from my GPS), and parked my car just inside the grounds of the De Mesa-Sanchez yard. This area is a modest-sized open space just across the street from the Castillo de San Marcos. With large patches of grass and trees dotting the grounds, this provided us a cozy, slightly shaded location for camping out. Surrounding the yard are parts of the Colonial Spanish Quarter (blacksmith, Taberna del Gallo, employee hideout, museum), as well as the famous St George Street (and adjacent) shops, restaurants, bars and pubs.
Since I had never seen a reenactment before from the beginning, I walked around the grounds to see who had already arrived and how much had been set up so far. The first folks I came upon were Conrad (of the Pirate Haus) and Captain William. Sergeant Jeff had the period music blasting from his van again, and was working alongside Willie Wobble on his "officers tent and fly". Lid and Doug also showed up, and we spent the next few hours getting set up, and five of us got into our kit. (Note: I learned from the Jacksonville event that kit clothes keep you warmer at night than mundane wear. Never again will I forget that...lol). After getting our individual areas up, alot of pots, pans, kitchen and dining related knick knacks were unloaded from a few trailers and set next to a water hookup (not working at the time). Seating arrangements of tables, chairs and benches were assembled and strewn across open areas and near the (soon to be made) fire pit.
Afternoon Zoinks: I was about to pull everything out of my car when it was suggested I move closer to my designated spot to unpack. Good idea! I asked Jeff to back my car up for me, as there were a few obstacles I didn't want to risk hitting. Unfortunately when he got into my car and turned it on, it lurched forward, right over the edge of a drop off that was, oh...at least a foot down. Fifteen minutes later and with the help of several men, we managed to get my car back up using MacGuyver-ish techniques to help her roll back without damaging the low riding undercarriage. Thankfully she's doing fine and so are my nerves (lol).
I hung out that evening for dinner at the officer's tent fly where we shared snackage consisting of crackers, cheese, cream cheese 'n mrs wobble's jelly, and smeat with the guys, along with a little drink and merriment. Lid dug a pit and within a few minutes had a crackling fire started by the future kitchen area. After talking for a little while with Lid at said fire, a loud CLANG echoed from back at the officer's tent. Poor Jeff had reached his limit in waking hours. He tried wrestling his cot open (and out of the tent...?!?) half-concious, promptly passing out onto the officer's tables. Bowls, plates and an assortment of other items flew left and right, as did a startled Doug, William and Willie. Jeff got a painful smack to the chest by one of the tables when he went down, but thankfully wasn't seriously injured. Those at the tent scooped him up, got him and his cot back inside, and put him to bed (borrowing Conrad's sleeping bag - he missed out on that moment).
After getting the Sergeant to a safe slumber, the rest of us (still sans Conrad) decided to head out onto St George's Street to check out the night life. Surprisingly the street was fairly dead, save for a few pubs and bars that were still open. We first paid a visit to the Mill Top Tavern, a two level building with a restaurant and bar on top and a store at ground level. William and Doug slowed down to talk to a few fellow bar hoppers and gained an earful of dirty jokes before taking the stairs up to meet the rest of us. A few pitchers of beer later, and a game of "Mexican thumb wars" broke out. It was Lid (with a rather fashionable walking cane) versus Doug, with gulps of whiskey being downed first (via pewter cups tied together by a long string), followed by chugging of a beer while trying to outmaneuver one another. Doug won, which incited William to announce that sometimes "age and experience wins over youth and vigor", or something to the effect. I dunno...might just be who has the longer, more limber thumb. Before leaving, a toast was offered to a woman I hope to meet (a fellow Searle's Bucc I believe, recovering from an illness), and we made our way down and out to the next spot, which was a biker bar. And my first one, at that. :)
At the biker bar, we were allowed in by someone who knew someone in our group, and wove our way through the crowd to an open spot near a small dance floor in the corner (sorry, no pics, though I wish I had). Peering over the crowd, I didn't see anyone who looked intimidating enough to grin at, so I leaned back to soak in the music and enjoy company of fellow crewmates. More libations were had fairly swiftly, as we had to get back to camp soon to meet Conrad who was returning with his 2 doggies. Before leaving, a few of the gents were pulled up to boogie down with female patrons. Doug and William each honored me with a spin on the dance floor, too. The fellas are right Doug...you sure can dance! (Erm...you too William..*grins*).
We arrived back at the encampment where we were met by Conrad and his two pooches (labs, I believe). They were on retractable leashes that kept entangling everyone, and were very skittish when bikers whizzed by, revving their motorcycles down A1A. A few of us sat by the fire, warming ourselves a bit and talking about the evening's events (especially poor Jeff) before we split off for other discussions or retired to bed.
Friday: I woke up at around 5 or so and decided to tend to the fire. I caught my first St Augustine sunrise, and it was beautiful, especially with the glow peeking over the Castillo across the street. I headed back to bed for a few hours more, and awoke to the sound of arriving campers working on their tents. Diosa and Hurricane made it in, along with a few fellow Pirates of the Coast. Mickey and Kate Souris, along with Callenish Gunner, Salty Pots and baby Hamish also arrived from Ohio and Pennsylvania.
The kitchen tent was set up rather quickly that morning. The head cook, Melissa arrived and set out to acquire the assistance of many a lady to stock her pantries and get food out to be eaten, starting with breakfast (fruit, veggies, apple pottage, bread). At around that time I decided to switch over my kit to that of a man's (venetian breeches, man's shirt, jerkin, monmouth cap and ropas). Once I was spotted amongst the group I was promptly coveted as the "cabin boy" by several of the crewman. I didn't mind, as it gave the rest of the crew and non-kitted visitors a good chuckle. A few of us also made rounds out to St George's Street to pick up a few things (cash, swedish fish), and also headed to lunch at a local eatery where we had Spanish fare that was very good. After lunch I took a little time to ask questions about flintlocks and doglocks. It was my silly attempt at gaining an understanding of period firearms, and after a discussion or two with Mickey and a few others, I was glad I asked.
The day concluded with a dinner of shish-ka-bob'd meats and/or veggies (cooked ourselves), followed by a late evening at the Taberna. The Taberna (tavern) de Gallo is a period pub that's a bit older than the timeframe Searles represents at the event, but it made for an ideal destination to have an drink, play period games with fellow revelers and sing songs by candle light. Even the barkeeps were wearing proper kit, which was nice. A little after the Taberna closed and I'd hung around a bit with William and NC attendees Andy and Maggie, I made my way to bed, seeking out comfort for an achy back. That's exactly what I found, as I had many layers of softness beneath me, plenty of blankets and my PiP sleeping bag (my new mummy bag - used in Jacksonville - sucked).
Saturday: Yet another great breakfast was had, and after that I went to one of the encampment's sutlers (Jon) who had a tent filled with clothes, period accoutrements and even plastic toy cockroaches (?!?). I picked up a few things, including a waistcoat that went better with my breeches and a new men's shirt. Since I now had slightly more authentic kit on, I ventured through camp, checking out the variety of activities as visitors wandered in from St George's and beyond. There were cannon demonstrations (across the street), and on our side of the road, stunt sword fighting took up a corner of the yard, with swords clanging away and the inevitable "oof" heard as men fought in groups of two. People walked throughout the area asking a lot of questions about clothes, the kitchen, the Raid, and everything else one could think up. I was stopped a few times and managed to answer everything correctly (event specifics mostly). I was also asked if folks could take pictures of my tent since I had the flaps open. Apparently I'd done something right this time, even though most of the decore was the same as it had been in Jacksonville, except for a few small additions.
During the day (before and after lunch), I jumped into two series of pike drills to gain an understanding of what the pikemen would take on during the raid. We averaged 8 to 10 men each time (including one gal - me), and split up into rows of three or four. The more experienced folks in the group stuck to the left of each row, and we were ordered to follow them should we not catch what Captain William or Bosun Doug were barking at us. Initially, that made us only slow down as we looked over at our row leaders, but once everyone got the hang of marching in step, turning and moving together, we looked like a synchronous unit.
The first of the pike drills took place at the encampment at a space cleared of visitors and campers, and wasn't a difficult drill; merely a series of maneuvers to get us familiar with carrying and moving with a pike (a spearhead on a long pole) and marching. The second set of pike drills were more interesting, as they took place on the grounds outside of the Castillo, which by the afternoon was teaming with onlookers. We marched up and down hills, turned left and right, and eventually did a "pike push". This involved packing tightly together two by two and having two groups eventually ram and push into one another. It all was done as safely as possible, with the (now hoarse) William and Doug watching over us. But of course, my helmet had to go flying off. Then the monmouth cap went flying as I was pressing hard against the other group, nearly tipping myself sideways toward a hill. The skirmish was then halted to ensure I was alright (and I was...just those darned hats fell and my attention wavered). We resorted to a few more formations while our men with firearms engaged in firing over the water. Sergeant Davis also joined us, surveying both groups with a shrewd eye to ensure we were "up to snuff". Then we headed back to camp, breaking our march as we moseyed south down St George Street.
Yeouch: During the drills at the Castillo, crewmate Tomm walked behind us, flogging our backs and forcing us back into formation with a leftover rope contraption given to him by Willie Wobble. It looked like a cat-o-nine-tails. Didn't hurt...much.
Those of us engaging in the raid had to head out around 4:30 while dinner preparations continued. The English headed south on St George towards a side street, and the Spanish made way to a partial Fort structure north of the St George businesses and eateries (near a well camouflaged parking garage). Once it was time to move, the pikemen made their way further south to a park where we marched around the perimeter (encountering smoke bombs for atmosphere...*coughs*). Sergeant Johnson's son Alex volunteered to call orders for William at times when his voice could not carry, and as we made way north on St George Street, I took notice of how many people were watching the Raid. Literally hundreds of people lined the street and sidewalks and watched excitedly, taking pictures or video. And several of the crew ensured visitors kept a safe distance from us while we marched along. We ended up at a grassy area across from the partial Fort (where the Spanish were held up), and we (the English) resorted to firing guns and cannons (and vice versa), engaging in sword fights, and flanking the audience with pikemen. We stood there glaring menacingly at them (or squinting at the sunset). The English lost a few men (Doug's son William, and Conrad), and when I mentioned our loss Tomm made his rounds and whipped me for speaking out of turn. I explained why I spoke up, and he looked over solemnly to the dead, only saying "Oh."
Chants: As we made our way up St George Street, we shouted "For the King...For Captain Searles...For the Prize.." several times over.
A few more maneuvers followed, and we were then ordered to engage the Spanish at the fort wall with our swords and pikes. They were on the other side (bloody cowards) and we had every intention of getting men over, but only managed to attack with weapons at the wall for a minute or two. Following that the English backed up and allowed the Spanish Captain (Brian) to engage Sergeant Davis (as Captain Searle) in a surrender.
Note: As the raid took place, leaflets were handed out to the crowds to provide explanation on the event. I thought this was a great idea, as it gives visitors a chance to learn more about the town and its history. The raid itself was surely not the grand spectacle presented to folks that day. Alas, reality held fear, injury, death and destruction, but bringing this bit of history to the public (slightly sweetened) does do something for interest in the raid and the locations affected, as it and those involved will be remembered. For more information on Searles Raid, visit http://www.searlesbuccaneers.org .
After the English won (huzzah!), everyone headed back to camp to settle in for the evening and prepare for dinner. I switched my kit back over to that of a lady, got a plate of food and sat down with Mickey and Kate to eat and chat. They offered me what turned out to be a yummy drink (hard pomagranate lemonade), and from there the camp wound down, settling into a few groups that sang songs (including Loch Lomond, and All For Me Grog), toasted marshmellows, and told stories and jokes. Towards the end of the evening, a few of us ended up at the wall by A1A, and we watched police in action going after somebody either at the Castillo across from us, or the restaurant/bar to the right of us, or both. Also, the highlight of the night was that Mickey got his hair prettied up by a few of the ladies at camp, but I think that's a story for him to tell. :)
I slept well again, and awoke to the wonderful smell of Willie's breakfast burritos cooking at the fire. After breakfast, I began keeping in touch with my dad via shellphone, as he was heading up from my place in Orlando. He was in on business, and wanted to venture up and see me at a reenactment, even if it was just at the tail end of it. I met up with him and introduced him to the crew, and he helped me take down my tent and pack everything up. From there, I changed into mundane wear, we headed to Scarlett O'Hara's for lunch, and then I headed back. After many a hug and a "see yah real soon", I headed out. I reflected a bit on my way home, recalling that I met a great many more folks from the crew (even family in some cases), hung out with a few PiPsters again, enjoyed several nights of "jollification", and learned a bit about what is involved in a battle. I really wish the weekend never ended, as it was one of the best historical events I've been to so far.
Pay no attention to dates on the pictures, as my new camera was a bit wonky with getting that set up.
Pics: via Photobucket
===============================
T Minus 10, 9, 8...
I had an event the week after Searles that took up a few days, but it was a little more lax in terms of schedule and clothing (bikini, anyone?). My dad was in town to convene with teammates on an upcoming rocket launch at the Cape. They (and I) received permission to attend a VIP viewing, and ended up at the Radisson Inn Oceanfront at Melborne. The view was spectacular as it was right up against the beach. Made it hard to work the first day I was there, but I soldiered through and then rewarded myself with a little body surfing, lounging on the beach and relaxing in the jacuzzi. I'll skip over to Sunday, as our launch kept getting pushed forward due to the shuttle Discovery's launch getting moved. To clarify, if weather isn't on par, a launch is either moved or scrubbed. If it is moved, any other launch scheduled after it must be done at least 48 hours after it to allow all launch related sites time to reset their systems.
So, we ended up seeing the shuttle launch (STS-119) from the Kennedy Space Center on Sunday, and it was an amazing sight. The ride home however, lacked a little something. I think I'd call it...speed. Took us 4.5 hours to get back to my place. Oh no, I'm not doing that again. I'll stick to camping out or heading to a hotel on the beach.
Sadly, my dad and a few of his coworkers (who paid to stay a day later) still didn't get to see their rocket launch on St Patrick's Day. They checked the launch hotline, which noted everything was a go, but when they were hanging on the bus, waiting to go the driver turned around with a rather grim expression, not eager to pass on the bad news. And the hotline still said go at that point!
On the bright side, I'm glad we saw a launch. It wasn't on my bucket list, but it's one of those things not many people get to see.
Pics: Space Coast Pics
Video: Not uploaded...yet.
===============================
Making It Up as I Go
I made it to my first day at an archeology dig this past weekend (the 21st), and while it was fun, I could barely lift my arms for two days! In the interest of keeping the site under wraps, I'll only say it's an hour or so north of my home. Being the geek that I am, I played the Raiders of the Lost Ark soundtrack during the drive, eventually running out of music ten minutes before I found my destination. I met with the dig lead (Willet), filled out volunteer paperwork, and then proceeded to follow him in his truck down a VERY bumpy road to the site. (Note: I've since found an alternate route with paved roads). We made it to the main site (one of five in the area), where we found two other volunteers - Lotti and cousin Justin - waiting for us. Willet's truck unfortunately suffered a flat from the drive over, so he spent a little time getting that fixed with the aide of his parents, who live nearby. The rest of us aimed for a plotted area where sod dirt was dug out in precise layers (3 total, it seemed), and then tossed onto a sifter (see pics) attached to a very tall tripod. We each took turns shaking the heck out of the sifter, letting the dirt fall into a pile below, and then examined the remnants. That day we ound arrowheads, Spanish and Native American pottery, along with lithic pieces that probably broke off from knives and other implements. Willet and Lotti regaled me with tales of finding larger (nearly complete) bits of pottery, along with a few translucent glass beads. They have a bit of a competition going to see who finds the next one. I'd say their biggest find was probably their first for the area, that being a post marking one edge of the 17th century Spanish mission they're hoping to plot out with continued excavation.
After working the site for a few hours, Lotti, Justin and I ventured out for lunch to the Dam Diner (built next to a dam...hence the name...heh). I had breakfast that included a pancake the size of Texas, and by the time we got back we were all fairly eager to nap in lieu of dig. But, the shovels and sifters called out to us, tempting us with the possibility of more finds, so we got back to work. An hour or so later we completed the first layer of a new rectangular plotted area, and Willet proceeded to take down size and depth measurements to go with the bag of finds we had for the day. From there, he called it a day for the team and headed to his lab to do more analysis and write ups, while the rest of us said our goodbyes, and noted we'd see each other in a few weeks, if not sooner.
Pics: Not uploaded...yet.
=========================
For King and Country
After attending my third reenactment the weekend of March 5th through the 8th, a few things came to mind:
- The Searle's Buccaneers (and Men of Menendez) are a great, experienced group(s) of people.
- I need to head to St Augustine and other historic towns a little more often.
- Reliving history isn't as dark, nor as rosy as one think it would be.
Now, a little more detail:
Thursday - I ventured first to a home 30 minutes south of my destination to pick up a few tin lanterns that were wonderfully restored by fellow pub member SutlerJon (they look great btw - thanks!). After that, I arrived mid-afternoon at the encampment (after a little misdirection from my GPS), and parked my car just inside the grounds of the De Mesa-Sanchez yard. This area is a modest-sized open space just across the street from the Castillo de San Marcos. With large patches of grass and trees dotting the grounds, this provided us a cozy, slightly shaded location for camping out. Surrounding the yard are parts of the Colonial Spanish Quarter (blacksmith, Taberna del Gallo, employee hideout, museum), as well as the famous St George Street (and adjacent) shops, restaurants, bars and pubs.
Since I had never seen a reenactment before from the beginning, I walked around the grounds to see who had already arrived and how much had been set up so far. The first folks I came upon were Conrad (of the Pirate Haus) and Captain William. Sergeant Jeff had the period music blasting from his van again, and was working alongside Willie Wobble on his "officers tent and fly". Lid and Doug also showed up, and we spent the next few hours getting set up, and five of us got into our kit. (Note: I learned from the Jacksonville event that kit clothes keep you warmer at night than mundane wear. Never again will I forget that...lol). After getting our individual areas up, alot of pots, pans, kitchen and dining related knick knacks were unloaded from a few trailers and set next to a water hookup (not working at the time). Seating arrangements of tables, chairs and benches were assembled and strewn across open areas and near the (soon to be made) fire pit.
Afternoon Zoinks: I was about to pull everything out of my car when it was suggested I move closer to my designated spot to unpack. Good idea! I asked Jeff to back my car up for me, as there were a few obstacles I didn't want to risk hitting. Unfortunately when he got into my car and turned it on, it lurched forward, right over the edge of a drop off that was, oh...at least a foot down. Fifteen minutes later and with the help of several men, we managed to get my car back up using MacGuyver-ish techniques to help her roll back without damaging the low riding undercarriage. Thankfully she's doing fine and so are my nerves (lol).
I hung out that evening for dinner at the officer's tent fly where we shared snackage consisting of crackers, cheese, cream cheese 'n mrs wobble's jelly, and smeat with the guys, along with a little drink and merriment. Lid dug a pit and within a few minutes had a crackling fire started by the future kitchen area. After talking for a little while with Lid at said fire, a loud CLANG echoed from back at the officer's tent. Poor Jeff had reached his limit in waking hours. He tried wrestling his cot open (and out of the tent...?!?) half-concious, promptly passing out onto the officer's tables. Bowls, plates and an assortment of other items flew left and right, as did a startled Doug, William and Willie. Jeff got a painful smack to the chest by one of the tables when he went down, but thankfully wasn't seriously injured. Those at the tent scooped him up, got him and his cot back inside, and put him to bed (borrowing Conrad's sleeping bag - he missed out on that moment).
After getting the Sergeant to a safe slumber, the rest of us (still sans Conrad) decided to head out onto St George's Street to check out the night life. Surprisingly the street was fairly dead, save for a few pubs and bars that were still open. We first paid a visit to the Mill Top Tavern, a two level building with a restaurant and bar on top and a store at ground level. William and Doug slowed down to talk to a few fellow bar hoppers and gained an earful of dirty jokes before taking the stairs up to meet the rest of us. A few pitchers of beer later, and a game of "Mexican thumb wars" broke out. It was Lid (with a rather fashionable walking cane) versus Doug, with gulps of whiskey being downed first (via pewter cups tied together by a long string), followed by chugging of a beer while trying to outmaneuver one another. Doug won, which incited William to announce that sometimes "age and experience wins over youth and vigor", or something to the effect. I dunno...might just be who has the longer, more limber thumb. Before leaving, a toast was offered to a woman I hope to meet (a fellow Searle's Bucc I believe, recovering from an illness), and we made our way down and out to the next spot, which was a biker bar. And my first one, at that. :)
At the biker bar, we were allowed in by someone who knew someone in our group, and wove our way through the crowd to an open spot near a small dance floor in the corner (sorry, no pics, though I wish I had). Peering over the crowd, I didn't see anyone who looked intimidating enough to grin at, so I leaned back to soak in the music and enjoy company of fellow crewmates. More libations were had fairly swiftly, as we had to get back to camp soon to meet Conrad who was returning with his 2 doggies. Before leaving, a few of the gents were pulled up to boogie down with female patrons. Doug and William each honored me with a spin on the dance floor, too. The fellas are right Doug...you sure can dance! (Erm...you too William..*grins*).
We arrived back at the encampment where we were met by Conrad and his two pooches (labs, I believe). They were on retractable leashes that kept entangling everyone, and were very skittish when bikers whizzed by, revving their motorcycles down A1A. A few of us sat by the fire, warming ourselves a bit and talking about the evening's events (especially poor Jeff) before we split off for other discussions or retired to bed.
Friday: I woke up at around 5 or so and decided to tend to the fire. I caught my first St Augustine sunrise, and it was beautiful, especially with the glow peeking over the Castillo across the street. I headed back to bed for a few hours more, and awoke to the sound of arriving campers working on their tents. Diosa and Hurricane made it in, along with a few fellow Pirates of the Coast. Mickey and Kate Souris, along with Callenish Gunner, Salty Pots and baby Hamish also arrived from Ohio and Pennsylvania.
The kitchen tent was set up rather quickly that morning. The head cook, Melissa arrived and set out to acquire the assistance of many a lady to stock her pantries and get food out to be eaten, starting with breakfast (fruit, veggies, apple pottage, bread). At around that time I decided to switch over my kit to that of a man's (venetian breeches, man's shirt, jerkin, monmouth cap and ropas). Once I was spotted amongst the group I was promptly coveted as the "cabin boy" by several of the crewman. I didn't mind, as it gave the rest of the crew and non-kitted visitors a good chuckle. A few of us also made rounds out to St George's Street to pick up a few things (cash, swedish fish), and also headed to lunch at a local eatery where we had Spanish fare that was very good. After lunch I took a little time to ask questions about flintlocks and doglocks. It was my silly attempt at gaining an understanding of period firearms, and after a discussion or two with Mickey and a few others, I was glad I asked.
The day concluded with a dinner of shish-ka-bob'd meats and/or veggies (cooked ourselves), followed by a late evening at the Taberna. The Taberna (tavern) de Gallo is a period pub that's a bit older than the timeframe Searles represents at the event, but it made for an ideal destination to have an drink, play period games with fellow revelers and sing songs by candle light. Even the barkeeps were wearing proper kit, which was nice. A little after the Taberna closed and I'd hung around a bit with William and NC attendees Andy and Maggie, I made my way to bed, seeking out comfort for an achy back. That's exactly what I found, as I had many layers of softness beneath me, plenty of blankets and my PiP sleeping bag (my new mummy bag - used in Jacksonville - sucked).
Saturday: Yet another great breakfast was had, and after that I went to one of the encampment's sutlers (Jon) who had a tent filled with clothes, period accoutrements and even plastic toy cockroaches (?!?). I picked up a few things, including a waistcoat that went better with my breeches and a new men's shirt. Since I now had slightly more authentic kit on, I ventured through camp, checking out the variety of activities as visitors wandered in from St George's and beyond. There were cannon demonstrations (across the street), and on our side of the road, stunt sword fighting took up a corner of the yard, with swords clanging away and the inevitable "oof" heard as men fought in groups of two. People walked throughout the area asking a lot of questions about clothes, the kitchen, the Raid, and everything else one could think up. I was stopped a few times and managed to answer everything correctly (event specifics mostly). I was also asked if folks could take pictures of my tent since I had the flaps open. Apparently I'd done something right this time, even though most of the decore was the same as it had been in Jacksonville, except for a few small additions.
During the day (before and after lunch), I jumped into two series of pike drills to gain an understanding of what the pikemen would take on during the raid. We averaged 8 to 10 men each time (including one gal - me), and split up into rows of three or four. The more experienced folks in the group stuck to the left of each row, and we were ordered to follow them should we not catch what Captain William or Bosun Doug were barking at us. Initially, that made us only slow down as we looked over at our row leaders, but once everyone got the hang of marching in step, turning and moving together, we looked like a synchronous unit.
The first of the pike drills took place at the encampment at a space cleared of visitors and campers, and wasn't a difficult drill; merely a series of maneuvers to get us familiar with carrying and moving with a pike (a spearhead on a long pole) and marching. The second set of pike drills were more interesting, as they took place on the grounds outside of the Castillo, which by the afternoon was teaming with onlookers. We marched up and down hills, turned left and right, and eventually did a "pike push". This involved packing tightly together two by two and having two groups eventually ram and push into one another. It all was done as safely as possible, with the (now hoarse) William and Doug watching over us. But of course, my helmet had to go flying off. Then the monmouth cap went flying as I was pressing hard against the other group, nearly tipping myself sideways toward a hill. The skirmish was then halted to ensure I was alright (and I was...just those darned hats fell and my attention wavered). We resorted to a few more formations while our men with firearms engaged in firing over the water. Sergeant Davis also joined us, surveying both groups with a shrewd eye to ensure we were "up to snuff". Then we headed back to camp, breaking our march as we moseyed south down St George Street.
Yeouch: During the drills at the Castillo, crewmate Tomm walked behind us, flogging our backs and forcing us back into formation with a leftover rope contraption given to him by Willie Wobble. It looked like a cat-o-nine-tails. Didn't hurt...much.
Those of us engaging in the raid had to head out around 4:30 while dinner preparations continued. The English headed south on St George towards a side street, and the Spanish made way to a partial Fort structure north of the St George businesses and eateries (near a well camouflaged parking garage). Once it was time to move, the pikemen made their way further south to a park where we marched around the perimeter (encountering smoke bombs for atmosphere...*coughs*). Sergeant Johnson's son Alex volunteered to call orders for William at times when his voice could not carry, and as we made way north on St George Street, I took notice of how many people were watching the Raid. Literally hundreds of people lined the street and sidewalks and watched excitedly, taking pictures or video. And several of the crew ensured visitors kept a safe distance from us while we marched along. We ended up at a grassy area across from the partial Fort (where the Spanish were held up), and we (the English) resorted to firing guns and cannons (and vice versa), engaging in sword fights, and flanking the audience with pikemen. We stood there glaring menacingly at them (or squinting at the sunset). The English lost a few men (Doug's son William, and Conrad), and when I mentioned our loss Tomm made his rounds and whipped me for speaking out of turn. I explained why I spoke up, and he looked over solemnly to the dead, only saying "Oh."
Chants: As we made our way up St George Street, we shouted "For the King...For Captain Searles...For the Prize.." several times over.
A few more maneuvers followed, and we were then ordered to engage the Spanish at the fort wall with our swords and pikes. They were on the other side (bloody cowards) and we had every intention of getting men over, but only managed to attack with weapons at the wall for a minute or two. Following that the English backed up and allowed the Spanish Captain (Brian) to engage Sergeant Davis (as Captain Searle) in a surrender.
Note: As the raid took place, leaflets were handed out to the crowds to provide explanation on the event. I thought this was a great idea, as it gives visitors a chance to learn more about the town and its history. The raid itself was surely not the grand spectacle presented to folks that day. Alas, reality held fear, injury, death and destruction, but bringing this bit of history to the public (slightly sweetened) does do something for interest in the raid and the locations affected, as it and those involved will be remembered. For more information on Searles Raid, visit http://www.searlesbuccaneers.org .
After the English won (huzzah!), everyone headed back to camp to settle in for the evening and prepare for dinner. I switched my kit back over to that of a lady, got a plate of food and sat down with Mickey and Kate to eat and chat. They offered me what turned out to be a yummy drink (hard pomagranate lemonade), and from there the camp wound down, settling into a few groups that sang songs (including Loch Lomond, and All For Me Grog), toasted marshmellows, and told stories and jokes. Towards the end of the evening, a few of us ended up at the wall by A1A, and we watched police in action going after somebody either at the Castillo across from us, or the restaurant/bar to the right of us, or both. Also, the highlight of the night was that Mickey got his hair prettied up by a few of the ladies at camp, but I think that's a story for him to tell. :)
I slept well again, and awoke to the wonderful smell of Willie's breakfast burritos cooking at the fire. After breakfast, I began keeping in touch with my dad via shellphone, as he was heading up from my place in Orlando. He was in on business, and wanted to venture up and see me at a reenactment, even if it was just at the tail end of it. I met up with him and introduced him to the crew, and he helped me take down my tent and pack everything up. From there, I changed into mundane wear, we headed to Scarlett O'Hara's for lunch, and then I headed back. After many a hug and a "see yah real soon", I headed out. I reflected a bit on my way home, recalling that I met a great many more folks from the crew (even family in some cases), hung out with a few PiPsters again, enjoyed several nights of "jollification", and learned a bit about what is involved in a battle. I really wish the weekend never ended, as it was one of the best historical events I've been to so far.
Pay no attention to dates on the pictures, as my new camera was a bit wonky with getting that set up.
Pics: via Photobucket
===============================
T Minus 10, 9, 8...
I had an event the week after Searles that took up a few days, but it was a little more lax in terms of schedule and clothing (bikini, anyone?). My dad was in town to convene with teammates on an upcoming rocket launch at the Cape. They (and I) received permission to attend a VIP viewing, and ended up at the Radisson Inn Oceanfront at Melborne. The view was spectacular as it was right up against the beach. Made it hard to work the first day I was there, but I soldiered through and then rewarded myself with a little body surfing, lounging on the beach and relaxing in the jacuzzi. I'll skip over to Sunday, as our launch kept getting pushed forward due to the shuttle Discovery's launch getting moved. To clarify, if weather isn't on par, a launch is either moved or scrubbed. If it is moved, any other launch scheduled after it must be done at least 48 hours after it to allow all launch related sites time to reset their systems.
So, we ended up seeing the shuttle launch (STS-119) from the Kennedy Space Center on Sunday, and it was an amazing sight. The ride home however, lacked a little something. I think I'd call it...speed. Took us 4.5 hours to get back to my place. Oh no, I'm not doing that again. I'll stick to camping out or heading to a hotel on the beach.
Sadly, my dad and a few of his coworkers (who paid to stay a day later) still didn't get to see their rocket launch on St Patrick's Day. They checked the launch hotline, which noted everything was a go, but when they were hanging on the bus, waiting to go the driver turned around with a rather grim expression, not eager to pass on the bad news. And the hotline still said go at that point!
On the bright side, I'm glad we saw a launch. It wasn't on my bucket list, but it's one of those things not many people get to see.
Pics: Space Coast Pics
Video: Not uploaded...yet.
===============================
Making It Up as I Go
I made it to my first day at an archeology dig this past weekend (the 21st), and while it was fun, I could barely lift my arms for two days! In the interest of keeping the site under wraps, I'll only say it's an hour or so north of my home. Being the geek that I am, I played the Raiders of the Lost Ark soundtrack during the drive, eventually running out of music ten minutes before I found my destination. I met with the dig lead (Willet), filled out volunteer paperwork, and then proceeded to follow him in his truck down a VERY bumpy road to the site. (Note: I've since found an alternate route with paved roads). We made it to the main site (one of five in the area), where we found two other volunteers - Lotti and cousin Justin - waiting for us. Willet's truck unfortunately suffered a flat from the drive over, so he spent a little time getting that fixed with the aide of his parents, who live nearby. The rest of us aimed for a plotted area where sod dirt was dug out in precise layers (3 total, it seemed), and then tossed onto a sifter (see pics) attached to a very tall tripod. We each took turns shaking the heck out of the sifter, letting the dirt fall into a pile below, and then examined the remnants. That day we ound arrowheads, Spanish and Native American pottery, along with lithic pieces that probably broke off from knives and other implements. Willet and Lotti regaled me with tales of finding larger (nearly complete) bits of pottery, along with a few translucent glass beads. They have a bit of a competition going to see who finds the next one. I'd say their biggest find was probably their first for the area, that being a post marking one edge of the 17th century Spanish mission they're hoping to plot out with continued excavation.
After working the site for a few hours, Lotti, Justin and I ventured out for lunch to the Dam Diner (built next to a dam...hence the name...heh). I had breakfast that included a pancake the size of Texas, and by the time we got back we were all fairly eager to nap in lieu of dig. But, the shovels and sifters called out to us, tempting us with the possibility of more finds, so we got back to work. An hour or so later we completed the first layer of a new rectangular plotted area, and Willet proceeded to take down size and depth measurements to go with the bag of finds we had for the day. From there, he called it a day for the team and headed to his lab to do more analysis and write ups, while the rest of us said our goodbyes, and noted we'd see each other in a few weeks, if not sooner.
Pics: Not uploaded...yet.
posted by Jennifer Lynn at Tuesday, March 24, 2009
