Catherine looked to her guaridan. "That would be agreeable. And I should like to learn."

She smiled at Doctor Solar. "How ingenious, Doctor!"

"Exercises? Well, I should look to purchase... well, perhaps not" she said. "I know there are dresses for ladies to play some sports, and one could be useful for exercise. But it is doubtful they come in mourning... I would not want to act shamefully by looking like I was sporting and at leisure when my poor mother has passed away."

She looked interested at the process of landing.

The ship has been hovering above about 5 feet above the ground now for a few minutes. It's inside the walled fortress of Gibraltar, not near the docks.

The anchor ropes get screwed into the ground, with the help of the soldiers. The soldiers seem to be reasonably friendly, since you clearly aren't 'The Enemy', though, these days, it's not really clear who that might be... and could change daily.

Some crates are pulled from a nearby storehouse and stacked up to form a set of steps, and the ship's gangplank can now reach that. Thus, Catherine can walk down the gangplank to the crates and then step down from one to the next until she's on the ground, gallantly assisted by the soldiers.

Brie and Felicity follow, with Aubrey and Dr. Solar bringing up the rear.

Even Petras disembarks, assured by the soldiers that they will guard the ship.

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 43):

     Once on the ground, Joseph motions for Felicity to join him, then he calls Brie, Catherine, and Grimsby to join them.

     "Before we all go off in different directions, to gather supplies, I'd like to address a, uh, something of a, um, delicate nature." Joseph raises his right hand up to the back of his head, under the brim of his hat, and rubs the back of his neck.

     "Delicate for you ladies, that is," Joseph adds, nodding towards Brie and Catherine, "as it involves your, uh, your clothes..."

     "Now, we already encountered a gopher-hole in the road, back when we first tried to get aboard this, here, flying ship--that being, it's both difficult, as well as being a little, um, a little, uh..."

     Joseph suddenly swings his hand down from the back of his head, to slap his thigh in annoyance,

     "Dang it!  I'm saying that it's hard enough trying to steady a rope, or a rope ladder, and keep an eye on the person climbing up--but it's dang near impossible to do so, if the person doing the climbing up is wearing a dress!  It's both hard to climb in a dress--plus it's...difficult...for the person standing below!"

     "And the trip out to Mars will take a while--and I have some experience aboard ships, so take my word--moving around on a ship wearing, uh, frilly dresses and...such...well, it just ain't done.  Shouldn't be done, that is.  And, from what-all I've heard about the place, most of Mars is pretty wild--Grimsby, you'd be the one to speak on that more--but I reckon it can't be any worse than some of the places in Texas that me and Felicity have seen."

     "So, what I'm trying to say, here, is that it would be a fine idea, I think, for you, Miss Brie, and you, Miss Catherine, to, uh, maybe go with Felicity, here, and get yourselves some more...wilderness appropriate...clothing."

     Joseph turns and speaks to Felicity, "You know what I mean, right, Felicity?  Get 'em proper boots--one's made for walking around out on The Range--and fit 'em with some decent pants!  I don't know if there's any of them blue corduroy workpants from outta San Francisco, to be found here, in Gibraltar, but something like that.  Or, if nothing else, what with Spain being within spitting distance, at least load 'em up with those culottes that all the High Señoras wear.  And gloves--a decent pair of hard-wearing gloves--range gloves--not those light, fancy things....and at least one hat that'll actually keep the weather off'n their heads."

     "You know what I mean, Fel!  These ladies need to be outfitted like we was going for a run across Comanche Territory, back in Texas.  Right?"

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 44):

Grimsby appears to redden a little, but overcomes his embarrassment and says, "If the ladies plan  to stay within the immediate British colonial area, they could retain their present clothing, but it is true that if they wish to venture out into wilder parts of Mars beyond European control, they might find more practical styles useful."

Felicity listened to Joe stumble and work his way through with a slowly growing grin. Her hands came up, fingers joining together behind her head. Hat tipped up to let her expression be fully seen. There wasn't any sort of secret that she was enjoying the sight. Nodding along as he struggled, and refusing to come to his aid.

"I for one do not plan to head to Mars to meet a man from England. I can meet him just about anywhere else I would please to go," Felicity added, "I'll be headed into the bush, or near as they got, and bringing home something worth having a conversation about. Maybe two. That was half the reason to head to Africa, and a change in destination ain't changed the way the math works. Not that any of you have to accompany me. But best to be prepared.

"Ladies, I guess we're on an old fashioned trouser hunt."

In reply to Felicity Van Horn (msg # 46):

Grimsby remarks, "If you are looking for impressive hunting trophies, Miss Van Horn, I assure you that Mars can provide creatures that match or surpass anything Earth has to offer."

Catherine blushed beneath her veil. "I am an English Lady. It hardly seems fitting for me to wear workpants! Especially while I am in mourning. I'll see if I can find anything suitable"

"I should like to see some of the Martian wildlife."

"Catherine, My Dear," Aubrey says, "I fear you have led too sheltered a life!"

"Felicity's Levis notwithstanding, women in active rolls have taken to wearing trousers from a practical point of view. Besides the riding breeches, adventurous women--such as yourself--who choose to go on hunting expeditions or exploring find it absurd to wear flouncy dresses that get in the way of nearly everything!"

"Why, it's become reasonable, if not yet fashionable, for women with babies to wear them if they have to climb stairs in the house. Otherwise, they risk tripping on the long skirts and tumbling down the stairs and injuring not only themselves but the baby."

"And then there's the trousers worn my women on the Isle of Capri. Someone has coined the term 'capris' because of that, but I've also heard them referred to as clam-diggers for when you wish to go wading in the sea sand to dig for clams."

"During the flight to Mars and for your time on Mars, you will thank us!"

Petras does not seem concerned about the security of the ship. He may have an innocent trust in the army men on duty or else he knows something the others don't.

He heads off into the town to buy supplies.

"Well, I'm not digging for clams, and I certainly don't want anyone to think I have a baby." Catherine points out. "But I will look for clothes, if my guardian thinks it prudent."

In reply to Catherine Harston (msg # 51):

Grimsby says, "I should think it might be prudent to have something more convenient than full skirts, in case we do find ourselves in the wilder country. It will always be your choice when and whether to wear them."

Catherine nodded obediently, although she was pouting a little. "Yes, of course."

Brie understood Catherine's attitude all too well, having experienced it herself when she was in London. Fortunately, Brie had other options to fall back on.

"If you're ready, Catherine, us ladies can head in to town to see what shops there are," Brie says.

"I've never been to Gibraltar before, so I don't know what we're likely to find. I'm sure there'll be at least one shop. Although it does occur to me that for any serious shopping, I'm sure the residents either cross the Bay to Algeciras or sail up the coast to Barcelona or Marseilles or even Monaco."

"Anyway, I'm pretty sure we won't find any clams on Mars. What Aubrey was trying to say in his usual man's-point-of-view manner, English woman are finally learning what most of the rest of the world has already learned--there are times when a more practical method of dress is not only advisable but required!"

"If nothing else, we can always make what you need! It's going to be long trip to Mars!"

She had to admit--to herself--that she couldn't believe she was actually going to Mars! Well, they hadn't left yet. And it could be a dangerous journey.

As I understand it, the group is heading off in three smaller groups.

Brie, Catherine and Felicity are heading into the town to shop for some 'sensible shoes'.

Aubrey, Mathias and Petras are off getting supplies for the long voyage.

Grimsby and Joseph are doing... what?

OOC: Unless Joseph has other plans, I think Grimsby would probably escort his ward Catherine in her shopping.

In reply to Grimsby H. Baskerville (msg # 56):

OOC: Nope, you're good to go.  Joseph has experience in both provisioning a vessel for sailing, as well as outfitting an expedition--so I was thinking to have him go do some of that.  I just forgot to have Joseph ask how long the trip would take, and I've been trying to figure out how to get that info, now that Petra has left the ship.  I suppose I'll just fudge it ^_^
     And Joseph left a trunk in storage at the hotel where he'd been rooming, before we all left the city, that he needs to go and get (it's a steamer trunk--too big to strap to the horse he was riding ^_^)

In reply to Joseph Rudyard Hunnisett (msg # 57):

OOC: Very good.

So, the three women are being escorted by Grimsby. Don't worry, Grimsby... Felicity is there to protect you!

The other four men are heading off to get provisions, both the practical kind and the varietal kind.

Joseph's inquiry of Petras results in being informed that Petras's calculations indicate that the trip to Mars will take about 63 days. There could always be problems that extend it a bit and his calculations could be off, meaning it could also be of shorter duration.

"My intention... and the ship was designed around this... is to buy supplies for 73 days out and 73 days back, in case we find ourselves unwanted on Mars," Petras explains to Aubrey, Joseph and Mathias.

"The biggest problems will be air and water. We'll need about 11 liters a day per person; that's about 13,000 liters just for drinking. More for cooking and bathing."

"I have compressors on board that can compress the air into storage tanks. In addition, we'll need plants, which will all be inside in, essentially, a greenhouse. We'll use our waste to water and fertilize the plants."

"I was considering getting a cat to go with us, but couldn't decide if that was cruel. Certainly a dog wouldn't be able to go outside for two months!"

"Do any of you have other suggestions?"

In reply to GM SteamRoller (msg # 59):

Grimsby gallantly escorts Catherine and Brie toward the market, keeping a wary eye out for pickpockets and similar riffraff. and trying to discourage any importunate beggars.

In reply to Petras Valois (msg # 60):

     After a minute of mental gymnastics--converting Petra's metric system numbers into ones he'd been trained with--Joseph nods in agreement.

     "Your numbers on the water requirements sound right to me, Petra.  Maybe even a tiny bit excessive--but then I was trained for provisioning vessels that were both crewed by professional sailors who are used to some privation aboard ship, as well as for provisioning vessels that, usually, weren't more than a few days away from a port.  But both my father and uncle were sailors, before me, and from their stories of sailing on long voyages, your numbers sound good."

     "Similarly, though we shall require a professional level of attention during this trip, I do not believe we shall require anything like a military, or even a merchant marine-like, level of discipline aboard your ship, Petra.  Normally, under such regulation, the meals of the crew are somewhat...basic...and consist of an established weight and volume of food per meal--for easy tracking of usage.  On naval vessels that I've...been aboard...there were large crews, split into several 'watches', or 'work crews', which worked multiple shifts during the course of the day."

     "Each meal worked out to be about one quarter-pound, to one third-pound--um, about...one-hundred thirty grams?--per meal, and maybe seconds.  If you could stomach it."

     Joseph pauses to grin, "Back in my Grandfather's day, the Cooks aboard ships weren't known for any great skill in the galley."

     "Things are different in most navies, today.  The Admirals have finally come to realize that a well fed sailor is a happy sailor, and that a happy sailor is more productive and less likely to mutiny."

     "But for us, on this trip, we can probably forego trying to optimize the ratio of needed consumable bulk versus limited storage space--there's just a handful of us, after all.  So we can be a bit excessive in our consumables estimates, if we wish.  Hmm...seventy-three days between ports, you said?  Then...say...plan on needing--just numbers, mind you, not specific items!--plan for three meals a day, with each person eating an average of half-a-pound of food per meal--that would be just over two-hundred grams?--for a total of one-and-a-half pounds of food per day, per person."

     "If we can swing a good deal with the Chandler, I'd even recommend going with two pounds per day, per person.  That way we can allow for luxury items."

     "We must get as much tinned, dried and smoked items as possible.  Of course we will get fresh food items, as well, but most of that will be consumed in the first ten days--that's about as long as fresh items can last, I'm afraid."

     "And, while I am trained to provision a vessel for sea," Joseph adds, grinning again, "that does not mean my cooking skills are anything to write home about.  I'm afraid that heating up beans, bacon and coffee--as well as charring a piece of meat over an open flame--are the limits of my culinary talents."

     Joseph then places his right hand, palm down, over his heart, and assumes a somber demeanor,

     "Now, as a Gentleman of Texas, I would not presume to say that Cooking is 'Woman's Work'--especially since I believe that Miss Felicity is a better Gunhand than myself, and I know that she is quite willing to express herself in the language of firearms.  However, if one of you Brave Gentlemen should wish to broach the subject with the ladies and, assuming you survive the encounter, receive a positive reception to the idea, then a list of specific items needed for specific menus, would be greatly appreciated."

     "As for establishing a greenhouse on board..." Joseph shrugs his shoulders, "I'm afraid that while I was raised on my uncle's Rancho after my father died, I had known from an early age that I would follow in my father's footsteps--as well as my uncle's, incidentally--and find a life on the sea.  So I paid little attention to all things farming, as I grew up."

     "Although I do know the process for leeching potassium nitrate from a manure pile.  All of the Ranchos in--where I grew up, did that.  And supervising the processes was a chore I had to do, as a teenager."

     "Now, as for bringing a cat aboard--yes, it's a well known fact that many a sailing vessel has kept a cat, or even cats, aboard.  Even for long duration voyages.  Mostly it was merchant ships, though, because the cats hunted down any vermin that managed to get aboard--rats, and such."

     "But my uncle once told me that he had observed, as steam propulsion became used more and more, he believed that he saw fewer and fewer cats on board ships.  And that he never saw another Ship's Cat after the introduction of Ironclads into modern navies.  He never understood why--as the appearance of rats aboard ships never seemed to diminish.  He always thought it might have something to do with the vibrations from the engines."

"All the great chefs are men," Aubrey points out. "I, myself, am a decent cook, even if I do say so myself, but I'm not going to pretend I could handle the cooking on a ship in space!"

"If any of us are utterly atrocious cooks, then that person can be excused from cooking duties, but I think a rotation... each of us taking turns preparing meals... is best for morale over such a long journey."

"Yes, I know that isn't the way it works on a ship at sea, but keep in mind that each position on a ship is recruited specifically. If a ship needs a cook, then they hire someone to be the cook."

"I suspect that most of us won't have much to do on the voyage. Petras seems to have things well in hand in that respect. What we can do, however, is learn to navigate space by the stars, learn how the ship operates, and all the rest."

"We'll also need to perform exercises. I noticed a few suits and helmets Petras has in storage, so presumably we could don those now and then for a stroll around deck. Or just a way to step out of the confines of the cabin, though I daresay they are meant for making repairs."

"Books! Yes! Most definitely! Learning will be more absorbing than reading for fun, but we can buy several of those, too. Each of us can then read it in turn."

"My main concern is about alcohol. I would suggest we avoid gin and whiskey and vodka. Not sure how ale will fare, but a couple cases of wine would be appreciated, right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:11, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

In reply to Aubrey St. Claire (msg # 64):

     Hearing Aubrey making suggestions for supplies and shipboard activities, Joseph ventures to offer up something he heard while in German East Africa.

     "Ah...Aubrey.  I think we might want to avoid anything that is fermented--possibly even carbonated, like sarsaparilla." Joseph offers, "When I was in German East Africa, a few years back, I got into a game of pinochle with some mounted Schutztruppen boys and this pair of Fliegertruppen Officers--well, anyway, one of the Fliegertruppen..."

     Joseph pauses to look around at those listening,

     "Um, the Fliegertruppe, that's...I guess you'd call it the Imperial German Army Air Service.  They fly Zeppelins for the German Army.  Anyway, one of these guys starts telling us this tale he heard from his brother, who was in the--what'd he call it?--the Kaiserliche Marine-Raumtruppe.  The Imperial German Navy Space Service.  This guy says his bother was aboard one of the big German Space Zeppelins, halfway to Venus, when a tiny meteor punctures the hull, and sucks all the air out of one of the crew sleeping compartments."

     "Now, the Germans, they can't open the door into this compartment until somebody goes outside in a suit and seals the hole the meteor punched through the hull, and that takes an hour-or-so.  When they finally get the hole patched, get some air into the room, and get the door open, they see that the two crewmen that had been sleeping in there were still in their beds...mostly.  The brother who's a Raumtruppe, he explained that when all the air is suddenly let out, it leaves with such force that it's almost like an explosion."

     "And that explosive evacuation of air is so powerful, it can suck a whole human body through even the smallest of holes, he says.  So the Marine-Raumtruppe equips their bunks with straps, which the crew use to hold themselves down in their beds.  The two crewmen who had been sleeping in this room were still strapped down in their beds.  But the way this guy I was playing cards with tells the story, his brother told him that something really weird happened, after all the air was gone from the room."

     "The lack of air must have killed the two crewman almost immediately, of course.  But after that, when the room was in complete vacuum, apparently the bodies of those two men started to blow up!  No, wait, that's not what he said--the word he used was...'aufblasen'.  That's 'blow up' like a balloon--inflate!  That's it!  The bodies had inflated like balloons, until they popped."

     "The Doctor aboard the Zep thought that it might have had something to do with gasses trapped inside their bodies, expanding when there was no air pressure pushing in on the men's bodies from outside.  My card playing friend said that his brother made the joke that he hoped the supply closet where they kept all the beer never lost it's air pressure--and that's when the Doctor got a strange look on his face, the brother said, and then the Doctor suddenly rushed off to find the Captain."

     "So, if there's any truth to that story, we might not want to be drinking anything that fizzes--because we'd just be putting extra gasses into our bodies, and that could be either uncomfortable or dangerous in outer space.  Maybe both."

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine, Joseph!" Mathias responds.

"Not all ales have bubbles in them, and as far as wine goes, that's only true for champagne."

"I daresay, though, that if the ship loses pressure, we'll all be dead anyway."

He continues shopping, only slightly disappointed at the lack of selection to be found here in Gibraltar.