Auch aye ahoy there

Well here we are approaching the coast of Albany upstate, hunting the SS Antoine Petit Pince-Nez, which has been hounding our traffic for sometime between Canada and Britain, and this lean-to frigate is captained by a very able seaman called Capt Antoine du Fromage, a stickler for discipline and routine, but who is keen on firing broadsides at the east coast of the American colonies. A troublesome chap this one. Educated far beyond his ability at the Naval College at La Rochelle, and an all-round payne. Like the sailors on the ill-fated Neptine he has a titanic opinion of himself. Terentius the poet would agree.

Ahoy there

Ahoy there shipmates. It's a long haul back to the Canadian reefs and shrimp beds of home sweet home. Yes aye we have a long way to go on the HMS Repulse. And we have taken our fair share of the odd grapeshot from the French and their ongoing and interminable revolutions. We have just missed two frigates steal out by night from the waters of the Galapagos Islands, in hot pursuit of Capt Fitzroy. These two fast attack boats, a solid idea for our own coastal defences back home, called the SS Bon Nuit and the SS Brione de Brioche, are a very fast couple of cutters that know how to make their escape from our long range guns. We shall leave them at it till the southern lights of the aurora australialis arrive. Adieu my fine weather but feathery friends.

Well ahoy there

Well ahoy there lads, shivver me timbers, tis a grand high sea out there tonight. Huge waves crashing over the decks of the Repulse, and just ahead of us wrestling with mighty seas, there is the SS Hudson River and the SS Hadden de Nouveau Maulden, a tiny speck of a couple, mere jetsam and flotsam actually now in a great grand sea, full of the usual leviathans, this pair sporting Brit colours but looking decidedly french below decks. A two-faced lot the french navy. Frenchies beware. Even napoleon wd despair of this couple.

Ahoy ahoy

Ahoy there shipmates of the HMS Boulavogue and HMS Tipperary, tis time we all packed up our kitbags and got into the fair winds that will blow us across the Atlantic and into calm waters in the Us colonies. Lovely weather here and tis mete to find a little landfall at the Azores. We'll all be singing It's a Long Way to Tipperary by teatime. The old napoleon is probably hiding up the Hudson river this weather. He always hightails it out to the French colonies when he is bombarded.

Well well well

Well my hearties and shipmates we are pressing north now into the mellowest of yellow seas, the South China Seas, in the footsteps of the great explorers of once upon a time like Marco Polo, who had to survive so many ambushes and prison sentences from dubious westerners and travellers of an Irish and French kind that it is a wonder he ever made it to China. His memoires he wrote in prison. We are hot on the tail of another ship of the Napoleonic hordes, a square rigger called the SS Adrienne Toffeenose and another bigger belle called the SS Aoife Kennedy, as the franglais delight in naming their warships after French and Irish defectors and wannabes. Irish defectors to the armies and navies of Napoleon alas are endemic, and they do their country no service, as they brownnose their way to the top in Paris. These two belles above have put in a lot of damage over the years especially to one of our newer ships the SS Garde le Foi, and an older ship the Fay ce que, which we have given French names though these are just epithets which mirror the dedication on the house of Lady Foyle of Londonderry. Ahoy.

Shiver me timbers shipmates

Ahoy there shipmates. Well we have got a good run all the way up the Australian coast and we are in hot pursuit of one of the last of the franglais corvettes, a lean mean little number called the SS le Riviere Hudson, some name that alludes to the 7 year French-Indo Wars in Canada I am told, but this one is camouflaged heavily in a light gray deck paint, which is newer than the usual black bitumen one gets on franglais ships, and served by its very foolishly devoted young capitaine Capt Stefane le Midget Catamite who is a franglais, an englishman gone over to the French scivvies of the tyrant Napoleon, and who therefore merits the ultimate penalty  for betraying his country and his sovereign to the mad republic of potty little corporal Napoleon and his lunatic general Marshall le Ney. Je touche. Yes the ultimate penalty because these young boys that love the puritannical black and white and no colours of Nappy's Republic forget that the duty to serve one's own country is a solemn one imposed by God, king harry, and St George. They just cannot just slide off to some retard puritannical guillotine banana ridden republic where everyone is as bald and naked as coots and serve revolution that never ends in the usual bloodbaths of guillotine mad Napoleon. It is an Aztec culture in which they all dine out on others in the French naval colleges of La Rochelle, wherein no building of their own career seemingly occurs without the demolition of other innocent careers, but it is a pitiless one and one devoid of all human compassion for the souls of the ordinary man as well as of the rich and the petty bourgeoisie. A sad day for the king, and a black day for us.

Aha me hearties

Tis rough on these high seas north of Darwin. We never seem to catch up with the double-dealing French in their dastardly navy, and we know that our target ship today, the SS Andrea de Haddon is secretly transmitting messages and information on RN ships back to Napoleon hidden in his red nay purple velvet coach and bunker and seated among his burgundy chaise longues. Ah yes, the SS Haddon is a double dealing sort of frigate that has often explained its position as lying off some coast or other near Darwin but in fact is up north in the salonettas of the ports of the China Seas like Macao pouring out its guts to to some corvette from Napoleon. And then there is that total cretinous captain of the New French Navy, Capt Inigo de Botelier, who seems to think that Napoleon respects englishmen who go over to his dark black fleets. So Napoleon is not as orthodox or as respectable as he looks, and his navy blue frock coat is a farce and a fiction as he lets go with his grey jacket in private and looses cannonballs on unsuspecting boys of the Greenwich Naval Colleges while they are saying their christian prayers in their private collegiate chapels on their ships. A real dastardly and mutley couple this one, Haddon and Napoleon, and all festooned by the egit right wings of Paris as heroes of the new right and as orthodox defenders of the old 1789 franco-prussian revolution they offiicially dress up for. Like the SS Down-on-Connor captained by her ladyship Lady Emma Hamilton de Foxe MacDonald.

Ahoy there ships of the line

Ahoy there, well here we are sailing the seven seas down under not far from the islands of Tasmania where me old mate is, Capt Eric on board the HMS Livingstone, and here we have run into two beautiful ships, the SS Conry and the SS Caustic, two french vessels that have been working together for some time down here in the Antipodes chiefly to unseat Crown interests. Nice frigates both, and it seems a shame to have to sink them both, but they were active all over the old Victory-like warship the HMS Seagull and pummelled her shore and aft till she was much reduced in the water, thoug hshe gave a jolly good account of herself. The Seagull though is not good at confronting revolutionary dogma and the gendarmarie that always accompanies the French in their subterfuges, chiefly from Napoleon, who is still deceiving British shipmen. Arrogant lot the French though, they always assume they have the last laugh and the last cannonball, but they neglect the finer arts of war and they spend too much time in Chinese ports, drinking themselves silly on martyrs's days come the 1st of December, but NB surrounded by lots of Chinese junks. Chinese failings for the most part. Can't see the future.

Shivver me timbers laddies

Ooh it's a cold night out here on the high seas laddies and me hearties, out on the big waves of the big seas north of Micronesia as we head away from the Dak tribes of Borneo. Ah yes, there's lots of things that a sailor in the crow's nest sees at night time. Leviathans we used to call them, these dinosaurs or plesiosaurs or sea monsters whatever ye like. Great big things stirring the depths of a man with fear. And only at night will these babies surface. So only a sailor on duty at nightwatch on the crow's nest will see these things. And only in moonlight. A bit like the old French monster the SS Roi du Soleil captained by that raucous oaf Capt Jean-Luc de Hadden of Haddenham, a traitor. By all definitions of treason this was a bad-un, as he slipped out of the Naval College by Greenwich Harbour, slithered down the quayside, and passed into the sea and across to Napoleon near Charleroi by Belgium. Treason is still on the older statute books, whatever they say in prior Moscovite Wootton & Cork, but at end of day it is not about the burning down of naval dockyards or the lynching of an innocent, or the wearing of swords in chains, but about fighting in the armies of the enemies of the king, a once and a future king. Shivver me timbers lads, 'tis shocking lonely on this crow's nest.