Gran Colombia, H1/1909

[The Rock Doctor]

1 January 1909:  La Prensa Nacional

One tricolor replaced another today as the former French Guyana and the French Lesser Antillies were admitted into the Republic of Gran Colombia.  This most recent territorial acquisition by Gran Colombia extends our border well east, and creates new borders with the Netherlands, which has a variety of modest holdings in the region.

President Rey Alizandro welcomed approximately half a million Francophones to the Republic by noting that he looked forward to a prosperous and healthy Francophone community within the cosmopolitan fabric of Gran Colombian society.  He noted the significant yet underdeveloped economy of French Guyana in particular, where placer gold has been found in the remote south and considerable agricultural potential exists along the coast.

The transition was not entirely without wrinkles, however, as Ministry of Security officials confirmed that Guayana Francesa's criminal law does not quite mesh seamlessly with Gran Colombian federal law.  An unnamed official within the Ministry noted, "In Gran Colombia, vice-related crimes such as gambling and prostitution are prosecuted at the state level, whereas in France, these are offences under the national criminal code.  Consequently, the repeal of French national laws and their replacement by Gran Colombian federal law means that vice-related activities in Guayana Francesa are currently decriminalized."

Asked if quick action would be taken to resolve this loophole, the official replied, "You would have to speak to our colleagues at the state level, as they would have jurisdiction."

A spokesman for the new State Government of Guayana Francesa told this reporter, "We are very busy managing all other aspects of the transition, and our offices are under-resourced.  We do not have the time to prod the federal government into revising its laws."

9 January 1909:  Pago Pago, Colombian Polynesia

Old colleagues in the shipping industry sat down for drinks in the corner of a tin-clad tavern.  The harsh sounds of construction were only barely muffled by the sheet metal walls, which satisfied these particular gentlemen:  it'd be harder for third parties to listen in on their conversation.

"I like what you're doing with the place", the Swiss man remarked.  "We never did get around to developing it at all, despite the quality of the harbour."

"I expect that's because your main west-east trade routes lie further north", the Colombian replied.  "Not much need for you folks to support operations south of here."

The Swissman nodded.  "Not unless we establish a foothold in Maoria.  But they're pretty insular; about the only thing that'll open up that market is if the NSN goes down and makes 'em."

The Colombian smirked.  "So what brings you down here, then?  Not strictly to see me, I trust?"

"Hell, no", the Swissman retorted.  "No, I'm on the lookout for some tramps to add to the line.  We lost three of our eight to the f**king Brandies before we could re-flag, and I'm at risk of losing a heap of cash if I can't maintain the contracts I signed before the war.  Problem is, the insurance hasn't paid out yet and the market on tramps is tight as a result of war losses on both sides."

"War can hurt the bottom line, alright", the Colombian agreed, slugging down some lukewarm ale. 

"You guys aren't helping, you know.  I lost a gig to Puerto Rico because you guys closed the canal to us.  What gives?  The war's over."

"I guess the government doesn't like what's going on in your neck of the woods these days; you guys have had two abrupt changes in government this decade.  Maybe they're worried there'll be another one", the Colombian answered.

"Tempest in a tea pot", the Swissman said derisively.  "Nothing for you to worry about."

"Easy for you to say that", the Colombian disagreed.  "Wasn't that long ago you guys were in deep with the Eastern Kingdom, raising merry hell on our front porch.  You guys have a bad rep.  Defend yourselves if you want, but face facts:  You're shut out of a lot of markets because you fly the flag of a pariah, your insurance premiums are astronomical, and neither of us would be surprised if you guys are in another shooting war with the French or Chinese in a year or two.  Can't be good for business."

"Yeah, well, what am I going to do?  Sell out and retire?"

The Colombian replied, "Sure - sell out, anyway.  It happens that I have a backer with deep pockets just now; let me buy you out.  I'll create a vice-president position for you, give you some shares."

The Swissman's eyes narrowed.  "Whose's your backer?"

The Colombian picked up a copy of the Shipping News Weekly from the chair on his left.  The front page contained a large photograph of Gran Colombia's Minister of Industry, Sebastien de Soto.

"Yeah, those would be some deep pockets", the Swissman replied.

[The Rock Doctor]

15 February 1908:  Cartagena

"I was hoping to acquire a battleship command, Sir", Captain Frederico Juarez said in a not-quite-pleading tone to Vice-Admiral Castillo. 

The old goat's lone eyeball gazed back at Juarez with a complete lack of empathy.  "I'm sure you did, Captain", the Armada's senior personnel officer replied.  "Every captain that plants his behind in that chair feels the same way.  Unfortunately, there aren't enough battleships to go 'round, so it's my task to find you a suitable vocation in the interim."

Juarez nodded.  "I understand", he said, recognizing that arguing with Castillo would be pointless, and probably counter-productive.  "There must be numerous positions in which my recent experiences in the war can be put to good use, Sir."

"Fewer than you might think", Castillo growled.  "The last thing I want to do is put you somewhere that isolates your knowledge and experience from the Armada as a whole.  What we need is to have you spreading your knowledge across the widest range of personnel possible."

"Yes, Sir.  Perhaps a flag captain's position would suffice?"

Castillo ignored the suggestion.  "Here are your new orders.  You will be attached to Vice-Admiral Calderon's staff to provide insight into new technologies being developed by his people.  This is more a reflection of your report on Austrian fire control than your war experience, though that won't hurt - we have an incipient fire control program underway and it's felt that you may hasten its success considerably."

"That sounds like a long-term project, Sir", Juarez said, unable to hide the dismay in his voice.

"Yes, Captain, you'll be a landlubber for quite some time", Castillo agreed.  "But look at it this way:  once that fire control program is completed, we'll be testing it on one of our new capital ships.  Obviously, those tests will work best if the ship's captain is familiar with the fire control program."

Juarez nodded solemnly, but in his head, a giddy little voice exclaimed Si! 

[The Rock Doctor]

18 February 1908:  Cartagena

"Chief!", a booming voice exclaimed, "What in the hell is your sorry ass doing in these hallowed halls of learning?"

Chief Petty Officer Angel Armero looked to his left and snapped a salute in the direction of Captain Rafael Caycedo, commandant of the Gran Colombian Naval Academy.  "I'm sorry to say, Sir, that this sorry ass has been assigned to your institution of learning."

"But I'd heard you'd filed your papers and were out", Caycedo replied, returning the salute. 

"My retirement plans fell through, Sir", Armero explained.  "The Bureau of Personnel hadn't processed my papers yet.  They were happy to return them."

"Sorry to hear that, Chief", Caycedo said.  "There was scuttlebutt about you having some sort of 'Get Rich Quick' scheme, but I never heard the same story from any two people."

Armero sighed.  After a moment's deliberation, he said, "Sufficed to say, Sir, that the Dutch Navy were aware of my retirement plan, and had shelled the shit out of her long before my cousin's salvage company filed the necessary permits."

Caycedo shook his head.  "Hawaii?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's too bad.  It would've been a hell of an exit for you", the commandant noted.  "So, what's your new posting here?"  The Chief handed over his papers, and Caycero scanned them.  "Excellent - it'll do wonders for the cadets to spend some time learning from a fellow like yourself."

"So long as I'm not teaching retirement planning, Sir", Armero observed.

[The Rock Doctor]

20 February 1909:  Cayenne

It wasn't the first time Donald Morrison had woken up mid-morning with a raging hang-over and another person in the dingy hotel room.  But it was the first time that other person had been a man. 

"Tell me I didn't...", Morrison began.

"Oh, please", the other man said dismissively.  "Don't flatter yourself."

"Good", Morrison grunted.  Sitting up, he yawned, and then it occurred to him to ask, "So...why the hell are you in my room?"

"Just wanted to have a word while you were not entirely drunk", the other fellow replied.  "This seemed like the best time."

"Well, you'd better have at it, because that's not going to be the case much longer", Morrison advised him. 

"I won't keep you long, Donny.  Just wanted to let you know that it's payback time."

"Hey?", Morrison asked, reaching for a bottle of gin on the end table.

"The word is out - somebody wants a piece of the Swiss, and they're paying handsomely for it."

"Didn't everybody just have a go at them?"

"Sure they did", the other man - Francois, was it? - agreed.  "But, obviously, not everybody was satisfied with that.  People in the know are telling me that a fellow who sinks a Swiss ship would be a made man."

"Don't care so much about money these days, Francois", Morrison replied, raising the bottle to his lips.

"It's Martin, Captain", the other man said caustically.  "And, no, you don't care about money so long as you have enough for a bed and some booze.  But you do care about revenge, don't you?"

Morrison glared at him, then set the bottle back down. "That I do", he said.  "That I do."



Edit:  Fixed the year.

[Desertfox]

*grumble* Always the punching bag...

Thought whoever it is picked a bad time, just when the entire fleet has dissapeared. Or wait...is this the Launceston job? Appears so due to the date.

[maddox]

Could also be a way to "promote" the NS merchants bugging out towards prospective buyers.

In any case, Launceton is another matter, and long gone.

Rocky, the date seems wrong? Shouldn't that be 1909?

[Walter]

In any case, Launceton is another matter, and long gone.

Gone... but not forgotten. Launceton will be back...

[The Rock Doctor]

That is supposed to be 1909. 

"We apologize for the inconvenience."

[The Rock Doctor]

Thought whoever it is picked a bad time, just when the entire fleet has dissapeared.

My reaction to that would be, "The NSN shouldn't abandon the Confederation in a time of need."

[The Rock Doctor]

2 March 1909:  Montego Bay

"Got a minute?", Donald Morrison asked the bricklayer.

The bricklayer smiled.  "Of course, Captain", he replied, setting down his trowel.  "How long you been in town?"

"Since yesterday", Morrison said.  "This a secure location?"

The bricklayer looked about.  "No, but I'm 'bout due for a break.  We can go chat in the alley.  Lemme just go and tell the foreman."

A minute later, the two were in the alley behind the half-erected townhouse, the bricklayer sipping lemonade from a bottle, Morrison keeping his hands in his pants pockets, away from his gin flask.  "So what brings you back?  Goin' to see the family?", the bricklayer asked in a low tone.

"Tomorrow.  I gotta deal with this first", Morrison replied quietly.  "I have a job in mind.  Payback.  I know how to do it, but I need some extra hands.  Was wondering if you might be interested."

"I dunno, Captain", the bricklayer sighed.  "I got a wife and a little one of my own to consider, and this ain't a bad job I got now."

Morrison replied with a number.  "That's what the job is worth for me and my crew."

The bricklayer stared at him.  "God a'mighty, Captain.  That's a fair heap a' cash.  Maybe I'd better have a listen after all."

Morrison rattled off the outlines of his plan.  It didn't take long.

"Simple enough", the bricklayer replied.  "Just need a few extra hands to round out your crew.  I think I know some people."

"I'd appreciate that, Chief", Morrison said quietly. 

[Ithekro]

"entire fleet has dissapeared"

Quite impossible.  A "fleet" cannot dissapear for very long.  It needs fuel, food, and water for a prolonged voyage.  There shouldn't be anyplace that is secure enough to hide the entire Swiss Navy from civilian eyes, nor foreigners.  Also a lot of the Swiss Fleet was damaged in the war.  Several of the more important ships should still be in drydock.

I'd figure the longer ranged destroyers could be out for three weeks, the larger ships maybe a few months on their own supplies.  The raider style cruisers maybe able to go for six months without food or  water resupply, but their coal supplies would run low faster.

(Someone is the Navy might be able to tell us how long a ship can go before it needs to be resupplied as standard practise, and in emergencies...not counting any of the nuclear ships.)

[The Rock Doctor]

I imagine at some point, the mods will inform one or more players that their ships, airships, spies, or other folks have found out where the NSN is hanging out.

[Walter]

I think at sea, the most likely source would be ships and airships... unless the whole NSN fleet now belongs to Davy Jones. :)

[Ithekro]

That would be some protest...along the lines of the High Seas Fleet at Scapa Flow in 1919 rather than the mutiny.  That doesn't make sense logically either.


So how long before the rest of the world start to notice the expanding Gran Columbia?  I'd figure 1909 with the opening of the two other canals, we might start to notice more things.

[The Rock Doctor]

I've little doubt that GC's more immediate neighbours have already noticed that.