Bureaucracy and the Pursuit of Justice

You'd think it would be an easy thing to flog somebody. This is what's wrong with pirate society today. You take out the cat-o'nine-tails, tie the offending crewman to the mast, or whatever whipping post have ye, and you smack 'em with the cat a few times.

The problem is, nobody likes a whipping. If you resort to one, crewmen get nervous that it's going to become a regular thing. This is what separates us from, say, the Royal Navy. In the Royal Navy, they whip ye for slurping your soup or calling the Commandant names. Aboard a privateer's ship, you can call the Captain whatever you want (just don't mention his mother). But you get out the tails, and everybody starts thinking oh, it's THAT kind of ship now. Hence, there are procedures to follow.

So a flogging is not an easy solution, but it is an effective one. Crewmen become very compliant with a healthy and--this is important--warranted application of lashings.

As you may have guessed, we received approval from the barrister. So now the Carpenter's Mate in charge of cabin safety is scrutinizing the articles, to solidify our case against the Plank Owner described in previous entries. Hopefully, sometime this week, the cat will come out of the bag. I'll keep you posted.

Adrift on a Makeshift Friday

It is my last day at sea this week, and I am waiting. I await word from the barrister as to whether or not there shall be a flogging today. I await the Bilge Master so that we may tour the ship on our various rounds. I await word from the captain on our proceedings to increase the number of bunks in a particular cabin. I sip my coffee and pour over my articles, my logs and charts, and wait.

Just bring the damn ship to port already. I have leeches waiting for me.

...Besides, I Like My Left Hand

I don't do crocodiles. Crocodiles are considered weaponry. Go talk to the Gunner's Mates.

Dead Lines

Actually, there is one interesting situation a-brewin' this week. To give ye a little background:


I alerted our Carpenter Master to the fact that one of our plank owners had converted part of the hold into a cabin with no one's notice, and had a group of the pressed crew living there. So the Master gave the plank'er until today to seek the proper permissions or dismantle his makeshift quarters.


I thus find myself hovering like a carrion bird, waiting for my turn at the carcass (nice pirate-y metaphor, that). It appeared as though there were too many of said pressed crew stuffed into one tiny little cargo bay. At this point it becomes an issue for the quartermaster, but the plank'er wouldn't allow us access, and the blaggards all pretended to speak Portuguese, so I had no idea how many needed reassignment to regular quarters. The barrister representing our Marque-Holders said threatening a flogging at this point might give the plank'er cause to spread rumors of mutiny and dissent through the rest of the crew, so I wait for the Carpenter Master to resolve his issues and in the course of his actions suss out how many are quartered illegally.

We shall see what tomorrow brings. My lash hand is twitchy.

Slow & Short

It figures. I decide to start logging my adventures, and I hit a slow week. No just a slow week, but a short one. I'm only aboard ship three days this week, as on Friday I have to go in for my monthly leeching. Because of this, I am hard-pressed to complete my duties before I take my leave. I have to prepare the ship for expansion. We need to make room for more water stores. I also have to oversee the remodelling of quarters to make room for more crew. There is much dissent amongst my shipmates over this particular project, and some question over whether it will be allowed under our current Letter.

I also have the dubious chore of informing one of the crew that he's keeping too many pet rats in his bunk and must get rid of half of them, as it's disturbing his cabinmates. These are never enjoyable orders to give, but hey, even on a privateer's rig, we have Articles of Conduct to uphold.

Proof of Concept

I just returned from a discussion with our stormwater guy, in which he stated that the head of the wastewater treatment plant should be the Bilgemaster and he more of a 1st Bilgemate; however, I would see the WWTP supervisor as being in charge of making sure the heads were cleared. So, stormwater guy shall remain at this time the Bilgemaster. But I'll let him have a pet rat.

Bartholomew's Articles of Municipal Planning

Before I put the model through its paces, I believe it's important to set a few guidelines for the practical application of the model:

• Though I plan on trying to use proper nautical terminology, for now I'm steering clear of using actual pirate vernacular, since I think it would detract from the message itself.
• I am assuming the title of "quartermaster" for myself. There is some debate as to the role of the quartermaster on a privateering vessel. I will be using the commonly accepted definition, which is that the quartermaster oversaw the day-to-day operation of the vessel, which corresponds nicely with the role of a current planner. The captain handled the plotting of their exploits, and was in full control of the vessel during battle, but left the carrying out of non-combat operations to the quartermaster so that he could resume plotting. The quartermaster also meted out discipline and officiated during duels, which I think is an effective simile for my code enforcement duties.
• The term Marque-holder will refer to the city council and/or the mayor. The part of governor will be played by the city supervisor. My captain will obviously be my planning director. The Masters and Mates are the others employed in city administration. Plank-owners will be the representative stakeholders: developers, property mangers, etc. Everyone else is crew.
• As on a real pirate ship, no crew member is anymore important than another, and has no less voice than any other; some just have specialized skills or rights of ownership that allow them more control over certain aspects of the running of the ship.

So now our example:

This morning, I met with a plank owner. He had converted a portion of his holdings in the ship to extended crew quarters, but had failed to paint a picture of a topless mermaid on the wall to help soothe those bunking there, thus doing his part to alleviate thoughts of mutiny in the general crew. Until he paints this mural, the Carpenter Master is keeping a portion of his shares of swag. We discussed the particulars: how big the mural had to be, what colors he should use, how heavily endowed to make the mermaid, etc. The compromise we reached was that I would tell the Carpenter Master to hold a portion of his shares until we could reach port and our errant plank holder could purchase the necessary paint.

You see how the analogy works? If not, email me and I'll explain the metaphor. Or you could just use your imagination and enjoy the story.

It's an Analogy, Obviously.

When is a community like a pirate ship? When you are in need of an analogy to protect the sensitive and occasionally confidential nature of your work, and your knowledge of the United Federation of Planets is rather weak.

Not that I'm really expecting anyone other than my immediate family to be interested in a blog describing the goings-on in a municipal planning office. Most people would consider it only slightly more interesting than, say, Adventures in Accounting. But honestly, I often find myself boggled by the happenings I end up involved in as my city's current-planning official. Thus, I felt the need to share, to provide perspective, to deflect blame. However, as I have previously stated, I deemed it necessary to change the names to protect the innocent (and occasionally the guilty.)

So I started casting around for a suitable analogy. Given my dilletante's knowledge of piratical lore, this was one of the first models I attempted, and I believe I can make it fit. First, though, I should explain the basic mechanics of the analogy.

1. Technically, the particulars of my employment are not analogous to a pirate ship per se. They are metaphorically closer to a privateering enterprise, as one could look upon the City Council as the holder of our Letter of Marque, giving us our mandate and providing us legal protections when our actions drift into the murky territory of protecting the health, safety and welfare of the general community at the potential infringement of someone's personal benefit.
2. The city administraion, our department's chain of command, and the community as a whole can be compared to the commaders and crew of a ship. We have carpenters, gunners, navigators, various masters and mates, plank owners, and nameless masses pressed into service. For instance, our storm water guy would be akin to the crew member in charge of making sure nobody dumps blige into our water stores. And a notice of violation is simply another form of flogging.
3. I have a pronounced limp, and my planning director, recovering from laser eye surgery, has an eyepatch.

Tomorrow we shall see how well this analogy works when applied to a real-life planning scenario.