This weekend, my friend Severin and I took a trip to St. Augustine. We belong to a group of guys who volunteer for the National Park Service's interpretive history program; several times a year, we put on the clothing of 18th-century British sailors, and shoot cannons at the Castillo de San Marcos and Fort Matanzas.

We left Friday after work, and crashed at the house of one of our fellow crew members. Got up way too early the next morning and drove into St. Augustine. It was a bright day, very warm in the morning, though not too warm to make my wool and linen clothing unbearable.

The gun deck of the Castillo still being under repair, we brought a Minnion (a small cannon which fires a three-pound iron shot) outside to the banks of the river, whereupon we fired three shots for the entertainment of the visitors to the Castillo. For the first shot, I handled searching and loading the cannon; for the second, I fired it off; and for the third, I primed the charge. (Side note: pelicans are ungainly creatures, but they can take off in a hurry when startled.)

We then went to lunch at the Spanish bakery, where I bought two sausage rolls and some water. Someone Severin knew from the SCA decided to invite himself to our table, and insisted on talking loudly about 21st-century topics, rather than permitting us to re-enact a group of sailors eating (for the entertainment of the bakery's other patrons).

After lunch, we went out to fire the cannon again; as only a couple of men stepped up to join the gun crew, another man and I from the first crew went to fill the positions, whereupon I handled the sponge and rammer for the first shot; thereafter I helped keep the spectators out of the danger zone as others manned the ordnance for two more shots.

After that, we retired to the guardroom within the Castillo and sang shanties for an hour, then back outside to fire four more shots before putting the cannon back inside; then off to dinner.

After dinner, we prepared for the British Illumination Torchlight Parade, an annual event that kicks off the Christmas season in St. Augustine. As I was the newest member of the HMS Falcon, it fell to me to carry one of the two torches which lead the parade (the other was carried by my friend John, who is always willing to participate in anything involving fire).

It was the stupidest parade route in history. But first, some background:

In St. Augustine, there are a number of street performers who inhabited the main pedestrian thoroughfare, St. George Street. Jugglers, a "one-man band", a guy who paints himself silver and pretends to be an android, a guy who paints himself like a wooden dime-store Indian, and so forth. Shopkeepers detested these performers, because they gathered crowds which blocked access to the stores. At their urging, the St. Augustine city council passed a law prohibiting performances on St. George St.

However, when interpretive history volunteers would march down the street playing fife and drums, or singing shanties, the outlawed performers sued the city, so now no performances, even ones for which no money is charged, are forbidden. And for some reason, even though the Torchlight Parade is put on by St. Augustine, they decided to change the route to avoid a "performance" on St. George St. (rather than, say, issuing a permit for the parade).

So where did we go? At least 90% of the parade was through narrow side streets which were completely deserted, because nobody told the spectators that the route had been changed. After everything was over, we encountered many people sitting on St. George waiting for the parade to start. Their reactions (upon learning that it had already occurred) ranged from anger to misery; some people had driven from as far as Ft. Lauderdale to see the parade.

So now I will be writing to the St. Augustine city council, expressing my displeasure with the new parade route (and the fact that the anti-performance law makes no distinction between performances for money and interpretive history demonstrations).

But despite the stupid route, the weekend was a lot of fun.