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I have a nice little ditty that I think some of you would like. It's called "A Sailor Ain't A Sailor Anymore" The words are clean apart from one little swear word. If any of you would like it please e-mail and I will send it to you. ..Bingalau..
Have emailed you Bingalau.
Jak_1 Hope it got there?
This site will be of interest, it does come with a warning though!!!It gets somewhat bawdy :)))
Bingalau, can you please email it to me. I tried to click on the little yellow envelope thingy but nothing happened. To be very honest I've never used it before and so am probably doing something wrong. Regards, Zorgalite (Ex Bod)
Thought you may like this!
WHAT IS A SAILOR?
By Leading Seaman Charteris.
Of all the world's dwellers, a sailor is perhaps the most widely discussed and least understood character of them all. He is one of uniform classification and appearance, yet posses a unique individual opinion of his own. He is ruled by a regular edition of Q R's and A I's and the state of the "barons" on board.
A sailor can be of any colour or any creed, yet he observes the same attitude of being in turn, a staunch comrade in arms, a profound lawyer, a cynical pessimist, a buzz-spreading optimist, or a victim of countless "green rubs."
He can be found in, out of, around, beneath, on top and swarming upon ships of every shape and size, above or below the sea; yet his appearance never changes nor his face portrays any appreciation of his worthy tasks.
He has money invested in shares with handles on, has amazing capacity for consuming liquid and a cast iron digestion which consumes some strange "oggies" and "pusser's bangers."
A sailor will drip every minute of every day and twice as much at "tot time." A sailor will relish the call of "Up Spirits" and drop every task for "Splice the Mainbrace." A sailor will talk of some strange "dozen" that is the bane of his life, meanwhile venting his wrath upon the "Buffer," "Mess-deck P O" or "Killick," depending upon who happens to be furthest away
at the time.
Ashore, a sailor is a paragon of virtue and good manners. He is sociable and genial. He will sing dubious ditties at the top of his voice, reeling like a storm tossed tug; yet the appearance of a white belted patrol seems to have the magical effect of subduing his voice and steadying his step. He makes mental notes of pints consumed, old ladies who drank "scrumpy" and his best darts score to relate during breakfast next day, much to the awe of his listeners. He will risk life and limb for a share of his oppo's "tot," yet return it virtually untouched, after winning at "Uckers."
A sailor dislikes "pusser's boots," hats, lanyards, dhobying overalls and blankets, efficiency tests, pay books, station cards, inspections, "PULHEEMS," mess bills, wakey-wakey, kit musters, crushers and returning from leave.
He likes very much the "rum call," uckers, quarterly settlement, lurid books, reserve fleet drafts, long leave, mail, hammock, "make and mend," tickler and the girl he dreams of up the line.
G I's find him maddening. His interpretation of "rig of the day" can resemble a collection of rags from the paint locker, whilst his apparent accidental footprints across the whiteness of a newly scrubbed quarterdeck, can bring grey hairs to a raving "buffer."
A sailor is civility with a shabby cap tally, industry in the bilges, studiousness with a deck cloth, truth with fourteen days stoppage of leave, initiative with a chipping hammer and humour with a NAAFI pie.
There is none so true and loyal to his wife or girl, for whom he will save and behave, but should his better influence desert him, he becomes a man of little faith in human nature, a hard hearted being whose activities are confined to catching the first boat ashore, to meet another of those unfaithful females.
He is an accomplished dishwasher, mechanic, card and darts player, sewer mender, cook and server and babyminder. He will hold up the heaviest of traffic, oblivious to the questioning of his parentage, just to help an old lady across the road. He is a connoisseur of all beers, wines and spirits from Scapa Flow to Capetown and New York to Hong Kong. He knows the name of every barmaid at every pub in every port that he has been to, while his recollection of the exact location of these houses, is truly bewildering.
His locker consists of beer labels, pusser's yarn, marlinspikes, photographs, (some even properly attired) bars of soap, tickler tins and old letters. He relies on his oppo's sense of comradeship in borrowing silks, white fronts, collars and shoes to get ashore, but never seems to remember from whom they were borrowed. He is a subtle combination of applied indifference and patriotic concern.
Yet who can deny, that it was a fitting gesture that men of his own service transported our late King, on his last journey. There were many proud hearts and willing hands that day. You see, a sailor despite his faults would lay down his life for both those who love him and they who dislike him.
Next time that you see a sailor ashore, think of him as a human being, buy him a pint, tell him a joke and remember, mine's a bitter.
All RN and RM peeps will understand the terminology, for those that don't a book called 'Jackspeak' will explain but please don't expect me to extol its author, nor do I have any financial interest in the book.
jak_1 Yes I understand it, but wonder if some of the modern sailors would. For instance the reference to "dozen" (or my dozen) may not exist today. Do they still sign up for that length of time? I doubt it. Tickler tins are probably another item that the modern sailor has no knowledge of. As to "Up Spirits"? I believe "The Holy Ghost is stood fast on a semi-permanent basis nowadays. Although I think they do splice the mainbrace on special occasions. We as Marines used to have our own version of your article and I must say I have seen several versions of it in the past. Thanks for the memory though.
Any body else to take up the offer before I close it? Come along now Jack, get your ditty here!
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