Once Upon A Run Ashore..................

Just got back from a few pints after a game of squash - pulled a muscle in my ass getting changed BEFORE the game .....say no more!

Once upon a time in '95 a sleek grey messenger of death (Type 23 Skoda Class Frigate - more breakdowns than a psychiatric ward) HMS Monmouth was in the Dutch Antilles (Curacao). We were in there to change out some of the crew and re-supply of the usual goods except beer, ended up with the worst hangover gear going - AMSTEL, could the can man get rid of it, nope still had some left when we got back to Guz quite a few months later. We were then continuing on a good old jolly through the Panama Canal (rained all the way) and then into the South Pacific - but they are other tales..............

Well a few days on the ale and it was my turn to be duty killick stoker (always need to let the liver and kidneys recover) it had been an eventful few days already what with a US Coast Guard ship in and a magical water fountain with palm trees around and then we found the control box for it.........other stories.

Back to the dit

Up at four to do my rounds, 3 Kilo mess just stank of beer, bad food and bad air - you know what it's like if your sober and everyone else has been on the p**s. So I opened the door into the main mess and should have been greeted by a bit of debris and wooden panelling in front of me - nope, I looked and then shut the door, rubbed my eyes and thought "naaahhh, need a coffee first, eyes are playing me up" Opened the door again and the back wall was green, should have been wooden in colour!
Lo and behold, there was a f*****g palm tree there, not the trunk, just the top half with all the foliage obliterating the scene from deckhead to the deck! "F**k" thought me "We're in the s**t now!"
A lot had gone on before this with things being "liberated" as ships companies do - the Mayor of Curacao had already been to see the Old Man asking for a few things back and the USCG skipper had been round asking if the Old Man could stop us lot from taking the p**s out of his ship.......

Back to the rain forest. Killick of the Mess time (RHIP) pulled back the curtains and was engulfed by stale beer and other noxious smells wafting out from his pit, gently woke him (really).
" Charlie, we've got a problem"
"Eh wassat?"
"We've got a palm tree in the mess"
"P**s off!"
Dragged the bugger out of bed to the door, Charlie ain't happy at all and still half p****d, he opened the door, looked, shut the door, looked at me and said -
"There's a f*****g palm tree in there!"
"No s**t Sherlock" thought I, that's what I've been telling you.......
As you may or may not no, 3 Kilo on a 23 has 39 people so on that reckoning 30 people were still drunk or seriously hungover.......25% compus mentus as we'd been duty. All lights on! Beauty sleep is over!
Not a pretty sight was 3 Kilo at silly o'clock in the morning getting rousted from their pits, I enjoyed it! served them right for being on the p**s while I was stuck aboard, satisfying in a perverse sort of way.
The usual was - "There's a palm tree in the mess and we need to get rid of it PDQ" the usual answer was "F**k off!" until the door was opened and then it was "S**t, there's a palm tree in there" "No s**t Sherlock" say I.
Well, what happened next I hear you say............the DC lockers were raided for every type of saw, forward and aft, any type of knife came out and it was a case of "All hands on ......... shredding duties" The evidence was cut to pieces and black bagged just in time for rounds - the comments from the other messes as a procession of full bin bags came out was "S**t guys, good party last night" (we didn't disillusion as we were known as a bunch of animals anyway).

Well, the evidence was gone and the majority of the guys were feeling pretty good as we looked around and missed the additions - there was a table and chairs with an umbrella and a pot plant, but it was too late to do anything about that - bite the bullet and look natural.

Rounds:
Big Bad Ben Nevers enters the mess with the OOD and looks with a keen eye, he knows something has gone off, but can't quite see what............tender hooks now. Four of us are stood around a wooden table with chairs and umbrella with coffee mugs and ash tray, everyone else is stood up.......... he looks ............ and spots a pot plant on top of the beer fridge!
"Who stole this!"
Silence
"One more chance, who is responsible for this?"
Cooky boy admits to the "theft" of this innocent item, "Okay, we've got four months to go, if this plant isn't alive when we get back to Guz, you're on a charge - water it and speak to it - understood?"
"Yes Joss" says cooky boy.

Rounds finish and the four of us around the table look at each other and think -
"How the hell did he miss the table, chairs and umbrella?" Not that we were complaining!

That was the gist of the story and may or may not be 100% but it's the best I remember and I still have a chuckle when I remember opening that door!

Cheers all, more to follow,

Alhucoll
"Never let the truth stand in the way of a good story"
 
Well, to continue the story - whether it be in order or not.

The Magical Water Fountain

And we are not talking about Golden Showers here (that's another one).

Near where the USCG "ship" was moored there was this fountain come waterfall, looked as dull as anything at night and especially after a few sherbets we thought -
" This has to do more than nothing" it's silly o'clock in the morning again ladies and gents!
So a recce happens - and we didn't find any beer!
WE did find a control panel that was locked, and if I remember right our good old Chief Stoker "Yanto" ON YOUR KNEES NON STOKERS!! pray to the God of wheel spanners and Sambuca - that's another dit at some point..............................................................
A control panel that was locked....mmmmmmmm....... always seemed to be the stokers and cooky boys who led the carnage! Doesn't say a lot for the other "branches". (Ed. Expect some verbal abuse for that comment).

The control panel was "opened" F**k more buttons than a 23's SCC - we were screwed!

"Press that!"
LIGHTS
"Try that one"
DIFFERENT COLOURED LIGHTS
"Touch that one!"
WATER!
"Where's the beer?"
"Do that one"
MOVING LIGHTS
"Try that"
DANCING WATER!
"Need a p**s, back in one"
AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
"Bored now"
FRIDGE!!

So it was fun and as there was no beer to be had so we got bored and buggered off to collapse in our pits. The USCG complained as we'd woken them up and yes you've guessed it, the "Magical Water Fountain" was one (in a number) of the Mayor's complaints!
 

imom1406

War Hero
Water Fountain 2 (The Sequel)

Scene: Bermuda
Ship: HMS Brilliant

Brilliant had just had a gruelling......actually no it didn't, we arrived in Bermuda on a 2 month deployment to carry out torpedo trials in the Autec Ranges.

Tied up alongside and the ship and it's company entered the usual routine in Bermuda of working 'til midday...hiring a moped....getting very drunk on Rum...and driving the mopeds off the end of the jetty late at night...

The Wardroom decided they would have a cocktail party on the flight deck. All fine and dandy you might think! but no, some Middy decided they should have a water feature in the middle of the flight deck on the helicopter landing grating (Waffooos may know the true term!). And who better to to this than the duty watch!!

Alan Titchmarsh and Tommy Walsh would have been proud, we didn't complain at all!!...(that is sarcasm)...They wanted running water, underwater lights...all the better for our young Hornblowers to pull their pieces that night....After much shifting of rocks, running of hose from the Aft JR Showers and electrical extensions, the Brilliants Hanging Gardens of Babylon was complete. Subdued lighting, and splashing , tumbling water cascading over sandstone rocks...."come on fellas...cut along the party starts in 45 minutes" came a snotty's voice , ordering sweaty overalled junior rates away from the party.

We were'nt happy....thanks for the appreciation !

Does anyone remember Blue NAAFI Shampoo...! Strong stuff!

15 minutes later i was having a shower as were several of the Ground Force Team, when i noticed a hose connected to a cold water tap in the Aft JR Showers.

I looked at the full NAAFI shampoo bottle...as did several others..."no guts" said the duty greenie.......3/4 of a bottle of shampoo later and cries could be heard from the Snotty on the flight deck....The flight deck looked like an airstrip waiting for an airliner crash landing....Ankle deep in foam.....

All the snotties turned to with brooms with very damp and slightly blue tropical trouser bottoms!
 
As with IMON a cock and arse party in Singapore Dockyard on Lock Killisport. The front plastic dome from a gun director as found on Type 12's in the 60's had been liberated from somewhere in the Dockyard and transformed into a small pond and fountain by the tiffies. Surrounded by plants colored lights and a sea water supply with small pump so the fish caught by the Chinese laundry men for cash of course would not die but swim around looking pretty.

OK J/S Nutty put the fish into a bucket until tonight cos it will get hot in that shallow pond. I start to catch and lift fish out of pond into bucket when one stings me on top of 2nd finger of left hand. Two minutes later hand is like a balloon and it F**king hurts. Ambulance called, fish placed in bag for Scab Lifters to identify. Reach sick bay in Terror Barracks and my oppo hands over fish. "STUPID BOY" says the Quack that's for snake bites now go away and let us play with this young man. "Does it hurt son" "Of course if F**king hurts sir or I would not be here". "OK sister give him a dose of all we have got and a sedative and we will see what happens" Five injections later I am asleep.

Mean while the wheels of Pusser creak into action, Mum of Nutty in South London receives telegram "Your son is very ill in Singapore hospital" she starts to pack her bag for the long flight to Singa's, it was 1963.

Overnight her beloved son makes a recovery so she never got her trip. I was forced, against my will as I wanted to get back to chipping rust and keeping watches. to remain in Sick Quarters for 7 days under observation. The only guy who had it better than me was a Tiffy in the next bed
who was RA and on attachment to the Malaysian Navy. He came in at 8 am got undressed and climbed into bed. At 3.30 pm he got dressed pick up his little bag and went home.

Happy days

Nutty
 
Imom... great. Bet they didn't do that again in a hurry! :lol:

Nutty said:
...Ambulance called, fish placed in bag for Scab Lifters to identify. Reach sick bay in Terror Barracks and my oppo hands over fish. "STUPID BOY" says the Quack that's for snake bites now go away and let us play with this young man.

:lol: :lol: :lol:

I should have though your oppo should have got a medal for handling the fish and for initiative!

And the poor fish? 8O
 
Sorry for the delay, but I'm back in the North Sea at "work". It's painted grey................the pay is better and the time off is, shall we say "acceptable" three week deployment at most.
Just got to do a check on a couple of facts on Curacao and then hopefully over the next couple of days or even tonight the next installment will continue........................
 
Well work was busy, we drilled a hole and got lots of gas. Should have been home on Friday but the FOG rolled in and that was it, sit around and twiddle thumbs! I did my impression of a killick WEM and went to bed, I'm sure killick WEM's and cementers are related - if there are any ex Killick WEM's out there, a career change to being a cementer would be perfect - the only change would be the mattress!!!!!

Back to Curacao in '95:

We were moored opposite Willhamsted upstream from the fountain and the US Coastguard and downstream from the oil refinery. For some strange reason we had to rig up the "grey water fit" seemed a bit OTT as the oil coming down the river from the refinery was just like a slick, but hey you've got to be ripped off by local contractors. The best bit was watching our divers getting lubricated and dripping about having to swim in "this stih" - ha earned your extras now!!

Jack being Jack soon discovered a good run ashore at "Camp Legover" a very friendly, morale boosting establishment where one could.....................lets leave it at that and you can use your deprived imagination.
In time tried tradition, Jack likes his souveneirs and as any of you old salts knows this means the "Liberation" of bits and pieces of the locality ranging form an ashtray to literally just about anything half a dozen drunken matelots can lift and carry. Now Willhamsted didn't really have a lot going for it as it was shut for and election, but pride of place in their tourism was shop sign made of wood and very old - a tourist attraction none the less. The locals awoke one morning to find that the sign had been stolen by visiting aliens from "Planet Red Death", a visit to the old man by said local Mayor "Can we have our sign back please, it's very important to us"
An amnesty was declared by Ben Nevis for the return of the sign IF it was on board and returned to his office, no further action would be taken...........mmmmmmm got to be a catch here somewhere.

Said sign was returned and no action was taken - Ben being benevelont, maybe he's not so bad after all we thought.

The only catch was that a few other signs were returned in the "amnesty" but these were not covered by the "no further action" - hey presto!! Ben got to charge a couple of "honest" sailors who repented their sins!!

Moral of the dit:

Get so drunk that you cannot remember the nights escapades - that way you cannot drop yourself in it!
:twisted:
 
Vague memories......................................

Once upon a time there was a black PTI on the ship.
Couldn't drink to save his life - three tins and goosed.
Looked like a model and always pulled.................

He got an invite down 3 Kilo mess - say no more, carnage.

He was unconcious, but no camera..ahhh.......

So the story goes, mmmmmmmmmmm

Well we dropped his trousers, dropped his shreddies, and laid bare his tackle. A stoker got hold of his "member" and another peeled back his foreskin.
A bottle of Tippex appeared, and the brush was applied to his well used piece of flesh! We had to check the paint job had dried, a few flicks and a blow.
Yep! it was dry. Got the bugger up to his own mess deck and left him in his scratcher.

SCREAMS FROM THE SHOWER IN THE MORNING

(he didn't get laid for quite a while)
 

imom1406

War Hero
alhucoll said:
Well work was busy, we drilled a hole and got lots of gas. Should have been home on Friday but the FOG rolled in and that was it, sit around and twiddle thumbs! I did my impression of a killick WEM and went to bed, I'm sure killick WEM's and cementers are related - if there are any ex Killick WEM's out there, a career change to being a cementer would be perfect - the only change would be the mattress!!!!!

Back to Curacao in '95:

We were moored opposite Willhamsted upstream from the fountain and the US Coastguard and downstream from the oil refinery. For some strange reason we had to rig up the "grey water fit" seemed a bit OTT as the oil coming down the river from the refinery was just like a slick, but hey you've got to be ripped off by local contractors. The best bit was watching our divers getting lubricated and dripping about having to swim in "this stih" - ha earned your extras now!!

Jack being Jack soon discovered a good run ashore at "Camp Legover" a very friendly, morale boosting establishment where one could.....................lets leave it at that and you can use your deprived imagination.
In time tried tradition, Jack likes his souveneirs and as any of you old salts knows this means the "Liberation" of bits and pieces of the locality ranging form an ashtray to literally just about anything half a dozen drunken matelots can lift and carry. Now Willhamsted didn't really have a lot going for it as it was shut for and election, but pride of place in their tourism was shop sign made of wood and very old - a tourist attraction none the less. The locals awoke one morning to find that the sign had been stolen by visiting aliens from "Planet Red Death", a visit to the old man by said local Mayor "Can we have our sign back please, it's very important to us"
An amnesty was declared by Ben Nevis for the return of the sign IF it was on board and returned to his office, no further action would be taken...........mmmmmmm got to be a catch here somewhere.

Said sign was returned and no action was taken - Ben being benevelont, maybe he's not so bad after all we thought.

The only catch was that a few other signs were returned in the "amnesty" but these were not covered by the "no further action" - hey presto!! Ben got to charge a couple of "honest" sailors who repented their sins!!

Moral of the dit:

Get so drunk that you cannot remember the nights escapades - that way you cannot drop yourself in it!
:twisted:

As an ex Killick WEM, i resemble that remark!
 
Top