Spin me your dits.....

Allegedly, the Four Floors now has a shed-load more Vietnamese entertainment. A 'friend' of mine was there last Thursday and I'm glad to report the clunge standard has risen several points. He'll let you know how these recent changes compare with Soi Cowboy in a couple of days time :pirat:
Not being particularly interested in Geography, once I mastered it at school and lived tons of the places with pusser I kind of well "let go".
When I read posts by the newish generation of pussers travellers like 2DD I have to run for the map. I was thinking Pusser had discovered a whole new bunch of divs runs ashore only to be disappointed to see they are old dumps recycled.
I thought "where the fucks Chennai, that sounds different". Fuckin Madras, what a fuckin dump.
Still brings back tons of thoughts and memories so well done 2Deck.
So to Singers.

As we sailed in past a never ending stream of huge container ships, everyone was excited to fuck. Singers was to be our home from home over the next few months. We were to spend 4 or 5 days in Sembawang this time before heading further East to Japan, we'd return in August for a 4 week extended maintenance period, before hitting Changi in September for a big International exercise.

Since we'd been at sea for a few weeks everyone was desperate to get ashore, the Jimmy gave everyone 3 days leave stand fast the duty watch.


The next 3 days are a complete blur, the first day we hit a few bars, got minging, got in a fight with some Aussie matelots off HMAS Anzac over one of their wrens and proceeded to the four floors in a convoy of rickshaws. Once inside everyone headed straight to the top floor, the Crazy Horse seemed to be the bar with the highest quality merchandise on offer. ;)

For some reason, I decided it would be a top idea to get a tat. Next to the Crazy Horse was a tat parlour so I cracked on. Without a clue what to get and being hammered, I decided that flames coming out of my arse would be as good an art concept as any to get permanently inked onto my buttocks.

So I did.

I now proudly sport a tat of 10 inch flames coming out of my mud socket. The missus loves it.

The next day I awoke, in the mess, feeling like shit, my status as a fucking legend was thoroughly confirmed though. Bets were placed as to who would be next to get a gasher tat and an inter mess contest was declared. The next two days were spent at the Terror Club in Sembawang sitting by the pool, drinking jugs of Tiger beer for $3 US dollars a pop and eating massive burgers. In the evenings we inevitably returned to the four floors. I bagged off with an absolute stunner from Laos, I was pretty chuffed, she was by far the divsest whore in the place. I even had a fat Aussie businessman trying to 'buy' her off me. We went to some shitty motel where I introduced my champ to her hoop.

She cried afterwards.

Felt good.
The next morning we began the 'goodwill' phase of the deployment, touring Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam, Brunei, Korea, China, Hong Kong and Japan - I forget the exact order so I'll reel off the runs ashore however comes to my mind.

Our task was to spread goodwill and fly the flag for the UK and the RN. This was good, it meant maximum time alongside in cool foreign ports with minimal time at sea. I think the most we did in a oner was about 4 days before we'd hit another port for a week. There was the odd bit of ball ache and occasionally we'd have to bang in a one day ex with a foreign tin pot navy or conduct loads of ships tours, but on the whole the routine would be; rock up, get alongside, put up the marquee on the focsle so the officers could have their cocktail party with the local dignitaries and then we'd fuck off ashore getting at least a whole day or two to explore.

First stop was probably Penang in Malaysia so here goes.

The first thing I noticed were the motorbikes, they were fucking everywhere. As soon as you stepped outside the dockyard you'd find entire streets just full up with motorbike rental shops. Obviously the first thing we did was get transport. It was complete luck of the draw what you got, anything from the latest rev and go mopeds to Chinese copies of Harleys.

I ended up with a Honda C90 that cost $30 US dollars including deposit for 2 days rental. I had every intention of being a good lad and returning it intact. As the bloke was writing out my form, he said "name?' I replied "Chris..." before I could give my surname, he cut me off and said "OK Mr Chris, what hotel you stay?" I gave him the name of the first place I'd seen outside the dockyard and he handed me the keys. That was it, no ID exchanged nothing.


We raced each other in a massive convoy to the nearest beach, (the one that was subsequently destroyed in the Tsunami a few months later.)

Oooop gotta dash TBC.
The beach was mega, about 2 miles long, filled with 5* hotels, bars and blokes renting jet skis. We found a spot with an extensive cocktail menu and a 2 for 1 happy hour deal that appeared to last all day. We feasted on lobster and other seafood and got smashed on daiquiris.

Then me and my oppo Smokey rented a jet ski. The bloke said "half an hour, stay within view of the beach."

We took the fucker literally as far out to sea as you could go until the beach was indistinguishable from the rest of the land mass. The only way we found our way back was because we could see people on parachutes attached to speed boats, otherwise we'd be fucked. We followed a gucci as fuck looking super yacht and did some jumps in it's wake. I fell off and vommed everywhere in the sea - too many daiquiris. When we eventually returned to the beach some hours later, the jet ski man was threaders, we'd truly taken the piss. ;)

We then continued working our way through the cocktail menu before heading back onboard in another massive drunken motorbike convoy. Amazingly no one crashed but I managed to break off one of the foot pegs trying to do a jump over a speed hump.

The following morning, after a few hours of cleaning onboard, we went straight back to the beach for round two. A few of the lads came a cropper on jet skis, including a baby stoker writing off a Sea Doo and a local fisherman's boat in one spectacular manoeuvre. A baying crowd of locals headed up by the fisherman and the jet ski owner, demanded blood and we had to bundle the lad into a taxi to go back onboard for his own safety. Another lad managed to smash his teeth up and bite through his bottom lip while fucking around on some waves and had to be casevacced to a hospital in Singers for some serious dental reconstruction.

Jet skis for the win.

That afternoon we met some reasonably good looking English birds who were staying at one of the hotels. I took the fitter of the two out on the back of my moped and I was definitely onto a promise that night. She went off for a Dhobi and we arranged to meet later that evening for a nice meal. While she was gone me and the lads proceeded to work our way through the cocktail menu again - Twice.

By the time her and her mate came back all dolled up, I was so trolleyed I could barely speak and she fucked off in a strop.


Being too minging to ride the bike, I abandoned it on the beach, my mate decided he would give his a more spectacular end and ghostied it off the end of a pier straight into the sea.

We jumped in a cab and went back to the ship. As we sailed away the next day you could see about 40 abandoned motorbikes lying on their sides outside the dockyard gates.

Next stop Nam.
Nam was a bit of a weird one, it had all the potential for an epic run ashore, but it was stifled by the fact that we had to go everywhere in rig and only had Cinderella leave.

Apart from a day out to the Cu Chi tunnels and pissing up in hotel bars, it didn't really live up to the hype. At the tunnels we certainly had some fun, banging in a few hours at the range firing AKs at oil drums while wearing Sony headphones with the cords cut off as ear defence. Someone bought a bottle of whiskey with a dead cobra in it.

Wasn't actually that bad to be honest.

Other than that the place doesn't really stand out. We got dicked around a fair bit by the locals and a few lads got robbed, we also had a pretty hectic routine of ships tours so didn't get out much. The best bit was manning a GPMG sailing out through the Me Kong Delta, pretending to be Martin Sheen in Apocalypse Now. I do have memories of stealing some massive plant pots with 6 foot palm trees in and manhandling them down the mess one night. How I got them in I have no fucking idea, we had to smash them up to get them out the hatch the next day because they wouldn't fit.

I did meet a very pretty Irish backpacker called Celine in one bar and we exchanged email addresses.

More about Celine later.
I genuinely haven't got a clue were we went next but I fancy spinning the dit about our time in Bangkok.

We sailed up a massive river, closed up at specials for what seemed like days, as we moved further inland the water became dirtier with more gash and dead dogs floating in it. We passed the pride of the Thai Navy at one point. I was instructed to pipe the still as we went past. Well fuck me, I looked everywhere for this shiny fucking ship and it was nowhere to be seen, suddenly I noticed a Thai Admiral stood on the open bridge of some rusty as fuck grey shit heap that I'd earlier thought was scrap. Hurriedly I piped the still in salute.

Eventually we docked in Bangkok, using a tug to shift the rotting gash away from the jetty so we could get alongside. I was on the gangway first day in and I fondly recall a local dive team turning up in a tuk tuk to cut a fishing net off our hull that had got snagged around the LOG reader (basically the ship's speedo). Considering how minging the ogin was, I was surprised to say the least when the 'diver' stripped off to his skids, stuck a garden hose in his mouth and jumped in, pushing a few dead dogs and syringes aside in the process. It really was a sight to behold, some half naked little Thai dude with speedo goggles, a big fuck off knife and a garden hose attached to a bike pump that his mate was busy giving it stacks with.


Next I went ashore and did all the usual stuff. Immediately I noticed that Thai Tuk Tuks are very different to the Indian ones in Madras, they're fast as fuck and the drivers think nothing of pulling the front wheel up for a cheeky wheelie. No Tuk Tuk surfing on these bad boys.

The next few days involved buying shit from Patpong market including a taser that we tested on each other, going to a Go Kart track, watching some Thai Kick Boxing, legging it from a taxi that was definitely taking me and my mate into the forest to be raped (probably), seeing the obligatory ping pong show, watching a stoker punch a bloke in the face for 10 dollars and getting a freebie off a whore by telling her that I loved her and would take her home to meet my mum.

Unfortunately she turned up on the jetty the following day with a bag of shite gifts and a card for me. I told my oppo to tell her to thin out and that I'd been sent home to the UK on a very important mission.

We also managed to squeeze in a trip to the bridge over the river Kwai and bag a ride on the death railway stopping at some war cemeteries along the way. It was very moving when I look back I wish I'd taken more of it in instead of acting the cunt with the lads and getting smashed.

The gash tat contest also really ramped up in Thailand when a lad from 3Q got a tat of 3x3=6 but with the 6 crossed out and replaced by a 9 and another lad got 'flip' and 'flop' tatted on his feet. :D
Mighty Manchester 1986
San Fran
Hong Kong
Dar Esalam
And a dit for every one but been on the vino so can't string a sentence together hic
By this point I'd started a lengthy email correspondence with Celine, the fit Irish bird I met in Vietnam, phots were being exchanged on an almost daily basis and it was fair to say I was definitely gonna get some sex off this bird. She had some weird plane ticket that entitled her to 10 random flights around SE Asia within a set period, which meant she could basically follow the ship. We aimed to meet up the next time the ship got into Singers.


I'd only met her briefly in Nam and had a cheeky snog, but I knew I was starting to get a bit loved up and she became the focus of most of my wank fantasies, taking over from Debs the wren chef. Her emails staved off the boredom when we were at sea anyway.
And so to Incheon, South Korea.

Apart from the factory where they make Epiphone guitars, there is absolutely fuck all in Incheon. On the way in we had to go through a series of locks and canals, the skipper managed to crash the ship into the jetty in front of a massive crowd of Korean Navy brass complete with a big military band and everything. It didn't cause much damage though and all was well. My mate Ruby managed to throw his heaving line directly at a Korean Admiral though, it landed in a shitty puddle just in front of him and splattered his whites.

After the initial niceties and a few ships tours, we got the train to Seoul. Personally I found the place to be a bit gash, dirtier than Singers or Hong Kong but with less going on than Bangkok or Saigon. Save for a tour of the DMZ and seeing the North Korean border, the place was gash.

I bought a load of shite gifts for my family back home, silk dressing gowns and whatnot and got a Les Paul guitar from the Epiphone factory. Considering they're about 400 quid over here, mine was quite the bargain at 80 odd.

The only other thing I can really remember about the place was a footy match in the national stadium that had been built for the World Cup. Apparently the RN introduced footy to Korea in 1890 odd when a load of matelots were kicking a ball around on the jetty. To commemorate this, the Koreans organised this massive match with shitloads of publicity, our lads were well chuffed to get to play in such a big match.

Unfortunately on the day it became apparent that a massive fuck up in comms had happened somewhere down the line. The Koreans were going to play in traditional dress, lampshade hats and sandals etc. they expected our team to play in their 1s.

Clearly this wasn't going to happen, there was no way the lads could trash their uniforms for a footy game. Phots of our lads wearing England kits playing against Koreans in full traditional dress were all over the papers. It looked shite.
At some point in the proceedings we ended up in Vladivostok.

Vladivostok is like the Russian version of Guz, it's were they keep a sizable chunk of their navy. I was on the bridge as we came in, there was heavy fog and we couldn't see fuck all. Eventually a couple of Russian Navy officers arrived by PAS boat and guided us in. I remember they both absolutely stank of BO, the skanks.

A few miles offshore we put the drill seadarts up on the launcher for show, at which point the Ruskies absolutely shit it, enquiring as to what the fuck was going on. They genuinely thought we were about to launch a missile attack on their base. After some gentle reassurance that they were just for show, all was well and we sailed in.

First impressions were good, the Russians had a massive amount of ships, most of which looked to be in a reasonable state of readiness, a sharp contrast from all the other places we'd recently been. When we eventually got ashore, we noticed that it was actually a vastly different state of affairs. The ships had been painted on the outboard side only, the side we'd see, the inboard sides of all their ships were totally fucked.

The sorry state of their navy was further confirmed when we watched them storing ship. The lads would have to sign for the sacks of potatoes etc. because they couldn't be trusted not to steal them. Later on we had a tour of one of their least fucked destroyers. The thing was in a right state, interior lighting was provided by strings of Christmas tree lights running off a portable generator and every grease nipple on every weapons mount was painted over, a sure indication that everything was just for show.

No wonder they shat it when they saw our seadarts, they'd probably never seen a moving missile launcher before. It later transpired that the reason the two officers on the bridge reaked of spicy BO was because they only get issued one shirt each.

Poverty aside and forgetting that we only had Cinderella leave, it was actually a banging run ashore, the local civpop were incredibly friendly, although only after they'd discovered we weren't yanks. A US ship had recently been in and a local girl had allegedly been raped. Once they worked out we were Brits, they were bending over backwards to buy us drinks. They had some utterly rank dried fish jerky big eats which I took back for the QM.

We went to a very grey and dilapidated fair ground, it reminded me of the set from a horror movie. There was a bloke with a trained monkey that we tried to buy but he wouldn't sell up.

Inevitably I trapped some bird. Not the fittest by any means but not bad, she spoke absolutely zero English and I spoke no Russian so it was a match made in heaven. We went for a walk, fuck knows where to, I suppose I was hoping to go back to hers. We walked under an underpass where some kids were playing a guitar, I taught them to play Wonderwall by Oasis which they liked. They gave me a sip of some absolutely rank paint stripper vodka by way of thanks.

After walking a bit further with the bird I decided it was now or never so I made my move, we shuffled over to a WW2 submarine that was perched on a plinth as a war memorial and I fingered her underneath it. I was a gent though and I didn't fuck her. As midnight drew closer I realised I'd have to fuck off or risk a trooping, I tried explaining to her that I had to go, but she didn't understand and burst into tears. Fuck knows why. I wrote my email address on the back of a receipt and gave it to her, this seemed to calm her down a bit, she wrote her's down, unfortunately it was all in Russian Cyrilic with backwards Es and Cs all over the shop. Clearly this relationship was going nowhere.

Realising that I had about 20 quids worth of Russian Ickies in my pocket and that I didn't really have space for them in my locker, I handed her a big handful of change, thinking she'd have more use for it than me. She refused to accept it, again bursting into tears. I assume she thought that I thought she was a whore or something. Fuck knows? The crazy Russian bitch.
Ooooh, nearly forgot.

There was a gun shop in the town square, inside they had loads of cool shit including a big fuck off Desert Eagle style hand gun. We went back to the shop the following day so one of the lads who'd been duty the day before could have a skeg.

It was gone. On enquiring as to what had happened to it, the shopkeeper replied "One of the men from your ship bought it about an hour ago."

My guess is that there is now a Desert Eagle in some ex matelot's drawer that was smuggled home in a tub of grease or something. Either that or he did the sensible thing and ditched it over the side.

The next few days were spent banging in a couple of exercises with the Russians, the highlight being an ADEX against some real migs. Considering we'd trained for this our entire careers, my inner AWW geek loved seeing how our ship would fair against one.

Bit of a disappointment, we picked them up fairly easily and tracked them all the way in. No different to doing an ADEX with RAF Hawks, just louder when they flew overhead. We had a few more days at sea plodding around eventually making our way to Shanghai.

Shanghai was mega, we berthed opposite that massive rocket shaped tower that looks like a thunderbirds spaceship. Unfortunately we had a really busy schedule and didn't get much time ashore. We had an endless stream of tours including fuck loads of Brit ex pats.

Assuming they were important embassy staff or heads of industry, we cracked on with it. I struck up a conversation with one tour I was guiding round, asking why they'd come on the tour.

"Oh, we're Virgin frequent fliers and this tour is a special reward."

WTF? We were giving up precious time off in a foreign land to show around a bunch of fucking frequent fliers? Fuck knows who was getting their palm crossed with gold for that little stunt, but it pissed us off big time. After that I decided to bullshit my way through the tour, explaining the seadarts were nukes and that the ship could accommodate a Harrier, we just didn't have one here because a helicopter was better suited to our current needs.

When we did eventually get ashore, we found a massive market where you could buy literally anything for a tenth of the UK price. Most lads bought sets of golf clubs. An entire set of dodgy top brand clubs came in at around 100 quid. If I'd had any sense I'd have bought a few sets and sold them when we got home. Storage onboard was obviously an issue but it worked out somehow. I got a North Face hold all for 8 quid.

One of the lads, Wiggy, had a birthday in Shanghai so we got him absolutely minging. We found a nice bar in a quiet suburb which appeared to have been a temple at some point. There where oak beams across the ceiling and at one point we had to pull Wiggy down off the beams as he attempted to do his best tight rope walker impression. As we left there was a young girl outside with a baby, Wiggy asked to hold it and immediately ran off clutching this screaming child. The mum went fucking mental and we had to give her quite a lot of money to not report is to the Police.

Some lads went to Beijing and did the Great Wall, I was duty and settled for spending a few days saving some cash and eating gash Chinese street food. Like the curries we had in India, the chinkies you get in the UK are 10 times nicer.

After that we sailed down to Quingdao, China's main naval port.
Quingdao was a bit of a dump, like a Chinese version of Hull. I remember there being a massive base and a high street with loads of fake versions of western shops. "Starrbocks" and "Mackdonalds" etc. Even the booze I the bars was fake "Budwizzer" and "Jim Daniels."

There was a big department store, not dissimilar to a John Lewis back home. Downstairs was a military outfitters, like their version of Louis Bernard and Jack Blair. I bought a 3 foot long ceremonial AK bayonet, it was cool as fuck, unfortunately I later lost it in a bet to a mate back home.

In the dockyard was a duty watch bar with incredibly cheap beer, obviously we spent most of our time there. By some weird coincidence the place happened to be full of stunning Chinese girls who spoke perfect English, they all seemed very interested in the ship for some reasons and asked loads of questions about what speed we could do and what weapons we were carrying. ;)

Once again I told them the seadarts were nukes and that we had a Harrier stashed below the hanger.

One of the baby stokers trapped one of the honey trap spies and missed the ship sailing the next day. Having left his passport onboard and China being a beaurocratic nightmare, he was pretty fucked and had to spend about 4 weeks living under house arrest in the embassy while they sorted things out for him to come back. The ship couldn't wait for him because we were sailing in company with a load of Chinese ships and it was being televised live in both China and back home.
Few years back on on Decrepid ... set out into the Windies after a 2 week stop over in Ft Lauderdale for a bit of R&R! Tipped up at some Island the name of which escapes me and found out a couple of large Cruise Liners tied up alongside which a few of the alds made a bee line for however seems that one of the hotels had offered the use of their facilities to the SR mess so couple of us sauntered up for a recce.

Seemed a decent enough place with a pool bar so and it became pretty obvious that the place was full of Yank "Blue Rinses" so we decided to hang out around the bar and see what happens and started working our way through the cocktail menu.

So sat at the bar I picked up a pack of cards which happened to be left loafing and proceeded to try out the only "card trick" I knew ... 3 rows of card and I can pick your card ... tried it out on some blue rinse who seemed damn fit (after 3 rum punches) and showed a bit of interest ... try as she could she couldn't see how I was doing it ... bingo ... before long she was buying the wets! Bloke at the end of the bar was laughing his tits off ... blue rinse was getting more and more hammered and drapped around me me so told her not to go away and disappeared off to drain the lizard ... Matey followed me to the bog still laughing saying he'd never seen that work so well ... turns out he was the "magician" on one of the cruise liners!

Back to the bar ... blue rinse was now getting very amorous so we disappeared to her hotel room for an afternoon of sexual excess and delights! Turns out she was heading back to Boston the following day so ended up staying the night and disappeared back to the ship early morning ... yeah of course I'll write .... next!
By far one of the best threads I've ever read, although technically I'm MN and now RFA i've got a couple of stories to add from my short yet eventful times so far, to follow shortly.....

I am definitely wanting a continuation from 2DD on his dits

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