A Matelot is not born: he is made out of leftovers! God built the world and the animals and then recycled the gash to create this dastardly weapon. He took the leftover roar of the lion, the howl of the hyena, the clumsiness of the ox, and the stubbornness of the mule, the slyness of the fox, the wildness of the bull and the pride of the peacock. Then added the filthy evil mind of the devil to satisfy his weird sense of humour. A Matelot evolved into a crude combination of John Dillinger, Errol Flynn, Beau Brummel and Valentino. A swashbuckling, beer swilling, lovemaking LIAR! A Matelot likes girls, rum, beer, fights, uckers, runs ashore, pubs, jokes, long leave, his mates and his ticket. He hates officers' rounds, divisions, saluting middies, naval police, painting the side, jaunties, navy scran, and his turn in the barrel and signing on. A Matelot comes in four colours: white, off white, dirty and filthy, all looking alike under a tan and uniform. He is brave drinking beer, abusive playing crib, brutal defending his pride and passionate making love. He can start a brawl, create a disaster, offend the law, desert his ship, and make you lose your money, your temper and your mind! He can take your sister, your mother, your aunt, and when he is caught get his captain to vouch for his integrity. A Matelot is loved by all mothers, sisters, aunts and nieces; hated by all fathers, brothers, uncles and nephews. He has a girl in every port and a port in every girl. He breaks more hearts, causes more fights and begets more bastards than any other man, yet when off to sea he is missed more than any other! A Matelot is a mean, hard drinking, fast running, mealy mouthed son of a bitch, but when you are in strife he is a strong shoulder to lean on, a pillar of wisdom, and a defender of the faith and cause. He fights for his mates, and dies for his country, without question or hesitation! This is a Matelot! Anon.