Well I suppose we can vary the blend to give one the 'boost' required in which ever way the drinker swings.

(A friend of mine's mother was asked before a diagnostic heart procedure if she had taken any Viagra recently. Evidently administering it was part of the test procedure. I've asked BUPA if I can have one. Just as precaution you understand).

It seems that ES has been wearing out his welcome in the local bars here in Lima -- comes back to the GD for Gripetini??

Methinks that on the morrow we should tidy up and sneak out of the harbour and head for Valparaiso. Loads of bars and clubs there although if we let the plasticos ashore we might have a problem getting them out of some establishments to come back to the ship.

Weather looking good for a pleasant cruise down the coast. Pax lounge for a prepare to leave the port party. :pint:

I think all we have to do to get the plasticos back from ashore is to send E-S to do a round of the harbour bars pre-sozzled with Sweded Gripetini.

ES is not amused.

I am so sorry ES. I thought you were hyphenated.

He doesn't have a squeaky voice.

No V, you hyphenated me. In my naivety I believed you had heard something mentioned in the hallowed marble halls in which you circulate, only to be disappointed once again. Is it my Secondary Modern education?
ES versus E-S? Upon mature reflection I agree with you, E-S has a touch of Class about it. Class which is badly needed and appreciated on GD2. Fcuk the working class.

Did someone say "working glass?"

Mine's a pint please steward.

Well, you have a touch of it so E-S it will be. Should you acquire another handle, provided it is not of the life sort, I will be sure to use it.

I am not, however, sure I concur as to GD2's compliment. Ladies and gentlemen to the nth, every one. (A pity, as there is a lot of the remaining alphabet to award).

Quote:[A pity, as there is a lot of the remaining alphabet to award. Quote]


Last time GD1 transited the Suez Canal the Gilly-Gilly Man had a business card which showed him to have the professional qualifications of "BSc, Bombay (Failed), VD and Scar". Such academic brilliance enabled him to produce chicks from Ladies (and wives) bosoms.
Can't do that with a "MIMarEST.

Here I am, all alone in the Pax lounge waiting for everyone to join me for a leaving the port party. Is it that no one wants to leave Lima due to the frivolity and and fleshly delights available ashore here???? Do not the similar allures of Valparaiso entice??????? :kiss:

Tom me oul mucker, who the hell do you think is pulling in the ropes , single up Fore and Aft, put water on deck and power on the Forecastle. Test the Steering Gear, run-up the second alternator and kick the main engine over on air.
Sober up Tom, get your steaming bonnet on and your arse up to the wheelhouse. Full Away on Passage, me hearties.

With the instruction book we certainly can! (I am only AMImarEST, Sir, Chief, Eminence, Y'r Grace etc. flat cap at the doff).

I can explain some of that. All the plasticos are in the fwd cocktail lounge. The Sweded Gripe is going down like a house on fire (that is possibly a poor analogy, given it's flammability). They're not so much singled-up ready to go but doubled and going.

If you move your feet Tom I could get out from under here. I'm hiding from two of the pretty ones with this bottle of port. Well, empty bottle. You could just pass me down another, passed to port, of course, must keep our manners minded.

Hmmm, Main Engines ticking over, Must nip up to the Bridge with a bottle of Four Bell's. Its a joy to watch Tom handle the old girl.

Whilst Tom is getting nostalgic with some lady (!!), I'll gently ease us on our way.

Let go fore and aft, steer for the hole in the wall and apply some power, you chaps, you have all done this before.

Ah, Tom, don't cry into your hanky, she is gone with the pilot now, there'll be someone else at the next port. Valley Paradiso, here we come.

Quick 4 Bells for us all and the usual Black Bush down the voice pipe for Tmac.

Ah, Tom, don't cry into your hanky, Indeed not!

I don't think we have anyone pulling their rope, pudding or anything else. We do have Cutouts heaving and stowing lines. I doubt if you would know the difference between a chain stopper and a breast hook so you'd better stay below.

You'd also better defer to Tmac before you turn over anything in the injun room. I doubt he would be amused to hear that someone turned over his nuclear powered steam turbine/gas turbine with compressed air. (Engines updated to run on dual fuel, and injuneered so there are no carbon emissions.) The fuel oil we carry is mainly used for the distillation of spiritus fermenti and heating the swimming pool.

You will pleased to hear that not only my arse is up in the wheelhouse, but also the rest of my bits as well. They will be well stuck together with the Four Bells Sir William is sending up. :brain:

Hairy harsed seamen do not have hankies -- we have snot rags. Nothing dainty up on deck!

Yawn ....Stretch...Pffffffffffart.

Steward!...Full english, fesh coffee and the usual bottle please.

Sister-in-Law phoned to discuss Will, Trust etc and then asked how tall I was. Does anyone do coffins for Christmas gifts? Have I been looking "off peak"?

Could be buying you some skis? It's serious when they ask what is your favourite wood and have you got a decent suit.

Sod that David. You hang on for your telegram from the Queen Shipmate.

That, Sir W, might well be an unwanted bridge crossing. I will be surprised should I get there (or even to the card from HE which comes at 90). Far worse is to get there and be unaware. Hemlock. Gripe and hemlock while one can still carry out a sane and sentient decision.

As for the suit. I am keeping my uniform for that ceremony. Might need a gusset or several - either me or the barathea. What, I wonder, do the woolly pulley brigade intend to wear for the occasion? I suppose I will have to keep a shirt with a collar for the bloody tie - looks exceedingly silly when worn with a plain round job. Not that that stopped The East India Club making me wear one from their flea ridden porter's box when calling for lunch. That is another establishment I will avoid. Appallingly drunk is, rather like GD, OK. Tieless is not, sandals are not. Any suggestions that GD should adopt any such stupidity will mean an immediate cessation to Gripe production!

When I eventually make it to the big shipyard in the sky I will be attired in my greasiest oil stained and tattered boiler suit. The diverse mixture of carbon based residue should ensure a good blaze and trouble free ignition.

As for the final music as I depart to the nether regions what better than "Blaze Away" ?

For you Tmac a wooly pulley would be an improvement. If you a going to go up the flu like that then it will certainly not be a green departure unless done at very high temperature (that's why dead plasticos have to be put over the side - dioxin danger if you just bang 'em in the baby boiler).

Reminds of the occasion of the funeral of my last surviving Aunt. When I arrived at the Crematorium, I was surprised and a little puzzled to see a Fire Appliance in the car park. Perhaps there ought to be one arranged to attend for our Chief. Who knows how violent the conflagration would be when his boiler suit reaches the temperature of combustion? :eek:

See, Varley? Not everyone waits till the right time.

I trust you mean "who survived the longest" if she was surviving when you put a torch to her blue bombazine I suggest it would be a police appliance that should have been waiting.

A feisty and delightful old and single friend of mine who died at ninety following a fire in her flat went to "chariots of fire". She had driven the Dutch Royal family in London during the war and when I was helping her niece clear out the fire damaged flat we found in her bedside cabinet drawer a set of knuckle dusters.

Oh! You mean it's a "Come as you are" party? (Sorry --- I mean wake! :pint::pint::pint:

By coincidence, my aunt who survived the longest, was the last to go, popped her clogs after all her sisters, brothers, and in-laws, served in the Admiralty Charts Offices in WWII. I think it was in or near Bristol, and she was a Wren. I don't think she actually drew the charts, but was involved in getting them to the various convoy conferences as well as sending correction notices out to the Fleet. She would have been perfectly at ease in the chartroom on GDII, I'm certain of that. (Actually, she also had a very penetrating voice, and so would have been an invaluable asset if our foghorn ever failed at a critical moment! :jester:)

It's too bad we can't call your Aunt back to duty (I mean we're good, but not that good) Perhaps she would have had the ability to remove all the rum, coffee, tea, and other such deleterious stains from our charts, so we could actually see where we were going. Talking about rum, evening piss-up on the Garden Deck. :pint:

Ship inspection at 11:00 tomorrow morning. :)

Good thinking Tom. She was very house proud, and also highly skilled at making marmalade. So although the charts would indeed have been kept relatively pristine, they may have exhibited a few sticky finger prints. :big_tongue:

Perhaps the dear lady could have darned the burnholes? The dry cleaning repair service did a creditable job on Pa's dinner Jacket - peppered as it was with the lining showing through where our pipe dottle had scored direct hits (consecutively of course we did not share the garment). Mind you I don't know that a dinner jacket is recognised as an aid to navigation. My experience is that when I am in it it is normally in need of that service.

Indeed, a dinner jacket is an aid to navigation ----- when the buttons are in the front, one is operating in "ahead" configuration, whereas ----- when the buttons are in the back, one is operating "astern" which demands three short blasts on the tooter. :bounce:

And once one has dined, one can hoist "not under command" from the back of the collar.

By golly you are right, however can one exhibit one's balls vertically at the same time as wearing a Zulu hoist?

I am not sure the dry cleaners could deal with the result of tooting and when taking to the floor (and where that architecture remains under the keel rather than along it) there would be a lot of sound signals required, what with all backing and forthing required of the terpsichorean navigationals.

My late Aunt was, as it so happens, a skilled seamstress as well. So good in fact, that she made her own gymslip and skirts to the official pattern when she attended Ilford County High School for Girls in the 1930's. She also made blouses for my Mum and other sister too. So a few scorch marks as well as rips and tears to any item of clothing, uniform or off duty wear, could have been dealt with skilfully and swiftly so that all would be presentable for Admiral's Rounds on Sunday mornings. :supercool:

I wonder then if we should not encourage a sew-sew girl or two (of, like your good lady aunt, high breeding) to join the staff of our chief plastico? Smalls mended, barathea repaired, elbows pached (only when needed never for fashionable effect), charts rejuvenated etc. Perhaps even tailoring (but then I can do that. Turn a long sleeved shirt into short? A doddle providing one can find the garden shears).

DS you seem to be rather knowledgeable about seamstresing, could you please arrange for one dozen Big Girls Blouses to be delivered to our Bridge, Deck Articles for the use off. Could they have shoulder tabs for epaulettes as BB and FJ are sticklers for rank. Lecky V would be grateful for inset gussets Port and Stbd.
I often lie in my day-bed after a Lunchtime O'Booze and dream of Ilford County High School for Girls, a little more information would be treasured. Say no more.