There times when I would have liked a photocopier.
When I sailed on the Mobil Pegasus (whoring for GTZM for a trip because I was stony broke after financing my way through MED/MRGC at Southampton in 1975) I was paid a monthly amount (beer money) to do some of the Old Man's paperwork. Things like customs and crew lists and other odds and ends. I could touch type so that wasn't much bother, but in order to produce copies they had one of those crankywanky Banda machines that involved a weird stencil and a thermonuclear explosion of ink.
I'd come out of the ships office looking like a miner who's just spent 10 hours in a narrow coal seam. The Old Man thought it was hilarious.
