The time past so quick that the light hearted banter took the evening, buying rounds of drinks was a new experience, never before had I the money or even the inclination to spend my time in this way. Ladies were showing great interest in the fresh faces in uniform, it would seem we were a great attraction even here as if they had never before seen a sailor. Likely they were interested in relieving us of more than our money.
There were six of us in all and that meant if we managed it, six pints would be consumed, this seemed to be a reasonable amount and we all agreed to retire in a soberly manner and return to camp after that point. Best laid plans of mice and men, the noise grew louder as the evening moved on, the old salts watched on in amusement as the next generation of pretenders followed on in their steps.
The sixth pint on the table and almost time to depart, I was being eyed by a good looking girl, we had caught eyes several times during the short time that we were in the bar, she had more courage than I because she made the first move, she had friends with her and they were egging her on. She stopped in front of me, while all around looked on silently, she said in a broad Janner accent, “can I touch yer dickie for luck”, my face must have been a picture and going red quickly. This was obviously not the first time she had said it and it was said in a fashion that it was obviously her party trick. I got the feeling all her friends knew what my reaction was going to be, the old salts were laughing into there beers at my obvious embarrassment. I replied “naw thanks”. The last pint went down quicker than the first and we left for the ferry back to Torpoint.
The evening had been great fun really and I was feeling quite encouraged by the young girls advances, we staggered our way along Union street and eventually sobered up enough to get back to HMS Raleigh and passed the gate staff. Others in the class had not been quite so lucky there were stories of vomiting, fighting and also one very expensive leg over, others never made it back in time and as a consequence we all suffered.
The next day started slow as most were “under the weather” but it was Saturday, everyone had been enthused at the enjoyment we had from our short period of relief from camp life. The weekend was our own but it was spent getting over the Friday night and preparing for whatever came next on Monday morning.
Captains Rounds:
We were informed that failure was just not acceptable, everything had to be cleaned, more than cleaned, all surfaces had to be spotless, all metal polished, windows without smears, curtains Ironed and tied with a white bow, heads and bathrooms squeaky clean, inside of overheads, carpets hoovered, beds made in good old naval fashion, the list was endless. We worked all night without sleep the end result was in our eyes, perfect, we finished off with a personal touch stacking all our hats like champagne glasses with the cap tallies facing the front.
While Captain’s rounds were being carried out we marched to the cinema, not to see the latest blockbuster, no, this was billed as Drugs, Alcohol and Venereal disease. After an hour of screwed up faces of horror I was glad yon lassie never got to touch ma dickie.
Not only had we passed rounds we had also won the Captains cake for the best Mess.
The cake was wonderful and in our enthusiasm and lack of plates we made an absolute mess, just in time for an impromptu visit from the accomodation Petty Officer who then rescrubbed the whole block because of the state of our mess. We were not popular. Who could imagine winning the cake and then rescrubbing all in the same day.
A Sailors Dickie:
Is the blue vest and collar that is worn by a sailor that hang over the back of his suit.
Historically worn to prevent tar from the pony tail getting on the clothes. The three white stripes on the collar are also historically said to commemorate the three battles won by Nelson.
In Naval folklore if a young maiden rubbed a sailors dickie it was supposed to bring them good luck.
Janner:
Any English person born within ten miles of the sea, especially someone from Plymouth
Under the weather:
During storms the lookout in the crows nest was pretty miserable, and he was continually soaked with cold, harsh spray, often causing him to become ill.
Rescrubbing:
This is the unpleasant act of doing the same actions all over again, usually after a failure.
There were six of us in all and that meant if we managed it, six pints would be consumed, this seemed to be a reasonable amount and we all agreed to retire in a soberly manner and return to camp after that point. Best laid plans of mice and men, the noise grew louder as the evening moved on, the old salts watched on in amusement as the next generation of pretenders followed on in their steps.
The sixth pint on the table and almost time to depart, I was being eyed by a good looking girl, we had caught eyes several times during the short time that we were in the bar, she had more courage than I because she made the first move, she had friends with her and they were egging her on. She stopped in front of me, while all around looked on silently, she said in a broad Janner accent, “can I touch yer dickie for luck”, my face must have been a picture and going red quickly. This was obviously not the first time she had said it and it was said in a fashion that it was obviously her party trick. I got the feeling all her friends knew what my reaction was going to be, the old salts were laughing into there beers at my obvious embarrassment. I replied “naw thanks”. The last pint went down quicker than the first and we left for the ferry back to Torpoint.
The evening had been great fun really and I was feeling quite encouraged by the young girls advances, we staggered our way along Union street and eventually sobered up enough to get back to HMS Raleigh and passed the gate staff. Others in the class had not been quite so lucky there were stories of vomiting, fighting and also one very expensive leg over, others never made it back in time and as a consequence we all suffered.
The next day started slow as most were “under the weather” but it was Saturday, everyone had been enthused at the enjoyment we had from our short period of relief from camp life. The weekend was our own but it was spent getting over the Friday night and preparing for whatever came next on Monday morning.
Captains Rounds:
We were informed that failure was just not acceptable, everything had to be cleaned, more than cleaned, all surfaces had to be spotless, all metal polished, windows without smears, curtains Ironed and tied with a white bow, heads and bathrooms squeaky clean, inside of overheads, carpets hoovered, beds made in good old naval fashion, the list was endless. We worked all night without sleep the end result was in our eyes, perfect, we finished off with a personal touch stacking all our hats like champagne glasses with the cap tallies facing the front.
While Captain’s rounds were being carried out we marched to the cinema, not to see the latest blockbuster, no, this was billed as Drugs, Alcohol and Venereal disease. After an hour of screwed up faces of horror I was glad yon lassie never got to touch ma dickie.
Not only had we passed rounds we had also won the Captains cake for the best Mess.
The cake was wonderful and in our enthusiasm and lack of plates we made an absolute mess, just in time for an impromptu visit from the accomodation Petty Officer who then rescrubbed the whole block because of the state of our mess. We were not popular. Who could imagine winning the cake and then rescrubbing all in the same day.
A Sailors Dickie:
Is the blue vest and collar that is worn by a sailor that hang over the back of his suit.
Historically worn to prevent tar from the pony tail getting on the clothes. The three white stripes on the collar are also historically said to commemorate the three battles won by Nelson.
In Naval folklore if a young maiden rubbed a sailors dickie it was supposed to bring them good luck.
Janner:
Any English person born within ten miles of the sea, especially someone from Plymouth
Under the weather:
During storms the lookout in the crows nest was pretty miserable, and he was continually soaked with cold, harsh spray, often causing him to become ill.
Rescrubbing:
This is the unpleasant act of doing the same actions all over again, usually after a failure.
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