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Thanks Suzanne :-)
regards
Allan
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look farward to your next thread.
take care :-)
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Ah! You suspect me of having an ulterior motive?
Moi??
Perish the thought :-D
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r did you delete it incase your wife saw it? :-D :-D
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Yes Suzanne I did.
I think thatwe had probably extracted as much humour as we could from walloping wombats, fresh badger juice and numerous frying pans, both heavy and light :-D
The thread would probably have eventually to the RSPCA (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Anything)
But please don't worry, once I get another daft notion there will be more threads. :-D :-D
Watch this space!
Regards
Allan
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did you delate your other funny thread Allan?
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Thanks Ann :-D
I hope that I didn't put Annabel off her voyage :-(
I really must also resurrect my Sherlock Holmes' story.
Allan
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Thank you Allan for an entertaining read. :-D :-D
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But as with so much of this trip our expectations exceeded the reality.
"Get the passengers below!” bellowed the captain, “And keep them out of sight”
We could hear the Customs vessel draw up alongside the galley, and a voice with an unmistakeable Australian accent called out. “Ahoy! We are going to board your ship. Heave to”. Then there was the sound of scurrying feet on the deck above.
Although we couldn’t see what was happening we could hear quite clearly.
"Do you have your Papers?” Australian Voice
“Yes. Thank you for asking. We have the ‘West Australian’, the ‘Australian’ and the ‘Sydney Morning Herald’ but they are all three or four months old!” Captain’s voice
“Been at Sea for a long time them?” Australian voice, tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes, since I was fifteen” Captain’s voice.
“I’m referring to your vessel’s Registration Papers and Clearances from your last port-of-call. And you bl**dy well know it!” Australian voice, now dripping with exasperation.
“Ah! A slight problem. I left them in my hotel room back in Adelaide”
“Right, that does it. Search the ship!” ordered the Australian voice, presumably to his own crew as we thought that the galley captain would know his own way around the vessel by now.
Suddenly, the grating above our heads was moved aside. Sunlight once more flooded into our cramped quarters. A rank stench flooded out, overpowering two Australian crew members who reeled back, gagging.
Eventually, all two hundred passengers were located and herded together on the main deck.
“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot” muttered an Australian member of crew. “I’m used to seeing boats with twenty to thirty illegals up North, but never this number before”
Illegals?
Were we, the passengers, the subject of this remark, or was it meant for the galley captain and his band of merry marauders?
Not having had access to proper ablution facilities, including mirrors, we had no idea of just what a picture we presented. Rank bodies, matted hair, beards. Mistakes were possible.
“DOES ANYONE SPEAK ENGLISH?” shouted one Australian crew member to us, in that time honoured method of most minor bureaucrats throughout the English speaking world who believe that by speaking to foreigners in a loud voice, said foreigners will miraculously understand English.
In this case miracles happened, as two hundred voices roared out in unison
“We all do, you flaming imbecile, we’re Australian”
“Do you any means of identity?”
“No. All our identity papers have been destroyed or lost overboard”
The full import of this last statement at last dawned on all concerned.
“Right! That does it” said the Aussie skipper “I’m going to tow you to Christmas Island”
The galley captain, realising that he could soon be facing charges of people smuggling, suddenly remembered where he had left the ships papers and produced them for inspection
The Australian captain, still not convinced, agreed to take us under tow and make further enquiries whilst we proceeded towards the south west of Western Australia.
At length, after long and laborious study, the Australian captain re-joined us on the galley and gave us the most welcome news that authorities in South Australia had retrieved some of our luggage, including identity documents, and it looked as though our situation had changed. Our account of the
harrowing journey had been accepted
We were now to be towed to Fremantle and it was hoped that by the time we berthed all formal procedures to allow us to land would have been completed.
A few days later we saw a most glorious sight: the skyline of Perth shimmering in the distance. People from country areas jokingly tell Perth residents that the best view of Perth is the one in the rear view mirror (well we tell them that we’re joking!) but for now the arriving and not the leaving was all that mattered
Slowly, too slowly for us, the buildings appeared in more substantial form.
Then we were on the Swan River with Fremantle fast approaching.
The passengers were all assembled on the top deck and the galley captain, using a megaphone, addressed us.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be arriving at the Port of Fremantle. Australia has strict quarantine laws to protect its borders from any introduced pests which could affect its food production. Any items of food or fruit, whether packaged or not should be declared to the Quarantine Inspectors or disposed of in the bins provided”
A susurration of dissatisfaction could be heard from the crowded deck.
“The same applies to all items of wood and….” His voice trailed off as the murmur grew into a crescendo of voices. He finally realised that with our meagre rations during the voyage, lack of visits to any ports and total loss of luggage, the normal regulations may not have been quite appropriate in our particular circumstances.
“Well anyway,” he continued gaily, “On behalf of the crew and myself we hope that you‘ve enjoyed sailing with the Davy Jones’ Line. Should you wish to join any of our future cruises we will be pleased to offer ten per cent discount customer loyalty bonus. Have a nice day and a pleasant trip home”
The passengers looked at each other in disbelief.
Then a ragged cheer emanated from those passengers closest to the side of the galley; they could see the gangway being wheeled into position.
Finally we were to leave this hell-hole we had called home for so many weeks.
The captain and crew lined up next to our point of disembarkation. As each passenger left the captain extended his hand in friendship. Most passengers ignored it.
Not my wife! She looked at the proffered hand, and smiling, shook him warmly by the throat. Not until he had taken on the colour of a very healthy Smurf did she release him.
The overseer was next to greet us. My wife immediately stepped forwards and kneed him in his nether regions, his eyes watered, as did several of the male passengers’ in sympathy with his suffering. His smile became a rictus.
He didn’t deserve that.
Before he had a chance to collapse, my wife kneed him again. He did deserve THAT!
The rest of the crew retreated in terror.
Stepping over the recumbent body of the overseer, the rest of the passengers left the ship.
As for my wife and myself, we stayed only long enough to steal some clothes from various washing lines so that we could restore a modicum of respectability for our battered bodies and then hailed a Taxi.
I was about to give the driver our home address when my wife stopped me.
“No!” she shouted, “Take us to the Travel Agents.”
I could see the murderous glint in her eyes. I begged her to rethink the whole matter and asked her whether it was worth spending the next fifteen years in prison for murder.
“Murder?” queried my wife, “Murder? Who said anything about murder? I want to get to the Travel Agents as soon as possible to take advantage of that ten per cent offer, and book our next cruise before all berths are sold.”
When the taxi stopped at the next set of red lights, I jumped out and fled, screaming, into the night.
The end
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I'll send you a pm annabel, if that is ok with you. Just let me know :-D
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Yes hope that was not the boat you were on :-0
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Is it on the M?V Ath*na, Annabel? From Freo? :-)
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Alan after reading this in two minds to cancel my 6 weeks cruise to the UK via Africa that is coming up soon but I was so looking forwards to it. :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( :-( Annabel
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The days dragged into weeks.
The food was minimal and our treatment criminal.
Then a day dawned when the galley overseer came down to visit us.
“It’s the captain’s birthday tomorrow so he has decided he’d like you to help him celebrate. You can all have the rest of today off, and a meal will be served in the main lounge.” he told us.
A ragged cheer, such as only can be rasped from two hundred parched throats, greeted this news.
We staggered onto the upper deck, shielding our eyes from the unaccustomed sunlight.
From there, pausing only for a quick wash, and in some cases to trim beards (actually, many of the ladies would have looked better had they shaved them off completely) we made our way to the lounge.
There, set before us, was a repast such as we had not seen since our days on the Indian Pacific; slow cooked seagulls, kelp salads, several types of fish and set as a centre piece was a stuffed Albatross. This last was rather worrying for those of us who knew our poetry.
“Eat!” said the overseer, with a grin, “The captain wishes you to be in fine fettle for his birthday”
“That’s very good of him” one of the prisoners, sorry, passengers, responded, “But why the change of heart and fortune?”
“Well the captain does like to maintain his little birthday traditions.” answered the overseer.
“Such as?” queried the passenger.
“Such as water-skiing” laughed the overseer.
We all looked round but could see no speedboat, or even any other type of boat, which could be used for such a purpose. This fact was mentioned to the overseer who cheerfully replied that the captain in fact used the galley.
We digested this fact rather more quickly than we digested the food.
It slowly dawned on us why we had been given the day off and the meal.
“What if we’re not up to the task?” asked a brave soul
“You don’t really want an answer to that question do you?” asked the overseer
“Yes!!” responded two hundred frightened voices.
“Well, ‘tis a mighty long swim ahead for you, if you disappoint him”
“He wouldn’t?”
“Oh yes he would”
“Oh no he wouldn’t”
This pantomime continued for some time. I was expecting the captain to appear from a trap-door at any time surrounded by purple smoke
When he did put in an appearance he was, in fact, surrounded by green smoke, or at least a green haze. As he probably hadn’t bathed or washed for several weeks this was quite understandable.
“You mutinous dogs! You miserable curs! Are ye all refusing me my little birthday treat?” roared the captain
Two hundred souls decided to play the innocent, and not a word was murmured.
“So be it! This how you repay my kindness is it?” he asked in a quieter, but more intimidating manner. “You all wanted some Namby Pamby cruise, waited on hand and foot. I’ve given you a glimpse of what life at sea really means!”
“Yes!” replied one brave soul, who obviously suffered from terminal stupidity (but not for long) “But we paid for the Namby Pamby cruise!”
And there, at last, was stated the root cause of our problem, and, possibly the start of a mutiny. We had paid for the journey, albeit at a cut price. We knew that the Cruise business was a cut-throat one, but we didn’t expect to find ourselves on a cruise where that expression was beginning to take on a literal turn.
The captain advanced on the passengers; the passengers retreated, forced back by the power of the captain’s rancid breath.
The situation was beginning to turn as ugly as the captain, when, suddenly, a crew member shouted a warning “Captain, there be a vessel fast approaching”
We all paused and stared at each other. Up until that time, the crew had spoken a type of pseudo classical English. Now, it appeared that they had lapsed into some sort of parody of the pirate phraseology. (Almost a Gilbert and Sullivan moment there)
“What be her colours?” demanded the captain.
“Can’t see.” replied the crew man, sorry, crew person (remembering the little old lady from earlier in the tale) “But she be red in colour”
“Can you see her name?”
“Yes cap’n, but it be very weird! She be called the ‘Customs and Border Protection’”
The captain blanched.
We cheered.
Rescue was on the way!!
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Hello Sailor
nudge up for Allan x :-D
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The ship certainly hasn't sunk, Huia; even if it had it wouldn't be anything that you have done.
I was very busy yesterday and will also be busy over the next few days.
Let's just say that at the moment the story is giving the impression of a fish, a flounder!
I promise that I will complete it shortly (after all it is a short story :-D)
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I think I have sunk the ship.
Huia.
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