Disaster befell today as Jennifer threw overboard a perfectly serviceable bit of leek, only partially rotted and still quite edible. Christine was sore on the potatoes with over zealous peeling - they were only partially green and much more could have been salvaged.
A trail of teaspoons marks our course and has been laid all along our route as this hapless bunch of imbeciles can't get the idea of throwing the waste water overboard without including a teaspoon for good measure.
Introduced the crew to some convict juice in the shape of “19 Crimes” ozzie plonk which altho' in a box seemed to have become corked. Christine turned her nose up at it while Jennifer was somnolent with Stugeron. Later Christine tried to wake me when I was somewhat groggy with the grog but valiantly I sprung to my feet and demanded to know what was the issue. She declared that there was a loud rasping and grinding noise, which indeed was the case and the depth sounder was showing 0.4 metres. I wearily assured the silly mare that all was well apart form some chain dragging (something to do with the convict libations perhaps) and shooshed her off to her cabin. Barely a few minutes later she resurfaced claiming we had run aground. This was NOT the case. We had simply ridden up a sand bar and were kissing it lightly with our bottom.
As if things could not get any worse, some imbecile stored the binoculars incorrectly - NEVER stand them upright. And someone has coiled a rope against the sun! Honestly, I'm seriously considering reintroducing keel hauling. The crew are starting to smell a bit but as we’ve only got 1 and a half tanks of water in reserve we have to go careful with the showers. Heaving them overboard for a wash is the best thing.
Having brought on board 6 packets of tea, the crew mistakenly assumed that there would be fresh tealeaves every time a brew was made. I'm pleased to report (after words with the quarter master) that the crew are delighted with fresh leaves daily. We have a ship's boy - lookout monkey aboard who is only too happy to be hoisted up to the first spreader by his tackle. Things were going along nicely until I realised he had no clue what he was doing and we ran aground, sorry, kissed another sandbar. No harm done. Today, bowling along at 7.5 knots we have the penny farthing poled out at the top high falutin', amidships everything is a-twang and the ship's boy has been spatchcocked - it made his eyes smart a bit and he now walks legs akimbo. The bikini bottoms are flying true and straight and all's well aboard Yemaya.
Well toodle pip just now
(from the real Jock blog x x )
spatchcocked is beyond my knowledge of english but it surely is against the human rights