Mental Illness and the MN

Tankermen,
remember on watch when anchored in the Gulf awaiting a berth, maybe at anchor for six weeks in the outer anchorage 42 miles offshore. Sweating the goolies off, bored, just waiting every day for a call for a berth that never came.
As the sun began to appear on the horizon, the start of another hot, humid day, the Dawn Chorus would start on Channel 16 on VHF.
A thousand Cock a doodle doos, then Baa Baa, then Moo Moo, then Grunt snore, all the farmyard calls.
Then things of that nature would continue all day, and after day, after day.
I was there one Christmas Eve around 1979 ish.
The screams of abuse and of all kinds of wild life pouring out of the VHF were getting worse.
Then at midnight Christmas Eve, a voice of a young French lady sang, `SILENT NIGHT`. in French.
the screams fell silent , She sang all the way through, it was really beautiful, never heard anything like it before or since. It brought a tear to the eyes. lovely.and very emotional.
Then she finished and the silence lasted for five minutes, everyone must have been thinking of home.
Suddenly all the screaming and noise started again.
Happy days.
Brian

Hi John (Cassels).........re your post #60.

Moi ! moi !, biased against the Scots....wash your mouth out, mate. I'll have you know that the father of my two youngest grandsons was born in the shadow of Stirling Castle the very cradle of Scottish intrigue and historical punch-ups. No, John, I've nothing whatsoever against the Scots (I was going to add...'but I wouldn't want my daughter to marry one', however, it's a little too late for that ....... the damage has been
done:D).

As an aside to the subject matter, I would ask you to ponder this for a moment......those two wee lads of whom I speak, aged five and six, I love dearly, but although Australian by birth they sometimes speak a strange Strine/Scottish dialect that their own grandfather cannot understand, forcing him to ask other members of the family to translate. .As the Yanks annoyingly say..."Go figure":confused:. As for their father, although he does possess some strange Celtic habits, he, thankfully, has a grasp of the basic tenets of personal hygiene and besides, my daughter does most of the cooking:).

......cheers, Roger

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Originally Posted by Gulliver

LANDS END FOR ORDERS Terry;-Especially on tankers when eventual discharge port was not yet finalised-usually made everyone happy(- as in going home !)

Gulliver

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Happened to me once that's why i was only in the one tanker. There was i packed up my old troubles heading for shell haven had a good dose of the channels been away 4 months which was enough on board a tanker for me then we got New Orders at landsend set a course for Houston :th_thth5952deef: never again Regards Gulliver Terry:mad:

For some young lads joining a passenger liner for the first time it must have been a bit odd. I had been warned by an uncle about the 'women who were not real women'. But for many a young lad their first encounter with som eof the queens, particularly with UCL and P&O it could have had a terrible effect on them. Even for some hardened crew they were a bit much, but the bloods appeared to like them.

Hi john, Think I posted this before
As a young man i sailed on the Iberia New Years Eve.
In the pig that night having smoochy dances with what I thought was a stewardess.
Saved by my cabin mate in the nick of time.Didn't really know about the alternate life style in those days. Had had a shelterd childhood.
For the rest of the trip I was a bit of a target for the girls who thought I was into that sort of thing. Wrong!!
Den.;)

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Originally Posted by John Callon

Or half a case of Tennants and a bottle of 4 Bells.
John

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That was the treatment for depression;):th_thth5952deef:

Always remember a skipper berating an apprentice for doing something wrong, by saying, " Usual story,Idiot of the family, send him to sea" And the lad replying , "Oh no sir thats all changed since your day." Cheers Albi.

[QUOTE=Albert Bishop;76587]Always remember

AS a B & C Engineer Cadet , we were berated by a grumpy irritable old Chief Engineer , Who believed that Engineers only came from Scotland , were John Brown trained , and drank whiskey . He was berating the Third Engineer one day , an ex company cadet from Wolverhampton for being useless , English and an Ex cadet . The Third agreed with him and explained that he had never received the proper training at sea because there were no really good men available to train him , He and the Chief were in agreement until someone pointed out that Cadet training was the Chief's responsibility , The third very nearly got away with it , The Chief stomped off and never quite got the fact that the Third had just got him to agree that as Chief Engineer he was rubbish .:confused:

I personally can't remember any type of psychological or mental wellfare tests before going to sea. Neither was there any I.Q. testing or suchlike. I did sail with people who were insane to a certain degree. There was one in Cunard who always dressed as Dracula when off duty and slept in a corpse position. Others were (on hindsight) suffering from extreme depression, but many lasted for years in this condition at sea, but very rarely went on leave or went ashore. It seemed to be their own way of coping by depriving themselves of family and companionship. Many Chief Cooks, Bosun's, Skipper's and Engineers were a bit strange, to say the least, but most R.O.s I met were a weeeee bit stranger again!
Oop's I've said IT NOW!!! Wait for the flack!!!!
Incoming, incoming.....:rolleyes:
BG

I sailed with a R.O. on a VLCC a couple of times. In his cabin he had several Teddybears dressed up as Hitler, complete with a black Moustache and swastika arm bands, When he went on leave another RO took over who I knew, he called me into the cabin and he took the matress off the double bunk . Look at that he said. the bed was covered all over in hundreds and hundreds of used tea bags.
The same strange Sparky was drunk most nights. I came off the bridge at around 0030 one night and looked into the lounge. He was lying on the deck in a drunken stupor, all he was wearing was a pair of shorts. I got a butter dish full of melted butter, [ this was in the heat of the Gulf ] , No one else was around so I slid his shorts down to his knees and poured the oil over the crack of his bum and then closed the door and turned in. Next morning at breakfast I was watching him, He was smiling at everyone who came into the Saloon in the hope of some recognition. He must have thought he had been got at. He was totally mad.