20 -
.
On a Monday morning I arrived at
another of the Puffers and heard
slurred greetings from two of
the crew sitting on a plank
suspended by ropes over the
side. Each had a paint pot
beside them. I observed that
they looked very much the worse
of wear probably from the
previous nights sojourn ashore.
On board the Skipper
had just started explaining to
me what was wrong with VHF radio
when we heard loud , agitated
shouts of
“Fire! Fire Fire”. We both
rushed out on deck to find an
old town worthy on the quay
shaking his head and laughing.
He pointed his pipe at the two
hung-over crewmen “ Look at them
– they are painting so fast
their brushes are on fire.” The
two seamen were dozing quite
happily- their brushes
stationary on the hull keeping
them both from falling off the
plank. With a certain amount of
coarse adjectival verbosity the
Skipper shocked them into
anxious painting activity. The
old worthy nearly choked on his
pipe—then called out “Christ!
Look at them go –well done
Skipper.”
Bill Mills
