Silas and the Australian Navy

Certain members of the Australian Royal Navy, or whatever they call themselves, have no sense of humour. 'Stuck up' is my description of the Commodore of the fleet and his henchmen who caused a large black mark to be placed against my good name. Just because he has a nice big vessel, a smart uniform and an ego the size of crate of good Scotch whisky was no good cause for his reaction to a certain incident that he was confronted with.

Just before this incident occurred I and my fellow officers were enjoying ourselves thoroughly and it is a crying shame that the fully suited Admiral (or whatever he was) and his merry men could not have joined in the fun or at least allowed us our happiness of the moment.

The scene of the crime
It was in Rabul in Papuan New Guinea where the true colours of the ARN where hauled up the mast for all to see. Rabul Bay and at anchor between the mountains and the islands! We had steamed in that morning; dropped the hook and were not due to go alongside the jetty until the following day. Lovely place is Rabul and at anchor, ideal for a few beers whilst watching the sun set. I get bored though, I usually do if we are not steaming along or busy loading discharging cargo and by ten o'clock in the morning I was itching for a bit of action - the thought of waiting until the sun set was agonising. A bar ashore would have done me fine but Rabul is not well known for its hostelries and welcome comfort.

Sitting at anchor and waiting is a killer that no amount of beverage consumption will cure and I was busy finishing off a can of beer when I happened to glance at the small boat that we use for painting the ships sides. The jolly boat was just sitting there doing nothing - and an idea sprang into my mind. I fetched another beer and went to stand beside this sorry excuse for a boat to get let this idea ferment in my brain. By the end of that second can I knew exactly what this little wooden sieve with the ten HP motor on the back could do for me.

Off on an adventure ..
The third can of beer was working its way down my neck as we left the ships side, heading in the direction of an island across the bay. It looked deserted and ideal for an afternoon's fun and thus I found myself squashed between the 2/M and the Chief Engineer with the Third Engineer gripping the throttle of our trusty machine. Off us mighty souls set: loaded with stores and goods and heading into the last outback of civilisation and the unknown!!!!!

Wedged like a sardine in a can with more water in our boat than we could get rid of, we reached golden shores of safety - only just and probably never had we not demolished a few of the many cans of beer that we had brought with us.

We had a great time on that Island. The chief managed to root out some locals and with a piece of driftwood, a coconut and some beers to quench the thirst we thrashed them at cricket. It was a great day and by the time the sun was starting to diminish in strength we decided that a return to the big ship was in hand. It would have been great had we just returned to our vessel and drank some more before retiring to bed, but that just never happened. Unfortunately the man in white came down out of the sky and ruined the day for us big style.

The Admiral .
The admiral accused us of recklessness, misconduct and drunken and dangerous acts that where directed at a vessel of the Australian Royal Navy. He also included somewhere in his lengthy diatribe about us causing rabble like behaviour towards his officers and crew by making lewd and disgusting gestures and he ended up saying that we where a disgrace to the Merchant Navy and all who sail the seven seas. He certainly put it on to us big style and had my company not been brought into the situation via his many letters of complaint I would not have been so put out about the whole situation.

The end to a good day ..
We loaded up our boat with the many empty cans that had somehow littered the beach, and set forth back to our vessel in our very slow and unreliable piece of drift wood. Somehow the engine kept puttering and the ingress of water remained manageable and we worked our way at a snails pace back to our vessel in the anchorage. Along the way we happened to pass the rather large destroyer that had entered the bay that afternoon and which now stood darkly in our way.

As we chugged past the bow of this mighty fighting vessel we happened to notice that its crew where all standing to attention in their smart white uniforms. Their seemed to be hundreds of them lined up on the main decks, the gun platforms and the bridge wings. The whole vessel was filled with these white machines and for some reason what we saw made us stand up and to sing a rather loud and raucous rendering of "Rule Britannia".

In fact as we came along the side of the vessel our efforts on the song front increased and we found ourselves standing up in our unsteady platform whilst bawling out our song as loud as we could shout. I am not sure if it was the Chief or the Second Mate who decided to show a 'moonie' at the boat, but the last half of our voyage down the destroyers side saw the four of us bent over forwards with our bums pointing upwards towards the serious crews on deck.

By the time we had passed the stern we fell into a collapsed heap in the bottom of our boat. We continued our slow process towards our vessel and basically thought nothing more of the situation.

The aftershocks ..
Needless to say our actions upset the finer workings of the mighty military machine of Australia and a letter landed on my desk the following morning. The letter arrived via the hand of some poor abused man in white who scuttled away like a frightened rabbit, feared of us hardy sailors, or feared of his serious captain I know not. But anyway the letter stated that we where a disgrace to the Merchant Navy and that the Admiral of this mighty boat would welcome an apology for our dangerous and upsetting disturbance of the other day.

I was actually going to draft out an apology, best to smooth ruffled feathers, but I after a few drinks over lunch my attitude and opinions changed. I could not see where we had gone wrong and if he (the admiral) could not see the funny side of the occurrence then why should I take the brunt.

We sailed later that afternoon without having made the apology and I suppose had I just left the situation as it was nothing more would have been heard of the occurrence - apart that is from the mad ramblings of a miserable Admiral in some seedy bar in Sydney. But I took it upon myself to show my disdain for his rude and obnoxious letter. I steamed close to his vessel as we left and with the volume turned full on I played Rule Britannia over the loud hailer system. Worked a treat and had all the islanders lined up with smiles on their faces. I am sure though that the stuffy Rear Admiral did not crack any lines on his grumpy face - in fact he sent a strong letter of complaint, resplendent with hundreds of official seals and stamps to my boss in Head Office back in London.

I suppose I should never have got so carried away but even after the reprimand that I received I have no regrets.

Stuffy Old Guy!