yup. what a great read!
I was on the receiving end of revenge from a deranged vessel/galley assistant named “Richard”. Undeserved revenge I will say.
Richard was like 70, had been sailing forever but never upgraded past os/wiper and food handler. He supposedly sailed like 11 months out of the year and his month off he rented some flophouse room in San Fran’s tenderloin district. He also reportedly never left the ship, and collected fridge magnets, but would give other crew going ashore a few bucks to get them.
Richard guarded the self bus line in the galley. You’d put plates and bowls in one tray, then forks and such in another, cups and glasses in another…
I was a cadet aboard but spent most of my day with the deck gang so I was thick as thieves with a dude named Delroy, I think he was from Jamaica or something. One day, I was behind Delroy in the bus line, he deliberately put his fork and knife in the plates tray. Just then Richard turned his head and saw me standing in front of it. He turned bright red, and began to shout… Richard had a weird NYC/New England/marble mouth/lisp so his high pitch caterwauling drew attention rapidly, I say “don’t worry Richard, no big deal” and pick up the silverware and relocate it to its proper respite.
I thought nothing else of it.
Til we were northbound in the Suez, early a.m., and I wake up gagging from a strong flowery chemical smell. Somehow, floor stripper had been dumped under my cabin door, even thought there was like a two inch raised portion in the door frame at the bottom.
Coincidentally Richard had been stripping the deck the night previously. I opened my portal, causing the whole house to decompress (and all the AC came venting rapidly into my cabin it seemed) it made this horrible whooshing sound for the 15 minutes it took to get the cabin habitable.
Immediately I wanted to seek revenge. But I thought better.
Next port visit I bought like 10 fridge magnets, which wasn’t easy, but apparently besides spices and replica scimitars they’re a cottage industry everywhere, including in Agadir, Morrocco.
I gave him the magnets. I figure it was easier than worrying about being poisoned by a guy with access to cleaning chemicals AND the galley.
No revenge but Sailor’s Society is 200 years old this year and has published a book with 200 Sea stories:
Any Beatles fans here??