So what is your best sea story? The one you are reluctabt to tell because you’re pretty sure no one will believe. The only rule here is it has to be true. That said no one is obligated to bleieve you 
I’ll start… once, off the coast of an island once Infamous for its population of human headhunters, the richest man in the world pointed the largest gun he owned directly at me and threatened to shoot.
You’re turn 
First question on any report form now a day:
Was Alcohol involved?
Gonna start this off properly here: “Now this ain’t no shit…”
So back story, MSC contracted tanker on the fuel run to top up McMurdo before the winter-over, couldn’t get in to the ice pier there, so the NSF guys said the hell with it and grabbed all the fuel hose from the tank farm to the airfield and ran it to where we were… two miles away. So we successfully got the cargo pumped off and there was much rejoicing since they actually thought they were going to have to shut down most of the operations for the winter if we didn’t pull it off.
NSF and Raytheon throw a HUUUUUGE party to celebrate, sea draws are thrown into the kitty to make it even huger, and this one third mate after much celebrating, looks at his watch and considers that he’s gotta get some rest… so what do I, I mean, what does he do? Proceeds to start walking two miles back to the ship… in a white out… in Antarctica.
Probably would have been one heck of a letter the Captain would have had to write to my family, had I not been following the hoses back, but like all good sea stories, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
BTW you had me at “shit”.
I guess I forgot the backstory to mine Our rig was sent to Bornea to drill under a lease shell bought from Malaysia… right on the border of Brunei. The sultan sent some emmisarries but we refused to board them. Then he seemed to settle down once we started to drill… that is untill the crew of directional drillers showed up. That pissed the sultan off and he dispatched his largest warship (about the size of a small uscg cutter) to sit off our bow with their deck gun pointed to us. This lasted about two weeks.
The story itself isn’t my beat but I get a lot of requesta for gcaptain to fund or invest in or promote other companies and I always say it’s my policy to say no and I am a
Stuborn bastard… which pissses some people off and, about once a year some jerk will make the remarke “you’d do that if a gun was pointed at you”.
To which I respond “No, I once had a 3 inch gun pointed at me and it didn’t make me change my mind”.
The response is always something along the line of “3 inches!? That ain’t a very big gun.”
To which I reply “3 inches was the bore size asshole”
Enter look of bewilderment 
Working for Shell in Brunei,
We were the largest anchor handler and the default Rapid Intervention Vessel as we had Class 1 FiFi.
The gentleman John refers to has a no flaring policy for the excess gas produced from the wells, this to show to his citizens, that despite his profligate wealth, he was wisely managing rhe nations resource.
All was well till the inter monsoon season when the wind dropped to zero.
During the day monsterous cu nims towered, you could see them visibly boiling.
They grew and joined up into a super cell…
The rain and some hail plummeted down at 2000 give or take, vis dropped to zero.
Then the lightning started, low rumbles at first, then the show took off.
A huge flash then a massive shock wave and a fireball the size of a small nuke…
The gas had accumulated near the surface from a couple of wells and bang!
We got sent over to hit out the flare,
After that Shell got some flare booms.
How the Sultan handled it yet to know…
Brunei story 2
In Bandar Seri Begawan the Sultan has hispalace, it has garaging for, it is said, 600 cars.
Whilststaying in the hotel joing & leaving would occasionally here the police alarms.
Asked why?
His exellency is on a road trip.
So a lurid green Lambo would tear around the streets for an hour than peace would return.
Speaking of having guns pointed… Persian Gulf, MSC survey ship, about 0130, black moonless night, in the vicinity of oil wells off the Iranian coast, moseying along at 6 knots. Nothing on radar but the wells. A blindingly bright light suddenly floods the overhead on the bridge and the 3 of us (mate, AB and OS) jump. The light is coming from about 20 feet alongside to starboard but it’s too blinding to see much else. I run down to the main deck where I confront 3 middle eastern types in American style casual clothes ridding along in a big center console sports fishing boat. I wave and tell the one holding the spotlight to put it down. He yells at me in Arabic as he bends down with the spotlight. When he pops back up, he’s pointing an AK-47 at my face with his finger on the trigger.
No need for a BNWAS when you have an AK-47 keeping you awake 