The life preserver

With the wench stowed, the mates mooted that shore leave was assuredly in order. A plan was thus formed to fetch back up at Doncaster and join the locals in celebrating the siege of Gibraltar.

With course set and headway good, the order was given to splice the mainbrace. The gunwales, hitherto stuffed with Caribbean firewater, were stripped bare by the grog-lusty crew, and the liquor went down faster than a torpedoed canoe.

Of the resultant ballyhoo the ship’s log says little – the sun was over the yardarm before the crew stirred, each suffering no small degree of alcohol poisoning, and, in the case of the bunting tosser, a broken nose. From what we could ascertain, his senses had been somewhat stirred by Ms Doe’s perfumed business card. His impromptu visit to her quarters, meanwhile, had correspondingly stirred her splendid right hook.

Having reached our port of call, we left her to her nosegays, knick-knacks and knuckledusters and took the misshapen lad to the infirmary, where, through clouds of tobacco smoke, the medic reluctantly viewed the aforementioned injury. He concurred – it was indeed a bloody mess – and retired to his desk for a tug on his flask and some shut-eye.


Resident Medical Officer
Ol' Dirty Kevin
Likes: high rollin'
Dislikes: fish