Their blood ran cold with horror
As they gazed on the awful scene,
Their faces paled with anguish
And their gills turned faintly green.
For seldom has anyone suffered
as they did that horrible night,
Seldom before have humans
Beheld such a ghastly sight.
There on the ground before them,
The shattered remnants lay,
And a steady stream of crimson
Seeped into the thirsty clay.
And they stood in breathless silence,
As men who were stricken dumb,
For they'd just seen the duty Petty Officer
Break a jug of pusser rum.
A Sad Tale indeed, sent in by Gerry Sullivan, so thanks Gerry.
Shipmates:
Plucked the following yarn from Legion Magazine
January/February edition (Humour Hunt.)
Recall in July of 1950 when joining Ontario it was made "Very" clear that the rum jug was not, under any circumstances to be washed, washing it was considered a "Capital Offence."
We all recall what measures where taken for an extra Tot But,
seagull Doo-Doo?? Also a Hands Rum mug was never washed,
at least not in any mess I had the pleasure of living in.
Jerry S.
Finally, let's return to the continuing story of navy rum with a letter from Robert Golding of Toronto. In 1944 he was called up to serve in the British Royal Navy while "UA" (or under age). The 20-year-olds could be "G" (for grog) or "T" (for temperance) if they did not care for the stuff. The latter received 3d (or three pence) per day in lieu of their tot, one ounce of neat rum.
As a rule, our informant writes, rum was mixed with an ounce of water on destroyers and two on the bigger ships; on small vessels and submarines, the crews of close-knit buddies got "neaters."
As he shares his own experiences and recollections, Golding tends to confirm what we have already learned on this subject. Apparently the "T" boys, once they got to sea, invariably switched immediately to "G"; even if they had not developed a taste for rum they found that their messmates could be most appreciative of a little extra. This resulted in the "T" boys always being sure of getting a willing sub for shore leave.
What Golding found amusing was the rum kettle, the metal bucket which the mess rum boatswain took up to the quarterdeck for dishing out each day's ration. On Saturday mornings the "Old Man" did his rounds. All the dishes and pots had to shine, including the rum kettle. This, we are assured, was a crying shame because the longer your kettle could survive without being washed the better the rum.
Immediately following Captain's Rounds on Saturday morning came the order "Rum bo'suns muster for rum!"
It was always amazing to see how many of those highly shone rum kettles had suddenly become beautifully aged. Experienced officers-of-the-day turned a blind eye, knowing that particular messes prized an old sweat who personally owned a kettle handed down by other old sweats.
Occasionally a new junior officer would be assigned to oversee the rum issue--no doubt forewarned with advice from knowing fellow wardroom officers that he should look out for mucky looking kettles and refuse to fill them until properly cleaned. Of course, within a few minutes the bo'sun would reappear with a very brightly shining kettle. Never again would Junior notice that a kettle was not "as required by their Lordships."
Apparently there were sailors who constantly invented ways of getting an extra tot, not infrequently claiming to have fallen off the gangplank or down a ladder.
The best excuse Golding ever witnessed came in 1946 while serving on His Majesty's Ship Pelican, a Mediterranean Fleet sloop with Captain Goodenough in command. They were berthed alongside in Grand Harbour, Malta. Rum was being issued on the quarterdeck, each sailor stepping up with his mug or cup or glass into which his ounce of lovely bubbly was measured. On such a beautiful day, the sailors mingled and chatted while savouring their beloved nectar. On one occasion, an inventive mate had obtained a small bottle into which he had poured an ounce of red vinegar. After downing his daily ration of rum he emptied the vinegar into his glass, scooped up a goodly measure of seagull poo, slid it down his glass and went back to the rum tub to show the officer-of-the-day what a terrible thing had happened.
"Oh my poor man. Go get another glass."
Thanks, cheers, up spirits concludes our comrade or matelot.
You might find this interesting reading!!
It is now exactly forty years ago, on the 31st July 1970, that the British Royal Navy sailors had their last traditional tot of rum.
For hundreds of years, Royal Navy seamen queued up in galleys from the poles to the tropics to receive their regulation lunchtime tot of rum. But 40 years ago, the tradition was ended.
On 31 July 1970, known in the Royal Navy as 'Black Tot Day', the sun passed over the yardarm for the final time and free rum was retired from navy life.
Black arm-bands were worn as the Queen was toasted. Tots were buried at sea and in one navy training camp, sailors paraded a black coffin flanked by drummers and a piper.
"It was a sea change. It was one hell of a change," says Commander David Allsop, who enjoyed the tot as a junior rating after joining the navy in 1955.
Seamen drained their last ever tot of free navy rum on Black Tot Day
"It was badly received. There was a lot of muttering below the decks."
The Admiralty took away the tot because they were concerned that a lunchtime slug of rum would hinder sailors' ability to operate increasingly complex weapons systems and navigational tools.
But by 1970 the rum bosun's daily doling out of an eighth of a pint (70ml) of rum at midday - diluted with water for junior ratings, neat for senior - was a reasonably gentlemanly affair.
"In my era it was a social occasion," says Commander Allsop. "You paid for favours quietly, you had friends come round to share the tot."
"It was just the same as going to the bar and having a pre-lunch drink. That's all it was, at the end of the day, a strong aperitif."
On the lash.
Sailors from the early 18th Century might have scoffed at the innocence of the 1970s tot.
Beer had been the staple beverage of the Royal Navy until the 17th Century, used as a self-preserving replacement for water, which became undrinkable when kept in casks for long periods.
But as the horizons of the British Empire expanded, the sheer bulk of beer - the ration for which was a gallon (eight pints or 4.5 litres) per day per seaman - and its liability to go sour in warmer climates, made it impractical to take on long voyages.
Wine and spirits started to take its place and when in 1655 the British captured Jamaica from Spain, the navy was introduced to rum.
Staggeringly, until 1740 the daily ration was half a pint of neat rum, twice a day, at a time before there were accurate methods for measuring the alcoholic content.
Sailors would check their rum had not been watered down by pouring it onto gunpowder and setting light to it, from where the term "proof" originates.
By volume, 57.15% alcohol has been calculated as the minimum required for it to pass the test.
Even keel
The onboard problems caused by a massive intake of incredibly strong rum had to be remedied, and in 1740 Admiral Edward Vernon, known as Old Grogram, from his preference for cloaks made from a fabric of the same name, issued his notorious order.
"The pernicious custom of the seamen drinking their allowance of rum in drams and often at once is attended with many fatal consequences to their morals as well as their health," it states.
"Many of their lives shortened thereby... besides stupefying their rational qualities which makes them heedlessly slaves to every brutish passion."
Sailors are often associated with a large intake of alcohol
Rum was henceforth mixed with water, at first at a ratio of a quart (two pints or 1.1 litres) of water to each half pint ration, and "grog" was invented.
It is not surprising that seamen through the ages had grown attached to their rum ration, even though the punishment for drunkenness until the late 19th Century was a public flogging, says naval historian Dr Pieter van der Merwe.
"They lived in conditions that nowadays would be considered intolerable," he says. "It was the one thing that made life bearable.
"You cannot imagine how tough these people were. Seamen were a race apart. They walked differently, they talked differently, they dressed differently. They were built like oxen.
"They could take punishment, and they expected it. They knew if they got drunk they would be flogged, and they still got drunk."
It would be wrong, however, to draw conclusions about naval sea worthiness from the fact that for hundreds of years, navy sailors imbibed a huge daily dose of rum.
"You mustn't imagine that naval ships were sailed by crews of drunken sailors," says Dr van der Merwe, general editor at the National Maritime Museum.
"Everybody drowns if sailors are drunk all the time."
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RUM DICTIONARY
Nelson's Blood - Slang name for rum, erroneously based on the story that Nelson was preserved in rum after being killed at Trafalgar. He was actually preserved in brandy
(Tot = Name for the navy alcohol ration)
Grog - Mixture of rum and water, introduced to the Navy in 1740
Splicing the mainbrace - The awarding of an additional drink on a special occasion
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