Sent in by Peter davies - Ex Radio officer davies@devinchies99.freeserve.co.uk
Quo Vadis ... where do you want to go??!!
Astern.....Previous sea story
A very true tale.
The vessel was alongside at an oil port in the Perishing gulf. We were due to start loading. When replacement staff arrived on board -- much to the relief of those wanting to get the steam chicken home. It was as hot as hell and yes, the air conditioning had packed up. A new bod with a suitcase stopped at the entrance to my cabin and asked where the mates cabin was. He said he was the new mate.
Just as he said that the old mate came up to him and said - 2 mates has all the info, I've got to go -- everythings fine. The agents waiting with the minibus and so he disapeared down in the lift. That was the last we saw of him. The new mate, still standing there, asking what the crew and ship were like. When he was verbaly attacked by the jetty safety officers. They said that they were emposing a fine on the mate and the vessel for having the bow fire wire, too far out of the water. The mate sat on his cases in disbelief and told me his other case had been lost by the airline ''.It was an obvious case for a cool tennants.
Having sorted out and parted with the money, the mate carried on with the loading. The following morning a greeko berthed with its stern to ours. The temperature was 125 on deck. A meeting was held with the mates and engineers that were off duty. They were advised by tanoy to don all fire and emergency gear,duffle coats and helmets and collect lunch and a few bears. For devouring on the poop deck. The group gathered on the poop deck and commenced eating. The greeks on the aft end of there ship called the rest of there bunch to come and view the crazy englishmen.With the greeks jumping up and down and us sitting in full gear --- the mate rounded the corner and assumed he was'nt right in the head or he had joined a madhouse. The sweat was pouring off us.
The vessel sailed with Landsend for orders -- the voyage seemed to go much to plan. We arived at the discharge port in Europe, the pipes were coupled up from shorside and the vessels pumps started. After six hours of pumping, the refinery manager arrived at the jetty on his bike. He had a word with the jetty man and told him to go aboard. The jettyman came aboard and as advised, told the mate that the vessel could start pumping now '''. The mate did the 360deg bit and threw in a cartwheel or two. What the hell ''.
We've been pumping for six hours '''. A quick calculation assured him that a few thousand tonns of oil product must have gone ashore --or had it ''. Panic spread -- all mates and deck cadets on deck now. By this time the mate was apoplectic and had grown three heads. Each one having a vision of a cool tennants. All tanks were dipped to ensure that the vessel had not been recirculating the oil product round and round the ships tank system. After 30mins the mates voice rang out -- No, were ok ,the oil has been pumped ashore.
-- but where has it gone ?. It was'nt in the shore tank ''. Officials from the refinery now began to arrive. The pumps were shut down. A detailed inspection was made of all pipelines and valves. So who was it that connected up the wrong shore line ?.
The oil was now sitting in the wrong shore tank and had contaminated some 30,000 tonns of a different product. Suitable fines were duly logged against the ship and mate. The vessel sailed on the the next port.
Three more ports went like clockwork. On entering these ports the mate had made the curious observation of
noting how many rabbits there were along the banks as we entered. I noted this in the grey matter. We arrived at the next UK port and the mate was carrying out the cargo watch in the control room. When an extremely curvacious girl came wondering aboard with acouple of bags. 
She asked where the Captains cabin was. We discovered she was the old mans daughter. Worth investigating I thought ''. I duly knocked on the old mans door and introduced myself. Then old man saw the move and said take care of my daughters carrier bag . I dutyfully did so and took it to the office. Low and behold -- what was inside -- his daughter had just purchased a large fat white rabbit. No Problem here I thought''. Down to the control room and hid in the adjacent locker. The mate left the control room and yes, in went the rabbit. The mate returned and came out on deck exclaiming -- theres a rabbit in the control room''. By this time I had nipped back in and retrieved the rabbit. I ran
back up to the old mans office just as his daughter was leaving -- so I gave her her bag back and then said to the old man -- whatever you do, do'nt mention rabbits to the mate, he's a bit fuuny about them. All that day we heard nothing but the mates sighting of a rabbit in the control room -- we humoured him of course. We sailed ooooooon. No reference was ever made about rabbits again.
The next port was a discharge port. Yes, we left with one full tank of fuel oil -- It should have been discharged. Still, full ahead and onwards..........
The amazing think was -- On all occasions it really was'nt the mates fault.
The fire wire was the duty of the mate leaving.
The wrong discharge line was the fault of a jetty man.
The tank full of oil was the result of refinery figures up the shoot.
The rabbit -- well '''.
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