A little something I wrote for swapping with another guy. Thought maybe it could go here too.
(FYI - a Stateroom is an officer's berth onboard ship)
A proper sea story starts with, "Now this ain't no *expletive deleted*it!"
Robbie was a Second Class Machinist's Mate with two black panthers clawing their bloody way up his back. Probably got them in Hong Kong. At 28 he had already spent a few years on the gunline off of Vietnam and when he told me stories about it his eyes would get big and wide and you could see that far away look on his face. He said the gunline was OK when we were doing all the shooting but when they started shooting back the gunline wasn't so great anymore. When we were inport Robbie's liberty routine was to head to the EM club, drink 3 double Old Grandad and cokes and stumble back off to the ship before he passed out.
At one time he had found this little void up above the reefer boxes just big enough for a man to stretch out comfortably. A few blankets and some pillows and he had this lovely hideout that we all called "Robbie's Stateroom". When you were a new guy it was a big secret as to where it was until you had been there a while and became trusted. Whenever he wanted to duck out he'd tell one of us, "I'll be in my stateroom." and we knew to go get him if anybody was looking for him. Nobody else EVER went into Robbie's space, that was the rule. After he left it was passed down the line to the next guy who had been in our section longest until one day it was mine. To me it always stayed "Robbie's Stateroom" though. I passed it along to the next guy. I wonder how long it stayed "Robbie's" after that.
