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| CANADA'S SOURCE FOR HUMOUR, PARODY, AND SATIRE
If I recall correctly, it was late March in the summer of 1936, and the officers and crew of the Salted Spur were celebrating the success of our maiden voyage. We had just sailed the merchant frigate into Calcutta, packed to the ham holds with dried beef, to sell in the streets and markets of the British-ruled India. The Spur had fared fine on her first run. Oh, but it wasn't completely smooth sailing. We had had a little trouble with a great blue squid, what some just think a beast of myth and legend, about two weeks out of Algiers. The silly sucker thought our span tiller was its mate, and tried to make sweet squidly love to our vessel. Were it not for the quick thinking of the halyard mates and their deft use of those whaling rods, we could have easily kissed Nelson's bride and found ourselves sorting clams on the bottom of the briny deep. We feasted on squid meat for a week after that, and although a little too chewy for my tastes, the savoury smells were enough to remind us of our victory over one of Poseidon's pests. Some of the crew were a little shaken by the adventure, but we kept them busy tying teak knots and sharpening herring lances. Calcutta was a welcome port when we arrived. Though it struck me kinda funny that these Indians would even let themselves be ruled by the Brits. From what I recall, there were at least 10 million of them; surely enough to overthrough the Imperialist tea tottlers who governed them. Well, we
weren't there to influence politics. We had 80 tonnes of Indian mustard
tea to load and store for the long sail to Cairo.
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Sea Tales from Old Pete
