Shave Their Bellies With a Rusty Razor?*
It’s not August, but that doesn’t mean that it’s safe to go in the water in Russia:
The drunken sailors who accidentally rammed a nuclear submarine in a fishing trawler off the coast of Kamchatka last week tried to flee the scene, Navy officials said Monday, RIA-Novosti reported.
The Donets glanced the stern of the Svyatoi Georgy Pobedonosets, or “St. George,” which was moored and above water, after the submarine’s crew tried unsuccessfully to contact the trawler via radio and alert its crew with red flares.
After the collision, which lightly damaged both ships, the Donets’ crew allegedly turned off the ship’s navigation lights and increased its speed in an attempt to flee the scene. The getaway ended after the Navy’s local command ordered all ships in the area to halt and drop anchor.
The submariners were prepared to open fire during the crash but opted not to, the report said, without elaborating.
Investigators who boarded the trawler the same morning discovered traces of the submarine’s plating and determined that the fishermen — and their captain in particular — were drunk.
Drunken sailors? Really? This stuff virtually writes itself: what could it be possible to add? Other than: is there anyone in Russian transport who is not drunk?
Well, there is this little bit, just to assure that all is well:
The ship’s papers, however, were in order.
Well, thank God for that! I was worried there for a minute.
* A reference to the sea shanty “What do you do with a drunken sailor?” I actually hate–hate–that song. At Navy, during plebe summer, whenever marching in formation in the yard–which is a lot of the time–each company must sing. Some of the common songs are absurd and actually kind of entertaining. But the Drunken Sailor one was just like finger nails on a blackboard. Unfortunately, one of my classmates–whom I shall not name–would always start with this song when it was his turn. Usually there would be a chorus of groans from the rest of the 34th Company plebes, but he would plow ahead anyways, and choose that tune day after day.
I know a version of that song which is highly entertaining. I used to sing it at the Hash House Harriers meets. 🙂
Comment by Tim Newman — September 26, 2011 @ 11:58 pm
@Tim–so, you’re just going to tease us, and not share the entertaining lyrics with us? Believe me, I know the tune. Boy do I know the tune. Some new words would be nice.
Are these drunken sailors connected in any way with the ones spending in DC?
Comment by pahoben — September 27, 2011 @ 3:01 pm
Okay, you asked…
What shall we do with a drunken sailor? (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Run like Fuck to the nearest boozer (x3)
Earlie in the morning
What shall we do when we get to the boozer? (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Drink like Fuck til the boozer closes (x3)
Earlie in the morning
What shall we do when the boozer closes? (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Run like Fuck to the nearest whorehouse (x3)
Earlie in the morning
What shall we do when we get to the whorehouse? (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Hooray, and UP she rises (x3)
Earlie in the morning
What shall we do nine months later? (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Run like Fuck to the nearest boozer (x3)
Earlie in the morning
Comment by Tim Newman — September 27, 2011 @ 3:48 pm
@Tim–much more entertaining! Glad I asked. Somehow, though, I don’t think that the stuck-up-sticky-bits at Navy would have gone for that. In public, anyways. I remember our upperclassmen getting in trouble for having us do the “Groucho March” where we did a Groucho Marx-esque walk, complete with swiveling head and pretended cigars in our fingers.
@pahoben–these are literal drunken sailors, not metaphorical ones. Taking everything into consideration, the literal ones are much preferable–and less dangerous to our economy and our liberties–than the figurative ones.