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 sarcastic gets to the bottom with...

Jack 'Titanic' Hawser 112 YEARS AT SEA - A BOOK THAT TIME AND TIME AGAIN HAS KICKED A SURPRISED WORLD OF AUTHORS IN THE ASS

In world literature through all times and in film after another, the life of sailors gets romanticised, lacking every sense of moderation. Even poetry, which we thought was free from lies and empty phrases, is crammed with the rot that off-shore life would be something completely wonderful.   With our annoyed and increasing native suspiciousness against everything written, sung, said, shown, demonstrated for, broadcast on radio, televised, released on video and printed on T-shirts, we soon began to understand that this tainted topic needed to be dragged under the loupe with haste.   If Coleridge had known what we know, he would have known that he should have known better. Who knows? Well, we have asked one who does know, namely Jack 'Titanic' Hawser, author of the book 112 Years at sea, an ex-sailor who once had his cap jauntily askew. Now it has fallen off.

- Do you love the sea and the waves?, we asked him. - Knock it off! he shouted while doubling us up with laughter as he tore off a rapid (did he say Irish?) sailor's polka on the bar.

- Oh blast!, my form's not like in younger days, he said apologetically, and screwed his wooden leg back on. - Let go, everyone, the party continues up in those two landlubbers' place, he shouted, apparently meaning us. Our protests were drowned by cheers. A moment later the bar was desolate.   Imitating a fog-horn he led the animated and aled up bunch towards our editorial office. When we came there Jack was in the vanguard of a binge, nay, an authentic enough naval battle…

That's how we first got in touch with him. Do you also want to hear salty stories about sea-life and sailors? Well, 'Titanic' can be all yours! Whenever and for as long as you like. He is ready for anything, odd things too! - Well, if everyone's game for it…I'll give'm some strong breeze at home, he goes howling, the old sea-goat.

"We put out to sea with the brig Sieve from Hull on a calm, sunny summer day in 1893, heading for Rangoon via Suez, loaded with sauna heaters. After half a day's sail the crew boarded onto the ship. It was Bellman, a Norseman and a German. And it was One-Eyed Dope, Kaj Schuul (the Dane), Tony Mescal, Jack Daniels, the singer Kari Oki, Long John Silver who lacked one leg, Ling Wi Shtic from Shanghai lacking tonsils, Joe Hill lacking steady income, Captain Blowhole lacking table manners, Captain Garfield who didn't have a steady girlfriend, Dr Johnson and, in a wheelbarrow, steersman Billy 'Shit Happens' Upstream lacking arms, legs and sense of humour. And it was me.   After ten days with neither food nor water, steersman Upstream was the only one still doing his job. Lashed as he was to the rudder he steered the ship by bending his back here and there, shouting at sharks and swordtails.   Suddenly, the whole lot went down and I had to swim halfway around the world before I found a free island where I could stumble ashore. I had just munched away the last bit of my leg when a huge delicatessen counter came floating ashore. I grabbed a chorizo in each paw and paddled homeward again.

He has as many stories like this as you like to read from his book, and he would be much obliged if asked to do it in your lounge suite at home. All you have to do is cutting out the coupon below and send it to us, and he will drop by tonight about 8!

sarcastic