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30 Jun 99 - 10:03 AM (#91002) Subject: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: WyoWoman The Mudcat Build A Story Kit continues: "Tramp steamer" was almost too elegant a designation for the dilapidated ship ploughing its way toward Indonesia. The handful of passengers who had had the poor fortune of booking passage on this unlikely ocean-going shoebox were now repenting the lack of wisdom, or the oppressive poverty that had led them to such a choice. The year was 1956 and the tiny knot of passengers had taken refuge in their individual cabins -- if such an elegant word could be pinned on the tiny compartments in which the unfortunate passengers huddled. The steamer had earned its name, .... |
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30 Jun 99 - 10:07 AM (#91004) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: WyoWoman OK, ok. I see you fellows already started it. The S.S. Possum -- perfect. Now, how do I remove this thread so we dont get all tangled up? KC |
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30 Jun 99 - 10:22 AM (#91012) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: Roger the zimmer just ask Cap'n Bob to beach your thread on a Sandy E-Bay in Annapolia (it can become a Thieme Park(es)) and let Big Mick recruit the crew into the Seamen's Union and take them out for a paying off meal at the Big RiB... |
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30 Jun 99 - 11:56 PM (#91234) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: WyoWoman Aye-Aye, Sir. |
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01 Jul 99 - 12:36 AM (#91243) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: katlaughing KC, I liked your start. I think there could be two different threads/stories a'sea! |
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01 Jul 99 - 01:28 AM (#91251) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: Lonesome EJ Kinda like ships passing in the night... The ship had earned it's name, Shanghai Ghost as an opium smuggler in the 20s. She had made the passage from Shanghai to San Francisco numerous times, her midway stop the port of Honolulu. In Honolulu, most of the opium was off-loaded by dark of night under the watchful eye of a very corrupt harbor-master. From Honolulu, the contraband traveled by various sources to cities along the coast of California, while The Shanghai Ghost completed her voyage in the guise of a rusty but respectable mail packet, hauling the Island's mail to the mainland. Her smuggling days had come to a fittingly inglorious, although quite mysterious, end. She was found abandoned in the shipping lane 800 miles west of Hawaii, her hold ripped open and pilfered. Her master and owner, John Debs Tyler, was found in the bridge with a long and fatal incision in his throat. Most who knew him agreed that his end was a classic case of the various and sundry wicked pigeons he had nurtured coming home to roost. The ship was sold as salvage in Los Angeles, repainted and overhauled, and in the year of 1933 put to sea as a light-cargo hauler and passenger ship re-christened The Eastern Sun . But the name never stuck, although tales of the malevolent influence of John Debs Tyler did. He was said to haunt the bridge and Captain's Cabin, and could sometimes be seen by the stern rail smoking a clay pipe, most often in the quiet latitudes where he had met his death. The ship had eventually rusted back to a faithful replica of it's smuggling days, and the ownership passed to one Owen Pedersen, who had been an acquaintance of Tyler's. His sole contribution to the restoration and upkeep of the steamer was to take 5 gallons of black paint, and emblazon The Shanghai Ghost on her stern. She even resumed the old San Francisco/Shanghai Route, creaking and plunging through the Pacific night with her load of passengers, cargo, and ghosts. |
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01 Jul 99 - 12:26 PM (#91391) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: Steve Parkes This is a much nicer thread than the Possum one - I think I'm gonna jump ship when (if?) we get to Jakarta! Ishmael |
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01 Jul 99 - 05:15 PM (#91455) Subject: RE: An Ocean-going Tale -- Very BS From: LEJ " Course Shanghai is just the end of the run. " Captain Johncocks smiled as he poured black coffee into his cracked mug, he nodded to me, indicating the pot. Mr. Theodore Riley smiled and shook his head."No, I've had quite enough." Johncox laughed and said "well, one cup's more'n enough for most people. Tastes kinda like crankcase oil most folks sez. I can't even taste it meself, but I do like it hot. And I'll need it to keep awake tonight, beins there's weather comin in." Mr Riley grimaced momentarily. This was his first voyage, and the fact that the old steamer had even gotten them to mid-Pacific was astonishing to him. He felt that there was almost no chance that she could survive a gale. The Captain seemed to read his thoughts." Don't ye worry bout this ship. She's seen far worse'n this'll be." He fished the butt of a cigar out of his pants pocket, lighting it with a battered Zippo."Like I was sayin, our main stops nowadays are Jakarta, Bali, Saigon. That's where the bulk o' the cargo unloads and all the passengers. Shanghai gets the dregs o' the cargo, but that's where Owen gets the bulk o' the profits. Don't even bother askin cause I don't know what's in them crates. Don't wanna know neither." The Shanghai Ghost gave a sudden lurch as the bow dropped off the crest of a steep wave, then bashed into the trough. Whitewater covered the starboard portholes for nearly 10 seconds, and Riley felt a moment of terror thinking the entire ship had submerged.The Captain opened a locker and produced a quart of dark rum, pouring a good portion into Riley's coffee cup." Make ye feel better," smiled Johncox. Riley gulped the rum and took a deep breath." You know Captain, there've been a lot of stories. Can you tell me..." At that moment a large iron skillet seemed to jump from the cabin wall, landing at the startled passenger's feet. Johncox grinned and drew on the cigar butt."Sure" he said, the word hanging between them in the cigar smoke,"I'll tell ye bout the Ghost." |