I met a sweet old man some time ago that was relating a few stories from his youth. He went on about how he had fallen off the lower yard & was lying spread eagle in a state of semi consciousness & unable to move but aware of what was happening around him. The mate was pointing out to the others standing about how it was uncanny that he had seen someone else fall from the same yard & landed exactly in the same manner. He refered to the mate as a good mate & I asked if he was good why wasn't he helping you instead of discussing your landing. A mean mate would've kicked me until I got up. He then talked about his first mate, who was mean, as a cabin boy & he was caught playing hide & seek on deck forward of the fore mast, officer's territory, the mate caught him hiding & drove his heel into his forehead with all he had. This left the boy reeling for a week & he claimed never to have been right after. But I still had respect for the man, I'm on my way home to England, the 1st time in decades & when I get there I'm gonna pay his gravesite a visit & speak a few words about this mate & get a real good bottle of rum & pour it over him & he stopped the story short & I'm thinking what sort of sailor ritual is this I'm hearing that I've never heard before, he then went on to say he wouldn't pour the rum until after he drank it first. This may be one of those "You had to be there" things. Barry