Aboard the HMS Belfast.
My sister Lannie, PEI, toured a Spanish ship recently and her happy experience reminded me of the lovely time I spent aboard the HMS Belfast (a ship w WW2 duty stamped on its resume) while wandering about London, England two years ago.
I paid several Great Britain Pounds for the privilege so I made the most of it. I poked my nose around every corner and chatted up half the crew. Most appreciated a bit of attention while performing menial tasks but I may have offered advice once too often in the galley.
"Are those cod or haddock fillets?" I asked a chef's aide.
"These are halibut, me boy," he said. "Now, stand well back, mind ye, 'cause of the deep fat fryers."
The chef cooks at 425 degrees. The oil "rests 'til Tea Time" at 250 degrees
"Too bloody many," said the cook. "I can't eat them anymore meself."
"Try adding corn," I say
"That's too bad," I said. "My mom used to add corn or blue berries to make them go down easier. Try that."
"Oh, fer certain, I'll do that," he said. "You'd better back up now. These pans are bloody hot."
(And they really were. I don't know how the poor boy could survive down there.)
"Watch behind ye," said a young man. "Make room. Hot fillets!"
While I was busy tidying jars of spice on an overhead rack, R. Simmonds snuck up from behind and scared the life right out of me. The noise and heat became too much for me so I headed toward the upper deck, the fresh air and views of London Bridge.
Try the tour yourself next time in Old Londontown. Well worth it, in spite of the tight quarters down below.
Nice little bridge, I say. Is there a tour?
Photos by GH