Full Service (BALZ)

[Brag]

Finished shaving, Captain Hawkins, master of the 6,000 ton freighter Adelaide Star left his sea cabin and climbed into the wheelhouse. No one noticed his arrival. Good. He liked to observe his crew when they were not aware of his presence. The third mate was on watch. Evans, the first mate was also up, leaning over a chart. Damn good officer, Hawkins thought, deserves to have his own command. After this voyage, he would recommend him to the owners. The sea was calm, haze reduced visibility to three miles. “Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Morning, Captain,” Evans responded and placed the dividers on top of the chart. “Got a decent four star fix. We should sight buoy number one in eighteen minutes.”
Hawkins nodded. He was pleased to see that Evans had posted lookouts on each wing. The approaches to Basra were a challenge to the best navigators.
“Traffic three points off the starboard bow,”
Hawkins went to the starboard wing. “This is new,” he said while inspecting the motorized dhow with a large sign on its side. The sign said PILOTZ.
“Reduce speed to four knots,” Hawkins said.
The third mate rang the engine telegraph and yelled into the speaking tube. “This is bridge, give us turns for four knots.”
Evans came out on the wing. “Nice of them to come out this far.”
“Was there anything on this in the Notices to Mariners?”
“No, Sir. Nothing new. Just: Take on pilot at buoy number one.”
The dhow changed course and paralleled the course of the Adelaide Star.
“They have crumpet on board,” The lookout said.
Hawkins directed his glasses back to the approaching Dhow. Two women in belly dancer dress held up a sign” WELKOM.
“Somebody needs spelling lessons,” Hawkins growled.
With fenders deployed on its side the dhow pressed against the Adelaide Star. Two deck hands lowered the Jacobs ladder. A man in Arab dress and odd headgear climbed aboard.
“Since when are they using Wog pilots?” Evans asked.
“In the Times I picked up in Alexandria it said something about the natives being restless. Maybe they’ve made some concessions. Arabs are the oldest navigators.
“Gutt mornickz, gentlemen.”
Hawkin’s turned, jaw sagged at the sight of the pilot. He wore a chicken tea cozy, bunny slippers, and a smoking jacket with medals over a dish dash. “You are not the pilot, I presume.”
“I am der grosser great hoochie woochie show director.” The new arrival gestured toward the foredeck, where twenty belly dancers got on board, gyrated and twirled.
“Get those people off my ship,” Outraged, Captain Hawkins shouted.
“This gets better,” the peculiar man said.
Hawkins leaned over the rail, not believing his eyes. Forty Arabs had joined the belly dancers, twirled and sang waving scimitars.
An urchin carrying a bundle of kindling entered the wheelhouse and placed the firewood on the deck.
“What is he doing?” Hawkins shouted.
“He will make coffee.”
“Wha, wha, wha, what?” Hawkins stammered.
“Observe,” Tea Cozy said, again pointing at the foredeck. Seven old men lined up holding a potato in one hand and a knife in the other. “Our full service includes The Seven Peelers of Wisdom.”
Thinking he might go apoplectic, Hawkins closed his eyes, took three deep breaths and counted to ten.
When he opened his eyes, the weird man was still there and the urchin produced a Turkish coffee pot and was starting a fire.
Tea Cozy smiled, took out a revolver and said, “Allow me to introduze myself. I am Balz, the great scourge of the sea. Prepare yourself to be reliefed of your goodies.”
Indignation made Hawkins feel his blood vessels were going to pop.
“Now the choir will perform the Balz the Great Balz hoochie woochie.” Revolver in hand, Balz directed the choir.
“Get orrff my frocking ship!”
The choir finished the song with a roaring “Viva Balz.”
Smoke filled the wheelhouse as the urchin made coffee.
“With your permission, for our next number, we shall proceed to loot your Shiff.”
Balz extended his hand, palm up. “The keys to the safe, please.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No, I am Balz.”
“Keys please. Or, you will feature in our captain walks the plank performing hoochie-woochie.” Balz smiled. “We are full service pirates. We even have a plank. Isn’t that impressive? Do you hold a feeling of admiration for me?”
“I hold you responsible for this outrage.”
Balz rang Finished with Engines on the telegraph. The roar of escaping steam made Hawkins see red. He jumped for Balz, tripped over the kneeling urchin, fell on the fire and upset the coffee pot.



Next week: Where is the Gold?

[sunvalleyslim]

I'm thinking Balz taught the Somali Pirates everything they needed to know.........except I never see them with their tea cozys, bunny slippers, or smoking jackets on.....Just maybe he didn't tell them everything.....

[Jimbuna]

“Our full service includes The Seven Peelers of Wisdom.”

[coronas]

Good service!

[U-46 Commander]

“Are you crazy?”
“No, I am Balz.”

Truer words have never been said.

[Brag]

Originally Posted by jimbuna

“Our full service includes The Seven Peelers of Wisdom.”

Very hoochie woochie, Jimbuna