Once Upon the Brine

Life at Sea and Ashore in the
Canadian Navy during the Cold War
(1946-1989)

    William Hawke                                         

Back in the summer of 1964, HMCS Swansea was halfway through a refit being conducted at Point Edward Naval Base near Sydney, Nova Scotia. The base was located about 10 miles from town on the other side of the natural harbour. The crew was housed in an old World War II-type barracks on the base and worked by day on the ship, which was berthed at the nearby jetty.

There wasn’t much to entertain the troops during the evenings or on weekends at Point Edward. Most fun was experienced in Sydney with its restaurants, single movie hall and Venetian Gardens – a dance hall that operated on Friday and Saturday nights. There were, however, three messes (Leading Seamen and below, Chiefs & Petty Officers and Wardroom) on the base where the crew could drink, and play darts and cards. There was also a gravel pit that was half full of water located across the road from the base. Some of the crew would go to the gravel pit in the evenings after supper to swim or to partake in impromptu drinking parties – the booze having been sold clandestinely from the back door of the lower ranks mess after tipping the bartender.

One evening, while sitting in the mess, Wayne Robertson, I and a couple of others decided to go for a skinny dip at the gravel pit. We took a case of 24 Olands (beer) along for après de swim.

After our swim we went up onto the bank, got dressed, lit a small bonfire and started into our case of beer. It was dark by this time so we didn’t notice a group of four Leading Seamen and four local girls approaching until they were right upon us. They were also armed with a case of beer and had a weenie roast on their minds. One of them was carrying a guitbox (guitar).

They asked if we minded if they joined us and use our fire. Of course we didn’t mind; as young Ordinary Seamen we considered it a privilege that these older Leading Seamen would even ask. Some of these guys were three badge hookies who had seen action in the Korean War. They were like demigods to us – role models that we wanted to be just like someday.

After they were all settled around the fire, the fellow with the guitar started playing some Hank Williams tunes mixed with a few raunchy ones such as “We’re off to see the Wild Beast Show,” and the song in which one of the verses starts with, “There once was a man from Nantucket.” Everybody sang along – great fun indeed.

Midway through the evening of singing and beer drinking, the senior hookie Leading Seaman Gulliver said, “Is anybody hungry,” as he pulled out the wieners. A guy with a knife went into the surrounding bush and came back with a bunch of thin sticks. He passed the sticks and knife around and everyone in turn sharpened a point on one end of their stick for ease of roasting. One can imagine how delighted we ordinary seamen were to be included.

My buddy Wayne was rather drunk by this time, having consumed about eight Olands. I had to help him sharpen his stick and skew his hotdog. He did manage to carry out the slow roasting on his own. When his hotdog was ready for eating he asked in a rather indignant manner, “Where’re the buns!?”

Leading Seaman Gulliver gave him a silent look that seemed to say: “Watch your manners OD,” and tossed him a slice of bread. ¹

Wayne looked at the slice of bread in disgust and exclaimed, “That’s not a hotdog bun,” and threw it into the raging bonfire!

Everyone in the group went silent anticipating the response of the highly respected Leading Seaman Gulliver, who just looked up and flatly said, “What’s the matter boy! Don’t cha like our buns?” He didn’t shout the words but they were deep-throated, bold and authoritative (hence the bold text).

Wayne almost pooped his drawers due to the stern words. He murmured, “Oh! That was the bun,” and tried to nullify the situation by lunging at the piece of bread in the bonfire with his right hand. He made several attempts before the bread was consumed by the flames. Then he turned towards Gulliver and sheepishly said: “Sorry Leading Seaman Gulliver. May I please have another hotdog bun?” Gulliver smiled and tossed him another. Everybody else laughed heartily except Wayne, who received second degree burns on his arm and hand.

The next day the doc nursed his wounds. The Cox’n considered laying a charge of self-inflicted wounds on him, but after hearing the story from Gulliver, he thought that Wayne had learned a good lesson relating to respect for seniors. No charges were laid. Wayne’s right arm still bears a scar from the burns.