Poem by an unknown author.
You soothed my nerves, and warmed my limbs, and you cheered my dismal heart.
Procured my wants and obliged my whims, and now its time to part.
Mid endless perils of the deep, and miseries untold.
You summoned sweet forgetful sleep,cocooned me from the cold.
Ten years ago the pound o’leaf, that cast its fragrant spell.
About the ship expired in grief, and sadness of farewell.
Though guest might find the party bare, when’ere they chose to come.
Your hospitality was there, a tot of pusser rum.
Two hundred years ago and more you filled this storm tossed sailors need.
Now you’ve been killed by spite distilled, from jealousy and greed.
Now petty clerks, those scrawny berks who never saw a wave.
Or felt the spray on heaving decks consign you to your grave.
Alas, however I protest to save myself from hurt.
They tell us that its for the best, to keep us more alert.
And so the time has come, old friend, to take the final sup.
Our tears are shed. This is the end.
Good bye and bottoms up.
The last Tot was served in the Royal Navy on 31st July 1970. It was the end of a tradition that lasted more than three hundred years. A necessary decision indeed, the time was gone when rum played an important roll in a sailors life. The modern Navy provides better food, better accommodation, and better working conditions. We no longer need a glass of rum to prepare for a battle. Nevertheless, it is a sad day for those old sailors who inhabited the mess at Tot time. Bravo Zulu.
God Bless and keep reading
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