Skip to main content

An anonymous, confident 1st-year student and cook writes...

As a first - year uni student, I was typically confident about my cooking skills.

...Never had I ever done mother watch.

This was my day:

0600 - prepare breakfast

0700 - serve 23 breakfast, (including those picky who wanted more of some and less of another.) *Charlie threw up

0730 - clean up after everyone including anti bac and sweeping - something that was foreign to me.

0900 - prepare 'elevensies'. A delicate task of preparing something 'adventurous' from a selection of tins AND not filling people up too much that they don't want lunch.

1100 - Present creation.

1115 - clear up creation remains.

1200 - make lunch. Boil pasta, add some herbs and hope for the best. (FYI, tinned cheese does NOT melt).

1430 - clear up lunch. (at this point hot water turns from hot to cold and tea towels become useless.)

1500 - Hurriedly prepared afternoon snack. Rushed use of last night's bread: add some marmite and pretend you made it.

1600 - Nap from cooking exhaustion.

1700 - Start preparing dinner. Sick of food now. Whatever herbs/food found will go in.

2000 - Serve dinner and prepare yourself for the mandatory applause you deserve for cooking the whole entire day.

2100 - Pass off as much washing up as you can to other watches on the sympathy vote.

2200 - Fall into bed ignoring the fact the Watch Officer had previously thrown up in the jug you just used for water at dinner an hour ago.

Mum, if you're reading this. I hold my hands up. I surrender. Consistently feeding others is not something I am capable of. Thanks for regularly feeding me over the last 19 years. Rather you than me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Leg 5 is off! Excited crew... Excited parents too we suspect...

Come Sail with the RSP - and get wet...

You know that feeling where you're trying to go to sleep but a trickle of
water is falling on your head? That feeling where your bed leans back and
forth at angles of up to thirty degrees, and every tilt brings a fresh gush
of water onto your sleeping bag with the volume and intensity of a small
power shower? When you are on your bunk one moment and one metre above it
the next? That simultaneously funny and sickening moment when a crack team
of soggy sailors rushes into your bedroom to pump out the ever-increasing
tide of seawater under your bunk? No? Come sail with the Rona Sailing
Project, and all this could be yours. Yes, we have finally reached that
long-awaited stage of the voyage where the helmsman and lookouts must wear
ski goggles to see through the spray, the widely agreed marker for the
apogee of excitement in any sailing trip. Last night we encountered winds of
up to gale force nine, building until midnight. Luminescence made this
moment all the more memora…

Rona II vs The Beast

If I'd written "Rona vs. The Beast" at the beginning of the trip you would
probably have thought I would be referring to the Atlantic as "The Beast".
But, this really isn't the case. For some unknown reason Viking Watch Leader
Matt Woodcock has decided to give me, Olly Jones, this nickname. Claiming he
overheard me making some outlandish claims on the foredeck such as "I'm the
strongest man on the boat" and "I'll beat you all in a strength contest"
this nickname has stuck. I'm regularly welcomed onto night watch with
screams of "UNLEASH THE BEAST" and when we need a a sail hoisted they will
shout "WE SUMMON THE BEAST". Fully embracing this title I've shown the
little whippersnappers of Viking watch how to properly do a racing headsail
change and sheet in the spinnaker.

Today happens to be my boat birthday and also Chinese New Year according to
the boat calendar. At this point I'd like to…