Queen Mary (Embankment)

Mariner (Waterworld)

Oh God, I think I'm going to puke.

I don't really get it, having sailed the seven seas for decades. Nothing but me, a boat and a tomato plant for company. I shouldn't be sea sick. But I am; and I'm in big trouble.

This boat-cum-pub moves like nothin' I've ever experienced; like a lumbering North Sea Ferry in an episode of Triangle. It's made me green about the fishy gills.

I'm in the khasi trying to compose myself breathing deeply, but it ain't happening. Sicker than Captain Birds Eye I am.

Judas-on-a-stick-of-cod, why now? Why tonight when I've lined myself up for some serious pseudo-fish upon pseudo-fish action?

You see, I planned to 'hoist the main sail' in here with a bird I'd met aboard another boat. Well maybe not a bird aboard a boat as such, more a fish aboard a pub. Well, maybe not a fish aboard a boat, more a half-fish, half-woman type bird aboard a boat that's really a pub.

Clear? ………..Christ, my head isn't.

Ooooh, but she's a lovely little mermaid. Middle-aged number with red hair and a tail. Married? Yes, but deeply unhappy. So it's alright.

And she drinks like a fish (she is a fish). Tonight was supposed to be the night when she and I get it on – in the pub's disabled loo if I had my way(more space in there innit). My plan was to buy her some squid and chips and get a few glasses of wine down here. Then, down to the bog for a quick flipper-trembler.

But I just can't get past this terrible nausea.

It's is a real poser for a fish-man with snake-like intentions.

A word of advice people - and fish; stick to what you know. I mean we met on the Tattershall Castle. That boat rocks a bit too. But nothing like the Queen Mary. This one creaks, groans and throws you about like a ghost train, particularly when a Thames Clipper motors past.

Bottom line; I've made a big mistake taking her here instead of there (doubt I'll be 'taking her' anywhere tonight).

She's noticed I'm not caning the Carlings like I usually do and I'm constantly in the bog. Her frowning and scowling are telling their own story and I reckon she's about to throw in the towel and swim back down to claw-boy, or whatever her lobster-crab-husband is called.

If I could just hold my guts long enough to .......

Composure. Deep breaths. Here goes.

* moves back into the bar *

*belches slightly*

"Ariel, darling, I'm ready for my next pint. And then I've got an idea for some serious deep fried action!"

* Another pleasure boat passes full of hooray henries and the Queen Mary lurches hard from port to starboard *

Oh God. …. I'm in trouble. Wish I hadn't had all those tomatoes earlier.

"Oh crikey..... Ariel…. Baby….fishy….. get your tail ready …… my 'catch' of the day is comin' up .. ….

Mariner's rating for the Queen Mary – 4 / 10

Sputnikski

Ariel has a drink problem - read more here

• View by pub
• View by reviewer
• View by place

• Natural Selection,..

  “,….. Why didn’t they live to be 100?Huh? Well, they woz running round all day, hunting mammoths, eating berries,..rumping their little hearts out. No boozing or smoking. They must have been fit as fiddles. Yer Neanderthalls……….I’ll tell you why, it’s … Continue reading →