This is a funny boating story

[knottybuoyz]

that hasn't been written yet. When we were kids we didn't have any toys to play with so we made up stories. Someone would start with half a sentence and the next person would add to it and so on and so on the story went (and wandered). So everybody can add to this story with a few words or a sentence. I'll start;

Once upon a time there was a crusty old sailor (Alan Wheeler) who lived on ......

A classic, immmaculately kept wooden schooner. He had a dog named...

[Rangiroo]

Tosser...funny name for a dog but he was called that because......

he has this terrible habit of getting seasick when ever the seas were too calm. As the vessel would fall into that gentle downwind groove, that poor old dog would crawl below, and toss his lunch where ever the urge hit him. For most boat pets, this would have been the end of their very short sailing careers, but Tosser had been with the old sailor through many years, and many miles.
It all started...

[TaoJones]

. . . when the old sailor was unceremoniously pitched out the back door of a saloon/whorehouse in Rangoon, landing with a clatter among the cheap garbage cans. He came to with a start, amazed to discover a scruffy cur licking his . . .

[Starbuck]

…foulies. They bacame instant and inseperable friends from that moment on. Tosser was even by his side when a gale blew the boat so off course…

That even the seasoned old mariner was questioning his future.It was at that moment, when the vessel was skimming across mountainous waves under bare poles, wind, howling through the rig, and even the old skipper was feeling a bit green, that old dog proved where his heart was by sitting stead fast on deck, balanced, and ready to face what ever the sea would throw at the vessel. He seemed to know exactly where they were.
On those rare occasions that guests would sail with the old man, someone would foolishly comment on the ragged old dog, cowering below deck. Such remarks would be met with stories of...

[cooper]

the time that tosser saved crusty by chewing through the rope that was holding the tiller, allowing the boat to round up letting a very embaresed and cold skiper to get back on board as well as......

[TaoJones]

. . . the time he and Tosser were in the BVIs, nursing their beer at The Last Resort, when a pale white Noo Yawka with a small brain and a big mouth yelled out, "Hey, bahtendah, get dis mutt ouda heah!" apparently unaware of the chickens and goats wandering about. Crusty turned his head to stare at the loudmouth who'd insulted his best friend.

Slowly he rose from his barstool, and ambled over to a door in the corner with a big oval hole cut into it. Over the hole was written the word "Chocolate," and beyond the door was only sea and sky, and a small bit of the tiny island.

"Hey! New Yorker! Let's discuss this outside," shouted Crusty, and he opened the door, stepped out into the balmy night, and closed the door behind him.

The obnoxious drunk stumbled toward the door, but just as he reached it, a dark brown mule stuck his head through the opening, bared his huge teeth, and chomped down on the man's unlit $5 cigar.

Stunned, the man couldn't move, and didn't seem to realize that the liquid, spreading warmth running down his leg into his Topsider was Tosser's greeting card.

From behind him, he heard Crusty say, "Good boy, Tosser . . . I've seen a pissed-off New Yorker before, but this is the first one I've seen pissed-on!"

With a nod to the bartender, Crusty threw two silver dollars onto the bar, turned, and he and Tosser returned to their schooner, weighed anchor, and . . .

[sundari]

Out to sea they went. Then Tosser looked at the captain as if to say?.. What port next mate!!.. More adventures in the wind?

Stories like these were not only used to put guests in their proper place, but the old sailor was a Welshman. And, as a Welshman, had a natural knack for story telling. In every port, people would come to his boat to spend a day listening to him tell of his adventures. One of his most popular had become well known in ports around the world. He would wait until a local child would swim up to the boat in some remote island anchorage, begging to trade fish or small tasks for candy, and he would begin the tale. It was a dark and stormy night...

[NoTies]

And Tosser was standing guard on the foredeck as usual, when a rogue wave washed him over the side. The crusty old sailor's crew for that trip yelled out (TOSSER'S OFF) whereupon the crusty old sailor replied "sorry son, no time, I'm trying to retrieve my dog". (with aoplogies to those that don't understand downunder humour)

[knottybuoyz]

Little did the Crusty Ole' Sailor know that Tosser was wake surfing on the drogue line and after two emergency turns and four stiff scotch single malts....

[Benny]

the schooner was brought head to wind and Tosser swam to the boat with a fish in his mouth, apparently he had gone to fetch dinner and not been washed over but this was nothing compared to the time when...

Crusty was having drinks, and swooning a young lass in a Columbian bar. She was clearly mezmorized by the excitement of his adventurous life. The girl was so lost in the stories, what was obvious to everyone else in the bar, was lost on her. Just as Crusty launched into another story, an older Columbian man, seemingly ageless, but probably a few years younger than Crusty got up from the bar...