the alfmeister

a figment of reality's imagination

Archive for the tag “RNZN”

Sleep Deprivation…the solutions.

Don't mind the colour - its scurvy.

When under training in the navy it seems to be that officers and non-comms alike, all of which have ‘seniority’ to you take on a masochistic nature and attempt to drive you insane, or into a fully fledged leader, whichever comes first.

One such way was in sleeping. For the life of me I cannot remember a full night’s sleep during my time in the navy, from go to woe. From the early days where we were tipped out of our ‘pits’ in the middle of the night to go for a run, to carrying out watches on deck or in engineering spaces while at sea…or alongside for that matter.

But they didn’t count on me…the man that could be the marketing face for bed manufacturers. If there was a place and a time, I could literally sleep anywhere. Read more…


In The Navy…The Captain’s Chair

If only the Captain's Chair was this comfy!

There is no more sacred place on a warship than the seat on the bridge where the Captain sits on watch…this is generally off-limits to anyone and everyone else unless by invite (as my ‘little brother’ was). Sometimes on night watches when I was on the bridge as Assistant Officer of the Watch (AOOW) and required to maintain visual from the front of the bridge, the officer of the Watch (OOW) used to sit in it giving off the impression he had seniority to do so…lazy pricks…you should have seen them jump on those occasions the Captain did pop up to the bridge unexpected!

Anyway this story is leading somewhere… Read more…

In the Navy – my first…well how do I say this?

Irony; cannot use plastic.

Now that I’ve got your attention, it’s not quite as it sounds…well, sort of.

For those who follow my writings my last naval entry surrounded the pissing incident by my mate at a formal dinner. Well remember how I mentioned he then he ended up in a disciplinary court and lost leave on our pending trip to Asia…right, this is that trip. It was that afternoon after this that we were bundled onto a plane bound for Hong Kong to join up with HMNZ Ships Wellington (F69) and (for the girls) Endeavour (A11) – but first a night’s stopover in Singapore. Read more…

When you gotta go, you just gotta go!

Hang on, there's still beer in that glass!

The recent carry-on with CDR Butcher in the RNZN after a few drinks reminded me of many (read multiple, millions, heaps, shitload) of stories involving incidents on the plonk from when I was in the navy. But if Butcher was lucky to get away with his misdemeanour (although losing command is huge), then my mate Trent was bloody lucky with the punishment dished out with the following incident…

It was during my first year and while still training at Officer Training School (OTS). Every year there was a sports tournament between the three branches (Air Force, Army, Navy) whose participation was limited to Junior Officers which for us included 1st and 2nd Year Midshipmen and Ensigns. It is rotated around the various training schools and in ’91 it was the navy’s turn to host.
Read more…

In The Navy…the hospital

I write this as I sit here in bed feeling pretty shitty about falling to the dreaded “man-flu”, the most debilitating condition known to medical science to such a point that it should be given ACC consideration…but I digress dear reader.


State Health, huh?

Anyways, I was posted to HMNZS Waikato and woke up feeling a bit under the weather, and when I turned up for breakfast and turned down my standard fare of 2 x Bacon and Egg Sarnies, with HP Sauce, even the Stewards looked at me and commented on my lack of appetite, colour, and normal exuberance. About an hour later I found myself in the Navy Hospital up Philomel Hill, lying in a bunk dressed in what loosely resembled a homeless woman’s best dress.

Over the next two or three days (I lost all concept of time) I went through bouts of extreme fever and debilitating chills, vomiting the lining of my stomach into a bucket at me bedside. While they presented me with my three meals a day, nothing was touched (and that means serious for me!) and the only intake was water and green “gargle” in the morning, and red “gargle” at night.


Now this I would have woken for!

I didn’t sleep at all the first couple of days as they tried to control my temperature; fans on me and window open when I was hot, hot water bottles and extra blankets when I was chilled to the bone, and yet nothing seemed to get better. And they were concerned about my lack of sleep.

But I eventually fell asleep the third night. I don;t remember actually falling asleep, but this is what I do remember; I was being shaken lightly on the shoulder, with the demure voice of a young nurse, “Sir? Sir? Wake up”. I ripped my eyelids open to be looking a the cute nurse who had tended me through the afternoon, in her hand a glass of water and a couple of pills. “Sir,’ she cooed to me, “time to take your sleeping pills.”


 /nɜrs/ noun, verb, nursed, nurs·ing.

1. a person formally educated and trained in the care of the sick or infirm.

You have got to be fucking kidding!

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