The Gunport Door

Misadventure on the Queen Mary

In 1975, I began my checkered bartending career. One of my favorite jobs was at a now-defunct restaurant called “Jack’s at the Beach”, in Santa Monica, California. I became friends with a waiter who worked there named Arthur Ballard. Arthur was from London, and had a striking resemblance to the actor Roger Moore. After work, a group of us would go to an Irish pub directly across the street called McGinty’s. We knew the owner, and after the place closed at 2 am, he would lock the door and the real party began. We drank bottomless pitchers of beer until the sun came up. Fortunately, Arthur and I both lived within walking distance of the pub. We told stories and played darts, or arrows, as Arthur called them. One of the amazing things about Arthur was that the more he drank, the better he threw the arrows.
One night, or early morning, Arthur told a story about his days working as a steward on the Queen Mary. It was a hot summer day, and a bunch of the crew were drinking at the employee bar. Yes, the crew had their own bar. The gun port doors had been opened to allow a cross breeze. One of the crew, who had been banned from drinking on the cruise due to a drunken brawl he had started, came in, walked up to the bartender, and demanded a pint. Everyone stopped talking and looked over at him, knowing there was going to be trouble. The bartender explained that he could not serve him. 
The steward said, “If you don’t give me a pint, I’m out the gun port.” 
Figuring that he was bluffing, the bartender said, “Suit yourself, mate, but no drinks for you.”
With that, the steward suddenly ran toward the gun port, and before anyone could stop him, he did a flying leap out of the port. Everyone just sat there, stunned. If the fall didn’t kill him, then the huge churning props finished the job. His body was never found.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is quite interesting and very well written. Due to your experiences, you no doubt have many stories to relate. During my 20 years in the US Navy, I knew of a few who wigged out and took the giant swan dive. (Probably because of a dear john) I guess that fellow was literally dying for a drink.