A New Year’s Eve in WestPac

A New Year’s Eve in WestPac

By Garland Davis

It was a New Year’s Eve sometime in the mid-seventies. I was serving in an AO. We were in Subic for the holidays and limited availability. Most of the week between Christmas and New Year was stand down and duty days. I had a shipmate who was attached to the watercraft section as a Tug Master. I was crashing at his pad on Baloy Beach, usually accompanied by one Honey-ko or another. I resisted Steadying-up with just one Honey-ko. A steady got the impression she owned your ass and could get angrily violent should you happen to be overcome with desire and get a BJ somewhere else.

Anyway, to get back to the story. The Tug crews were holding a New Years Eve bash at Gus Hansen’s place the Irish Rose. There would be San Miguel, of course, Mojo, booze from the package store on base and a spread of foodstuffs. They had invited girls from all the bars in the Barrio as well as the girls from the Samari, a massage parlor, few steps down the road. The party was to begin at noon on December 31 and run until, well, whenever. The pre-party festivities started at 0600.

My ship was scheduled to sail on January 2. I had stores to load and other stuff to get done so I was late arriving at the party. I got there about 1530-1600. I could hear ‘Amarillo By Morning’ blasting as my Jeepney dropped me in front of the joint. There was a crowd of sailors and girls on the side patio as well as in front of the bar.

“Hey, Stewburner, you’re fucking late. Where ya been?”

“Work! Got any beer?”

“Inside, it’s on the house all paid for. Drinks and food are free. If you want any pussy, you’ll have to pay that yourself.”

I went through the door into the bar and stopped for a minute to see who was there and what was happening. A girl handed me a San Magoo as I waited. Pretty girl. Well, I had done worse. Before I could say anything to her a voice yelled, “Stewburner, get your ass over here.”

He was a Chief Boatswain’s Mate. If I was ever told his real name, I forgot it. Everyone just called him Porky. He had the body configuration, the chubby cheeks, and the turned up nose of Porky Pig, so I just assume that is where the nickname came from. It was easy to see that he had been at the San Miguel since…well…early.

I walked over and said, “Hey Porky. How are they hanging?”

Porky grabbed a passing girl by the wrist, gave her a 50P note and said, “Give the Stewburner a, blow job.”

It turned out that he had been sitting there for most of the afternoon buying BJ’s for all new arrivals to the party. The girls were taking his money. Most of the cars parked out front were being used for a modicum of privacy while the girls performed their job. Although I did see one van with three couple in it. So much for privacy.

The Warrant Officer in Charge of the division and his wife were on the way to a New Year’s Eve bash at the Officer’s Club. The Bos’n stopped at the party to make an appearance. As he came through the door. Porky yelled, “Welcome and Happy New Year!” And he waved a 50P note at one of the girls and said, “Give that boy a blow job.”

Someone said, “Cool it Porky, the Bos’n has his wife with him.”

Without skipping a beat, Porky waved another 50 P’s and said, “Well, fuck it, give her one too.”


3 thoughts on “A New Year’s Eve in WestPac

  1. Pingback: A New Year’s Eve in WestPac — Tales of an Asia Sailor – On the Patio

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