Volume 7, Issue 3, page 7

/ilC4 7.9 f(Ila,//
Some years ago when I was younger and a
seaman aboard a merchant ship, some of my
shipmates had never been in New York. Neither
had I, but "old salt" that I was (I was about
17, and didn't mind stretching the truth a
bit), I couldn't admit it. The ship was discharging the crew in Hoboken, and as I stepped
ashore, with my bag over my shoulder, a young
fellow from Texas, who had never been east,
and an old sailor from London, who had never
been in New York, came ashore with me. "Since
you're familiar with the city, Matey, and we
haven't been here before, we'll just go along
with you," they said. And they did.

Well, if you have ever told a big whopper
and had your bluff called, you know that you
had to play it out. So, down the street we
went to the ferry, over to New York, on the
"El" (the right one, down to South Station,
up the street in the right direction to the
Seaman's Institute, where I threw down my bag
in front of the desk, and said, "O.K., boys,
register here for your rooms."
Those fellows never did learn that this was
my first trip to New York.
-- Joseph B. Gunter, Vero Beach, Fla.