In the day the Britsih Navy had a habit of pressing sailors into service. The idea is we go a shore and visit the bars.
We basicly get a gang together from the ship and drag them on board. Big sticks were involved. The persons wife would wake up and say where the heck is my husband ? Well he is a sailor now and you may not hear from him again. Or he may jump ship next port and we will press some more fine lad's into service.
As nice as that may seem we are Battteaumen. The men you could scrape up to be the mules of the river. Strong backs and weak minds. We may be British sailors or your average criminal. But is all about the river at this point. We climbed Tully Mountian today and the lakes were empty.. Gettin cold.
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