Tossing Back Tots

Once upon a time, in a bar in Antigua, a man noticed that, every evening at 6 p.m., the bartender poured himself a measure of rum, muttered something and downed it in one gulp. Finally, he (Terry) asked the bartender (Mike) what he was doing.

Mike was ex-Royal Navy and he was maintaining a tradition which had actually been eliminated by the navy itself back in 1970. He was drinking his daily rum ration and toasting the Queen, God bless her. It was the beginning of great things. Today numbering some 500 members around the world, the Tot Club meets every day at one of two Antigua bars at 1800 hours to consume a half gill (pronounced like the woman's name, not like what fish have) or 1/8 of a pint of rum, preferably Pusser's Blue Label, which was the rum issued by the Royal Navy. A particularly virulent form of rum it is too.

Each day, each member pours their tot and takes a glass of water. The rum bosun (assigned each week) calls, "Clear your palates" and everyone takes a sip of water. (It is wise not to finish the glass as surviving the tot depends on getting a water chaser happening as soon as possible after.) Guests are then welcomed, announcements are made and there is the date's reading from This Day in Naval History. Then there is a toast, which varies depending on the day of the week but always ends with the lower deck's standing toast: To the Queen, God bless her.

In order to become a member, one must consume 7 tots in 14 days, read the Standard Operating Procedures, and, believe it or not, pass an oral examination. The examination material is drawn from the Tot Club crib sheet, given to initiates at their sixth tot. (I am pleased to announce that we were given ours at about our third tot. This is good since it is four single-spaced typed pages with a lot of dates. Lots and lots of dates.)

Some of the information was not completely clear to me so I have been surfing the Web to round out my knowledge of the battles of St. Vincent, Cape St. Vincent, Camperdown, Copenhagen, the Nile, the Glorious First and, of course, Trafalgar. I've pretty much mastered them...well, except for the damned dates.

The crib sheet also gives the officer's toasts (those that vary by day of the week) and the Queen one; the reasons for the existence of the Tot Club; what is meant by mismuster, black mass and fanny; and many other thrilling bits of trivia.

Last night we downed Tot 4. I have been receiving baby tots because I look like a lady...last night I foolishly wondered aloud why that might be. Mike gave me an evil look and measured me a full half gill of the deadly Pusser's Blue Label. We raised our glasses and, it being Thursday toasted: To a willing foe and sea room, and the Queen, God bless her! I threw back my tot and thought I would die. It was endless. I needed to come up for air but, more than that, I needed my water. Obviously I survived, but I think I'll shut up when they're pouring my tot from now on. If we pass the exam and become members, we are allowed to pour our own tot which can be "up to half a gill". One member who actually doesn't like rum just pours enough so it's visible. Sounds about right to me.

As members, we will be given t-shirts which, if worn to the Saturday muster, drop its price from $5 EC (Eastern Caribbean dollars or about $2 CDN) ot $3 EC (you do the math). We also earn the right to fly the white ensign of the Royal Navy from our starboard courtesy halyard.

The moneys collected pay for the rum and for various good works in the neighbourhood. The club has cleared a number of hiking trails in the area, one of which I hope we will walk today. And they provide entertainment and leisure activities for crew of any Royal Navy ship that might stray into the harbour.

All good fun and nicer bunch of sodden water rats may I never meet.