"Yes, sir," said the seaman, bursting with merriment. "'Cos the sick bay, and it weren't none too large, was all but filled up wi' six 'efty great casks, wi' flagstaffs and sinkers complete. They wus the buoys Number One 'ad bin talkin' abart all along."
I could not help laughing.
"I see," I said. "The First Lieutenant meant BUOYS and the doctor the ship's BOYS, what?"
He nodded.
"But tell me," I asked. "What about the bleeding?"
"Bleedin', sir! Why, d'you mean to tell me you don't know wot bleedin' a buoy is?"
"I'm afraid my nautical knowledge is very limited," I apologised.
"It's surprisin' wot some shoregoin' blokes don't know abart th' Navy, sir," said the burly one with some contempt, chuckling away to himself. "But if you reely wants to know, bleedin' a buoy means borin' a small 'ole in 'im to let the water art, 'cos they all leaks a bit arter they've bin in the sea. But I must say good arternoon, sir," he added hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder and rising to his feet. "'Ere's my gal comin', and there's another abart 'arf a cable astern of 'er wot I expec's is yourn. Good arternoon, sir, and don't git stoppin' no more o' them there bullets." He touched his forelock.
"But tell me?" I said. "Did the first lieutenant and doctor make it up all right?"
"Bet your life they did, sir," he said with a laugh, moving off. "Them haffairs wus almost o' daily hoccurrence."