The device of the galley on sailing ships. In the galley or what is seafood cuisine. The location of the kitchen

Today we will turn to the eternal. Who said: "To Shakespeare"???
No. Dear comrade William Shakespeare, we will leave for another forum. So what is on the ship so archaic and little influenced by progress ??? And oddly enough, it's a galley!

That's how he was on the sailboat.

Fire, a cauldron, and a man who, under such conditions, must provide hot meals to a gang of thugs.
A galley is a room on a ship, suitably equipped and intended for cooking (kitchen).
The galley and the cook have always been on the ship and at all times. Why? Yes, because any person from the cabin boy to the admiral and the commander of any fleet wants to eat. Yes, 3-4 times a day.

Kok is the ship's cook. The word Dutch (Dutch. kok), comes from lat. coquo - cook, bake, fry.
Kok performs the tasks of providing food to the personnel of a military unit, a ship. His duties include preparing a quality breakfast, lunch and dinner, distributing food to personnel, as well as receiving, maintaining and storing food. The cook must know the basics of cooking, the rules for storing food products and their cost, be able to work with electric ovens.
Military registration specialty - specialties of military nutrition.
Regular military rank - sailor, senior sailor.
To master a specialty, primary or secondary vocational education is required.
To be appointed to a position, it is necessary to undergo training in the training detachments (schools of junior specialists) of the Navy.
And on ancient sailboats and on super modern cruisers, aircraft carriers and submarines there are people busy cooking and rooms for this very process.
Yes, these are not gunners, not captains. They do not fire on enemy ships, do not make fateful decisions on which the life and death of hundreds of people depend. But how all this will happen depends very much on their work. Because any person, if he is poorly fed, will think not about completing a combat mission, but about visiting, excuse me, a latrine.

So. Previously, on sailboats and steamships, the work of a cook was especially difficult. Imagine. There is no refrigerator, the stove in the galley is on the coal, the provisions are corned beef or in general live on the deck in the cells, clucking and lowing. And the deck itself dangles underfoot. And morals are simple and unsophisticated. You feed badly and they can throw you overboard.
Now, of course, they don’t wash overboard, but they can also knock on the kumpol. Especially when the flight or trip is long and the personnel are a little brutalized from this. But from the lyrics, let's move on to practice and consider the device of the galley of the end of the last century in more detail. Welcome to the galley of an average dry cargo ship or timber carrier from the times of the USSR.

Usually 2 cooks and 1 galley worker (auxiliary worker) prepare food for 40-50 team members.
Theater begins with a hanger. A galley starts with a food warehouse. Or simply from the artel. There is a warehouse for storing dry bulk products. Sugar, cereals, pasta. Refrigerators for storing groceries and freezers for storing meat and fish.

Beef meat comes in the form of half carcasses and quarter carcasses. Pork carcasses and half carcasses. Lamb carcasses. And it is stored in the freezer suspended on hooks. The funniest thing is that loading meat resembles a fairy tale about Zhiharka. Like a fox couldn't put it in the oven. So here too. The elevator is small and the beef does not climb there. When people get tired of fighting it, the carcasses are simply dragged onto the ladder and, with the help of a magic pendal, they are sent flying down. The main thing is that no one peeks out of the artelka at this time.

Cereals and potatoes are easier here. Soft bags fit into the elevator quite normally. It's more fun on the flight. The elevator door opens onto the open deck. And on the flight, oddly enough, there are storms. Especially in winter in the Atlantic. As a result, the bag was put on the back and climbed the 50 degree ladder.

But, our people, I remember they carried sugar in bags, he happily climbed up the vertical ladder from the hold with a bag. And one deck of the hold is the height of a 2-storey building. These are the feats that love for a freebie pushes people to.
And the Navy is still tougher. There are many people, little mechanization.
The loading has begun. Five "kamaz" food. Mountains of boxes. No sleep, no eating - load! All the way! Our emphasis is sliding, so that he ...
Come on, come on, Slavs! Nada! They fell, it failed!
Boxes, boxes... boxes...
- Mesh-kii! Bags up! Cans... Packages... Sugar on the deck... after it, the meat - into the mud, then it will go to cutlets...
- Hold on! Who's in the LUKE?! What kind of infection is on the way?!
Seven boxes of sugar on one line.
- It will break!
- It won’t tear, we’ll throw it in a quick way - and sleep!
Nearly flew off after the boxes.
- Pa-ra-zi-ti-na! Did you want to get laid?!
Seven boxes of sugar - one hundred and fifty kilos.
- Hey, upstairs, take it easy!
- Do not hold, infection!
- Stop throwing!
- I'm going to knock someone in the face!
Sugar on deck. Packets crunch under boots; cans, bags, kidneys, fish, compote - all this flies down, falls, beats.
The chopped compote does not come out of the can - it is frozen.
Damn, I'm thirsty. Where is it now, impaled? Overboard!
- Where did you throw it? You can warm it up - put it on the tras (transformer) - and drink!
- Didn't realize.
Loading. There will be five Kamaz trucks in total, we will throw them in - and sleep!
Sleep...
Hangover day. He barely opens his cloudy eyes. Put in some matches.
Polar night. Dawn at twelve, and at two already darkness.
Unshaven. Shaved means sleepy.
The snow is falling. On the pier, a mountain of garbage covered with snow; trampled boxes - loading is in progress.
- Let's! What are we standing? Come on guys, we'll be done soon!
- When we finish! The end is not in sight.
- Upstairs! Fall asleep, right? Bastards, there's no one there! Everyone fled. Petrov, vigorous root!
- Why am I, alone, or something, I'll be here, just a little - immediately Petrov, and everyone sleeps in cabins, like marmots.
- Mikhalych! Play big collection! You need to go through the cabins and skerries! Raise your kicks...
Someone is lying in the cabin; It’s dark, like a black man ... The beak was removed from the bag, scum, so that they would not be disturbed. And we are without light, by the legs - and on deck ...
Why are we sleeping? There people are disfigured, and you have a bed here? Well, get up!
There is a pile of garbage on the pier, and tomorrow - in the sea. Love for the sea is instilled by the unbearable life on the coast.
- Why did they run away from the loading? Why, I ask?! So, in his hold, and so that only the ears stick out! ..
- Pain-sha-I-pri-bor-ka!
- Attention to the ship! The garbage truck has arrived! Take out the trash!
But okay. Products received. Let's go to the galley. The door is healthy clinket on zadraiki. So that if anything it was possible to hide from the wave. We open. We go.
To the right is an elevator to the command canteen and the campaign cabins. The worm lift to the next deck takes about 6 minutes. Therefore, only the first one is sent to the team's canteen and the cuts are sent. And for the second orderly on the ladder runs. Nothing he young will fall apart. But we will turn to distribution later. Now let's start with the worst. What scares everyone in the army and navy. It's from peeling vegetables.

Potato peeler machine. It's either on the big cruise ships. Or on exemplary ships. And the rest. Of course she is. But only as a monument to itself. Why? Because it's either broken. Or out of savings. Because it uses a lot of water.

Why wastes a lot of water? Because she goes there all the time. Then, after the car, the potatoes still need to be cleaned. And therefore, most often potatoes, carrots, onions, etc. have to be cleaned by hand. For 40 people. Represented? A Soviet potato. It seems that it was specially grown in a rubber peel. Which, not like a car, refuses to take a knife. And about modern fashionable potato peelers, I generally keep quiet. In principle, she cannot cope with such a root crop. Therefore, all the galley workers of that time had a tacit agreement. Wash this root vegetable maid in ussr as quickly as possible. To buy already normal potatoes that are easy and convenient to peel. And these potatoes flew overboard, often right in the sacks. But this is on a dry cargo ship. And in the Navy. What was taken. That's what we chew. Especially on a submarine.
Here they cleaned the potatoes with carrots, now we need to peel the onions. What's scary??? In fact, peeling onions is not a big problem. The onion itself does not sting the eyes before cleaning. After cleaning, he is already floating in a pot of water. Also phytoncides do not fly away. Here is the PROCESS! At first, the fighters suffer. But they adapt pretty quickly. A porthole and a door, or two portholes on different sides, and a draft is provided. He carries caustic phytoncides into the corridor. But this is no longer our problem. Especially if together with the aroma of borscht. Let the people in the car choke with saliva. :rollface:
Great. Root crops are cleaned. You have to start cooking right away.
To cook the broth in large quantities, we use a dissecting kettle. Here is such a monstrous unit. The devils in hell will be jealous.

It's all great in the picture. In reality, the safety valve poisons. The lid does not close properly. And if there are several such boilers, then the cooking room is all in a pair that your bathhouse.
Now you understand why the galley on battleships is arranged like this?

Otherwise, you won't be able to stay there for long. And you have to work there every day. Without days off and holidays. The whole trip. And this is a few months.
OK, while our broth is being cooked, we need to make a passivation. That is, fry onions, carrots for dressing. Large ships have special vegetable cutter machines. As a rule, this is a drive and replaceable nozzles on it so that you can cut vegetables and puree puree. Yes. It's certainly not hand-cut. But if you need to feed a thousand people, then there is no way without cars. So! We take a tank of carrots, we take a 20 liter boiler. The boiler is under the working chamber, the machine is turned on, we pour the carrots into the receiving funnel. Poured out. And they ducked. I said duck!!! Because it happens that the root crop from this device flies not only down in a cut form, but also in the forehead of a gaping coke. The cutting process takes seconds. On ordinary dry cargo ships. Everything is more prosaic. Now they manage with food processors, but before everything was done by hand. Knife, board and hands. The carrot was cut. You can put it in a frying pan. And slicing onions. Remove the feed funnel. We remove the knife that cut the carrot into strips, and put the knife for cutting with plastic. Feed funnel in place. Knife in the sink, galley. The water from the boiler where the onion floated was drained. The boiler where there was a carrot under the working chamber. We turn it on. Deep breath. We dump the onion into this shaitan unit. And we move to a safe distance. Because compared to what this car will give out now. It's a gas attack. Baby talk on the lawn. Kilogram 5-7 onion cut almost instantly. The area of ​​its contact with air is huge. Phytoncides from destroyed cells are released intensively. Generally inhaled. They came up, took a pan with chopped onions and dumped them into a frying pan. The lid was closed. You can rinse the car with a hose. So that the onion does not smell particularly fragrant. Dismantled. They gave it to the galley. Let him wash. Now the lid on the pan is open. They interfered. And here's the frying pan.

It's easy with a frying pan. Set the desired temperature. And she supports you. After frying/stewing. Washed the frying pan and drained the dirty water from it. Clean rinsed and good.
You can also cook scrambled eggs, meatballs, chops and fried zrazy there. In general, the frying pan and the frying pan are just big. Passirovochka is done and now you can pour the finished broth from the boiler into a 50 liter boiler. Faucet boiler. a colander with gauze into the cauldron to filter. And the broth flowed. We open the lid so that air access is normal and merges more fun. And in a cauldron of broth, a pork head appears all in clubs of steam. Picture, Hitchcock is resting. The broth has drained. We take out the bones. We separate the meat. And it's hot with lard. But nothing, it's hot. Two is hot. Then you adapt. Bones in the lagoons and discarded. Cut the meat and set aside. And we put a 50 liter boiler with broth on the stove.
Caboose stove.
A galley stove, in general, is no different from a conventional stove in a catering establishment. Its only difference is the special sides and spacers that prevent the boilers from moving on the plate during the pitching. The plate itself may look, for example, like this.

They are placed on the sides only during pitching. Because the plates were made by one research institute, the boilers were different. As a result, after installing the spacers, exactly half of its regular load is placed on the slab. The plate itself, you know, is far from metal ceramics. And the old condo burners with shadows. Moreover, the shadows warm somewhere as if not in themselves, but somewhere they have already partially died. And therefore, they do not change the heating of the burner, but move the boiler or frying pan to the burner that gives the desired heat. OK dinner is getting ready. Let's talk about daily bread.
About daily bread.
During a voyage or a long trip, bread is baked right on the ship. To do this, there are bakeries on all ships and ships that are intended for long-distance voyages. The size of the bakery depends on the estimated number of personnel. The more people, the more bread is required. Here's another nuance. Only white bread can be baked on a camping trip. Rye dough does not rise from vibration on the ship. Therefore, rye bread is taken with them in a frozen form. And by the way, in this form, it is quite normally stored. Up to half a year no problem. And before serving it, you just need to defrost it and warm it up in a steam bath. It's called tricky, but it's really quite simple. Large saucepan. In it, put a colander and a lid on top of the lid, put the loaves on top of the pan, and put a towel on top of the pan. And ice cream bread becomes quite normal. But we are already baking white bread.

In the bakery, which is also a confectionery, in theory, we should have a dough mixing machine, a dough sheeter, a separate refrigerator and, of course, ovens. But this is ideal. In real. Our dough mixer broke down even under the king of peas and there are no spare parts and never will be. Therefore, we put dough for bread. And then add flour and start kneading. All hand to hand. Hours that way at 5 am. Kneading dough for bread is harder than carrying iron in a rocking chair. Therefore, our biceps will be beautiful and embossed. Moreover, this is all happening next to the baking cabinet, which is already starting to warm up. He will enter the regime somewhere in an hour. And we are good if in the Arctic. What if it's in the tropics? Overboard +30 in the bakery +50, but you have to work. And there is no horse. And so from day to day. Then we dose the dough. Into the forms and let it rise.

How will it rise. So into the oven. Our oven also heats crookedly, on the one hand it is too hot. On the other hand, not so much. As a result, the forms must be rotated. And all this by hand and in a hot oven. A juggler with burning torches nervously smokes on the sidelines. And at the same time it is impossible to hit the form. Otherwise, the bread will fall off and become flat and not fluffy. And who will eat it in this form? No sailors conscripts can certainly be modest. In the first year, and not so swept away. But this will not work for officers and civilians. Therefore, accuracy, accuracy and again accuracy.
Here friends, we have covered the highlights of the galley. So far, the cold and meat shops have been left behind. But on a dry cargo ship there are simply no separate ones. So if you have any questions. Ask. I'll tell you. So so. Storing, cleaning, cooking, baking bread have been considered. Now it's time to move on to the distribution of food.
Distribution.
This again depends on the size and type of our ship. In theory, they try to make a galley and a dining room on the same level. But it doesn't always work out. Therefore, as I said above, the orderly often has to saiga with a tray along the ladder. Because the elevator is slow and small.
And on warships they make a separate dining room for the crew. Where the distribution resembles an ordinary canteen.

After eating, of course, all dishes should be washed and dried. Boilers and pans too. The deck in the galley should be washed at least 2 times a day. After lunch and after dinner. Moreover, the deck is scrubbed to perfect cleanliness. Therefore, friends, always remember the hard work of those who prepare food for you. And if something doesn't work for them. Understand and forgive them. And help as much as you can. Even just help your mom in the kitchen, even when she doesn't force you.
Our little impromptu excursion came to an end. Traditional THANK YOU to everyone who read to the end.

Yes, I want to talk about the galley, because this is a more significant thing than land counterparts. In fact, even the ancient Romans or Greeks, who traveled through their flat world, would agree with me in terms of the fact that everything is easier on land. And with a trireme or any other vessel, where the hell are you going.

Meanwhile, the kitchen, that is, the galley on the ship, is not an old thing. People have sailed the seas for hundreds of years, but cooking on them began relatively recently. The same ancient Greeks and Romans, who traveled along the coast, always landed on the coast at night and made a fire there and cooked their own food.

And the galley itself appeared much later. And immediately gained eerie fame. What are the names "Purgatory", "Room of fear", "Kingdom of filth".

It is known for certain that there were no galleys on the ships of Columbus. Some 400 years ago. The daily distribution of food was handled by a food master, also called a pickler, and a bataler, who was in charge of casks of water, wine and brandy.

What did the sailors eat? Depending on the state of the shipowner's pocket.

Rusks. This was the foundation. It is clear that there were no ovens for baking bread on wooden sailboats, and if there were, how much coal and firewood would you have to carry with you? So yes, sea biscuits.

Hefty chunks, so hard that they could hardly be broken with a hammer. Depending on the flour used to make them, crackers differed in appearance and taste. English ones were light, as they were baked from wheat and corn.

The Swedish "knekbrod", "crunchy bread", was called "touchstone" because of its hardness and configuration, because it was shaped like a donut. German "knallers" ("cracks") were baked from rye and were a favorite variety of crackers among sailors.

In addition, there were also special double-hardened crackers. For the farthest travels. They were also called biscuits, which in French means "baked twice".

But even dried to the limit, to ringing, crackers, in the conditions of the sea-ocean, under the influence of constant dampness, quickly became moldy. Or hello worms and other protozoa. And this is despite the fact that already in the 18th century, crackers began to be sealed in jars.

In such cases, the worm-infested crackers were simply lightly soaked in sea water and baked again in a conventional oven. Well, as if the same crackers were obtained, but with meat seasoning in the form of baked worms. Bon appetit, so to speak.

In general, the ship's dry pack consisted of the simplest things that did not require special storage conditions. Dried or salted meat, salted lard, crackers, hard cheese, vegetable oil, alcohol, dried vegetables, vinegar.

By the way, vinegar was not a seasoning, but a disinfectant. The condiment was wine until it turned sour and turned into vinegar, and a little later (after 300 years) - rum or aquavit.

By the way, I can throw such a recipe under rum. British. The dessert was called "dog cake". He was very popular in the fleet of Her Majesty Queen Victoria.

Rusks, or rather, their remains, were ground into small crumbs, then lard and sugar were added to the crumbs, ground in a mortar (for example, for tobacco) and diluted with water. It turned out to be a fatty-sweet pasta, which was given the rather outlandish name "dog cake".

It is believed that sea pudding originated precisely from the “dog cake”, since there is something in common in the recipes.

A pudding was prepared from flour, sugar, raisins and melted fat mixed with water. Then this dough was placed in a canvas bag. The bag was tied up, an identification tag was attached to it, and, together with the pudding bags of other tanks, was lowered into a large galley boiler. But this appeared when boilers for cooking were firmly assigned to the ships.

Well, in general, 400 years ago, food was rarely cooked on a ship, and edible food was even less common. The first invention for the galley was an open hearth with a brick hearth covered with sand. Usually one cauldron was hung up, in which food was cooked.

The most common recipe was half-porridge-semi-porridge (depending on the amount of water that could be spent on the dish), their cereals and corned beef.

It could be varied. Peas, lentils, barley, beans, rice, millet - depending on the region. And corned beef. It could be added in the presence of olive and other oils.

On the ships of the old times there was such a position - tank. This is an unfortunate person in his own way, whose duties included obtaining food for a certain number of sailors and, most importantly, a meat portion.

The bataler gave out rum personally to each sailor. As they say, rum is sacred.

But the cook in marine folklore did not enjoy authority. On the contrary, the nicknames that were awarded to him were usually more than offensive.

But here it’s worth just understanding why the cook was a condemned figure. It is probably worth noting for the sake of fairness that the ships of that time did not differ in huge sizes and were really limited in carrying capacity.

What was the galley in the conditions of eternal shortage of fresh water?

A dirty, stinking room, in the middle of which stood a brick slab. The rest of the square housed kitchen tables, decks for chopping firewood and butchering meat, barrels and tanks, boilers, shelves with pots, stacks of firewood, sacks and provisions.

And in the midst of all this hell, the cook reigned. In fact, he was trying to make something like that. It is clear that in the vast majority of cases, only one dish was also prepared for the team. And not the best quality.

The lack of water created unsanitary conditions. The lack of normal storage conditions gave rise to crowds of rats. Well, and so on.

The cook on the sailing ship was an odious figure. Disrespected, cursed, often drowned cooks (mostly stupidly), but this did not improve the state of affairs. It is clear that the chef from the restaurant will not go to serve as a cook on a sailboat.

However, something was being prepared. I will give a few recipes in the appendage to the "dog cake" and peas with corned beef.

By the way, on the second day after peas with corned beef, they could have served corned beef with peas. Marine humor, yes. And at the same time the reality of life.

Russian ship cabbage soup.

We take a boiler. We have only one, so we do everything in it. To begin with, we put lard, sauerkraut, onions, carrots and parsley root into the boiler and fry it all.

We chop the fish (it doesn’t matter at all which one we could catch) into pieces and also lightly fry in this beauty.

Then add water and bring to a boil. We add vegetable oil, salt, pepper and, in principle, we call tankers. The cabbage soup is ready.

Fine? Well, those who know will say - you can eat. I agree. What about potage? Okay, let's leave it for dessert.

Soup.

We take a cauldron, throw lard or butter and onions into it. Lots of onions. There is garlic - a lot of garlic. And useful, and it will be necessary to beat off the smell. Fry. Until ruddy.

Then pour water and throw pieces of corned beef. Not cleaning and not soaking, because water is a value. And so it goes. We cook for an hour and a half.

When the corned beef is boiled to the point that it can be chewed, we go to the battleship and take the bag. It doesn't matter with what. Peas, lentils, barley. Anything that can be cooked. We fall asleep as is, with worms and larvae, there is nothing to scatter with protein. We cook!

Then the most difficult. It is necessary to take pepper and laurel from the stocks and add just enough to beat off the smell. All is good. The food is ready.

It is clear that with such a “menu”, the arrival of scurvy is a matter of time. And then food goes into battle, which any scurvy with bleeding gums and loose teeth could easily swallow.

Labskaus.

They say the recipe from the Vikings still came. I don’t believe it, it was easier for these brahm guys to kill a sick person, to bother like that for weeks.

We take a soldering of corned beef and boil it. It's 2-3 hours. Boiled corned beef finely-finely cut, add also finely chopped salted herring and rub with a pestle in a mortar. In the resulting something we bring down pepper from the soul (salt is already enough there), dilute with water and rum. The first - so that you can swallow it, the second - so that it does not stink like that.

True, it is worth noting that labskaus did not solve the issue of getting rid of scurvy at all. In the sea, corned beef was still gradually rotten and stank like a dead man. Yes, when canned meat came into use under Napoleon, it was not for nothing that they were nicknamed the "dead Frenchman" in the British Navy.

And, of course, potage. The most cursed dish of privateers, pirates and tea clippers. The dish was prepared when the stocks of provisions came to an end, and there was no way to replenish them.

Potage was prepared very simply. A cauldron of water was taken, into which everything that remained on board was thrown. Rats, wormy crackers, worm meal, leftovers, fish tails, and so on.

Usually, the preparation of the potage was followed by a riot of the team, but ...

The world of sailing ships was somewhat different from the civilized world. And first of all, food.

Hot food on sailboats was delivered from the galley to the crew's cockpit in tanks. Of these, and if, since the bowls on the ship are still a luxury. While eating, each sailor in turn launched a spoon directly into the common tank. Anyone who could not stand the rhythm and climbed out of turn, got a spoon on his fingers or on his forehead.

In general, everything is so sanitary and hygienic that there are no words.

But that's half an orange! Okay, food quality. What about water quality? It is clear that most often the team received cheap and not entirely benign products. Corned beef, beans, cereals, lard... But the water, which was mainly collected at best, from potrovye wells, and at worst - from nearby rivers, was also not a gift.

The main thing is that it was not enough. And it quickly deteriorated in the only container at that time - wooden barrels.

Considering that salt was the most common preservative, the question of the edibility of salted meat was also not raised. Simply because it had to be soaked in the same fresh water in a good way. Which was completely lacking, and which, moreover, quickly deteriorated, especially in hot latitudes.

With each month of sailing, the water became thicker and stinkier. Subsequently, wooden water tanks were replaced by iron ones. However, until now, water on a ship is considered a value: a person can overcome hunger for a week, or even more, but every day he must drink a certain minimum of water.

In general, cooking on the ships of the past was not the most amusing and grateful thing. And here it’s not even about ships and cooks.

More precisely, mostly in ships. Even more precisely, as I have already noticed - in their size. If a normal and people-loving cook does not have the proper amount of kitchen utensils, then no punishments can force him to work miracles. And the lack of water nullifies all the dreams of "tasty and healthy" food.

I don’t know how the British had with their traditional “five-o-clock”, that is, evening tea on ships. It probably wasn't the most delicious drink. Repeating what was for lunch, only in a diluted form.

Plus permanent water savings.

On the ships of Vasco da Gama, when sailing to India, each sailor was entitled to:

680 grams of crackers;
- 453 grams of corned beef;
- 1 liter of water,
- 40 grams of vinegar,
- 20 grams of olive oil,
- onions, garlic, dried and fresh vegetables.

Probably because Vasco da Gama came back. And here is an example of another diet. The sailor of the English expedition on the transport "Bounty", which ended in a mutiny and the landing of the captain:

3 kilograms 200 grams of biscuits;
- 1 pound of corned beef (450 grams);
- 160 grams of dried fish;
- 900 grams of peas or cereals;
- 220 grams of cheese;
- water, rum.

For comparison, I can cite a ration of a Russian sailor from the time of Catherine II. With the "Bounty" at the same time, in fact.

A Russian sailor for a month was supposed to:
- 5.5 kg of beef meat in the form of corned beef or fresh;
- 18 kg of crackers;
- 4 kg of peas;
- 2.5 kg of buckwheat;
- 4 kg of oats;
- 2.5 kg of oil;
- more than 0.5 kg of salt;
- 200 g of vinegar;
- 3.4 liters of vodka (28 glasses).

Potage was not brewed on Russian ships...

Instead of calling the place where food is prepared the kitchen, sailors always called it the galley. The location of this galley depended on the size of the ship and the cargo for which it was intended.

It was a small fishing smack (a single-masted vessel used as a fishing, coaster or military messenger - approx. translator), and it was being repaired over the winter in the muddy, reedy banks of the Harlem River in New York when I stumbled across it while I was traveling. Its carrying capacity was only sixty tons, and the cargo, consisting of oysters, was located on the deck. In a small square aft deckhouse, so close to the stern that the tiller was an inch or so from the gangway, was a galley. The skipper, seated on a stool, could steer with the tiller in one hand, and with the other hand leaning on the aft side of this deckhouse, and he could lower his legs into the gangway if he wanted to warm his shins. Below deck, there was a bunk on each side, and at the front end of this small room was a small cooking oven and a couple of drawers that had been converted into cupboards. The chimney went up through an iron ring in the roof of the cabin, and the pipe was turned away to the leeward side. The crew of such a vessel included one, or a maximum of two, people.

And on many and larger coasters, the layout of the galley was the same. So, for example, on river schooners, the deck was occupied with cargo and the entire crew and cook slept together in the stern. So it was on some small ships from Maine, on which the captain, cook and sailor were all one family, being related.

Fishing boats and boats from the Grand River had four to six berths at the stern, with a stove placed in the center of the floor to keep them warm. The chimney of this furnace went up through the middle of the cabin roof and had a domed iron visor that diverted sparks to the leeward side so as not to burn through the mainsail. And food was cooked on a stove located below, standing just behind the foremast. The exit from the galley was located in front of a long forecastle, in which ten or twelve benches were placed along the walls so that food could be easily transferred to the crew. The wardroom was located at the stern. A chimney with a lid at the top went through an iron apron installed in the deck next to the vestibule, through which they got into the galley below.

All this was made strong, as these vessels were flooded up and down with green water when they sailed to sell their fish in the market or when the ship rose up and down the wave, safely surviving the storm that hammers the waves of the Atlantic Sea into these flat shores. On these waves the ship galloped like a bucking mustang.

What a contrast compared to the West Indies, the Spanish mainland (America in the Caribbean - approx. translator) of old times! Squat little ships sailed here, vagrants from among the ships. From time to time I came across a Chesapeake schooner (a city in the central part of the state of Virginia, on the Elizabeth River and the Coastal Canal - approx. translator), which was as beautiful and neat as a pilot boat, and whose long, tapering masts would shame the thin, curved masts of native ships. Here, in waist-high chests filled with sand and a little aft of the fore-mast, the Negroes cooked their fish on the fire and warmed their oil cans full of native liquor.

Before deck superstructures came into vogue, when ships were still relatively small, the galley was always at the bottom of the ship, below deck. For a long time, a stone hearth with a brick chimney was made below. Then came the square chimneys of sheet iron, and then they became round, coming out a little behind the foremast from the galley hearth below. Ships such as the old man-of-war "Constitution" and frigates of 1776 were equipped in this way.

According to surviving records in 1757, a certain Gabriel Snodgrass, inspecting the British East India Company, at an audience with the Lords of the Admiralty, explained that on the ships of the East India Company they moved their galleys from the center of the hold to the bow of the ship. And Sir Walter Raleigh (English courtier, statesman, adventurer, poet and writer, historian, favorite of Queen Elizabeth I. He became famous for his privateer attacks on the Spanish fleet, for which he received (like Francis Drake) a knighthood in 1585 - approx. translator) objected as early as 1587 to a galley in the center of a ship's hold.

There is no doubt that the rocking of the ship was felt less below, but the smoke and smell spread throughout the ship, and in bad weather, when the hatches had to be nailed up so that water would not flow into them, working in the galley amid the smell of churned foul bilge water, smoke in a closed space and vapors of the food being prepared, was clearly not a gift.

The galley, located just aft of the foremast, and the chimney running through the upper deck, and the wide grate on the ceiling for the release of heat, made it unusually much easier to cook on the Indians compared to the old warships, which for many years adhered to the arrangement galley in the hold.

Ship sizes began to grow after 1800. Of course, there were several large ships before, but now we are talking about ordinary copies of merchant ships. Where the deck was empty before, poop and forecastle decks appeared. The advent of the forehouse freed sailors from their rat-like nests in the damp forepeak. At the ship’s “cook”, as the ship’s cook was called, at the same time, a bright and ventilated room also appeared in the aft part of this cabin, in which corned beef was cooked, stew was fried, pea soup and coffee were brewed, which, as sailors liked to say, cook cooks from old ground marine rubber boots.

On the three-masted schooner J. Percy Bartram, just behind the foremast was a small square deckhouse, in which the galley occupied the right side, and the cockpit on the left side in the stern. A narrow carpentry shop was located across the bow end with doors opening on each side. In both the cockpit and the galley, the door opened out to the stern, and there was a sliding panel in the partition between them so that food could be transferred from the galley to the cockpit without having to go outside. The "stove" chimney ran up through the roof and had a sharp bend at the top, made from a piece of pipe that the cook had to turn every time we changed tack. The outer end of this pipe rested on an iron fork-shaped support standing on the lee side under the fore-boom, and was located about a foot above the deckhouse roof.

On small coasters, such as schooners, brigs and brigantines, there was a small square galley box in which food was cooked. When preparing for sailing, this small box was lifted, placed on the main hatch and lashed to the eyelets on the deck, and when unloaded in port, it was placed on the deck on the bow to one of the sides.

It is enough to stand for a day in the galley to lose interest in cottage cheese, sour cream, in the first, in the second. You can only eat compote in the galley. It's made from dried fruits. There, perhaps only some dead worm swims, or, at worst, a messenger will climb into the lagoon with his sleeve ...
A. Pokrovsky "Cottage cheese"

The galley is the kitchen on the ship, for those who don't know. It cooks what the Navy calls food.
I met the galley at the military training camp after the fifth year of the institute. This is when students play soldiers for a whole month, in our case, sailors, so that after that they proudly press a machine gun to their chest and pronounce the words of the oath, and, having defended their diploma, they are no less proudly called reserve officers. Before that, they are forced to make even more unthinkable sacrifices for three whole years: one day a week to walk in blue jackets and not be late these days for the first couple. And all in order not to give two years of your life to the Motherland, and if you give these years, then at least with more weighty shoulder straps.
Of course, I knew the word "galley" before, and what it means too. And I even expected that on the training ship "Perekop" I would have to face a kind of lack of comfort, although our fees, in comparison with the real service, can be safely called rest in a boarding house with a beautiful view of the Petrovsky harbor of the city of Kronstadt. Nevertheless, the galley made an indelible impression on me, overshadowing the rustling under the bunks of rats, the smell of nineteen pairs of socks in the cockpit, the "dog watch"1 and snoring from neighboring berths. And there is also a latrine on the ship, but, so be it, we won’t talk about sad things at all.
It is worth mentioning the ship itself. "Perekop" - a trough of eight thousand tons of displacement, built in socialist Poland, was what is called "sluggish". That is, he did not go to sea. The technical condition did not allow. But it allowed to take on board any cadets in the amount of up to four hundred heads undergoing "ship practice", and on this occasion proudly be called a ship of the first rank, although the ship did not pull to this very rank in terms of displacement. The crew of "Perekop" consisted of a dozen officers and two dozen "lower ranks". Of the one hundred and seventeen laid down on the staffing table. The latter were without exception "year-olds" in the rank of not lower than the senior sailor.
His sistership Smolny was moored next to Perekop. He went to sea, had a full crew, and soon after the start of our training dumped in Germany with a load of cadets on board. The third steamer from their series - "Khasan" has long gone under the cutter.
And then we appeared at Perekop - the students of Korabelka. After loading onto the ship a motley crowd with trunks of clearly civilian appearance, this very crowd was forced to change into tired blue jackets that had to be worn on those days when it was impossible to be late for the first pair, and was called a company of cadets. We had to be boys in blue for a few more days, after which we were given work dresses. Our platoon was placed in a cockpit on the third deck on the port side, the portholes, as I said, opened up a view of Petrovsky harbor.
Immediately after the settlement, the distribution of outfits began. There were quite a few of them: a company duty officer, a dining room attendant (appointed from squad commanders), an orderly (two people), a dishwasher-washer (two people) and, finally, a galley worker (two people). Given that almost every day there was an order "for potatoes", half of the company did not have to be bored.
Our platoon commander Dima, without further ado, immediately assigned me to the galley together with the botanist Andryusha from the department of nuclear installations. For a whole month, he haunted me, consistently being my partner in all outfits. The whole stay in his own inner world, the steadfast rejection of the outside world, combined with incredible tediousness, made Andrei extremely difficult to communicate with.
- Well, Andryukha, let's go to work, - I told him, and we went to the galley, at the disposal of the foreman of the second category Zhenya, who occupies the high position of a cook on the ship.
I didn't have to go far. The galley was just opposite our cockpit on the starboard side. It was preceded by a small room with a bath, similar to those in which people take a bath, and here it was intended for storing peeled potatoes. There were also three sacks of root crops waiting for the cleansing ritual. The galley itself turned out to be a spacious room with white tiled walls and dirty brown again tiled floors. Cutting tables were located along the side, opposite them, closer to the diametrical plane, there was an even row of large metal boilers, and at the bow bulkhead there was a stove, a stump for chopping meat, a window into the dining room for transferring food and a large automatic meat grinder. On top of that, some pseudo-musical sounds were heard from the corner, there was a tape recorder.
Among all this splendor, besides Andryukha and me, I noticed four more living creatures: a little blond-haired cook Zhenya in a white robe, two sailors in vests and a large red cockroach crawling along the slab in the direction of the northwest. We immediately completely captured the attention of three of the above representatives of the fauna, only the cockroach continued to crawl about its business, not being distracted by trifles like us and Andrey.
- Boys, who will you be? Zhenya asked.
- Yes, here we are ... From the first platoon ... They sent us here ... - I was also slightly confused.
- Sent, you say. It's good that they sent here, and not on x ... - Zhenya said, and the sailors neighed. - Although, one x ..., what is there, what is here. Are you cadets?
- Yeah, cadets.
- Well, get hurt. Get to work. What's your name, by the way?
- Basil.
- Andrey.
- I'm Zhenya. This is Dima and Oleg, - he pointed to the sailors.
- Ahh ... What should I do?
- Here's a mop, here's a bucket, here's a rag, but here's the floor, - the one who was introduced by Oleg pointed to his feet. - Forward.
Andrew reached for the mop.
- Wait you, e... yours! Zhenya stopped him. - Get dressed first. Those blue jackets of yours are dress uniforms. You'll get dirty.
- Everyday, - I corrected him, and we went to the cockpit to change.
The expression "yo ... yours" in the Navy is not an insult at all, but simply an appeal to a person who is below you in the ranking table, or equal to you.
We could only change into tracksuits. Our meager wardrobe provided no other alternative.
- Oh, another thing! - Zhenya said when we returned to the galley. - Now to work.
Andrew and I looked at each other. Each of us wanted the floor to be washed not by him, but by a partner. For several seconds there was a silent struggle between us, a kind of game of "staring". In the end, Andryukha was the first to break down: with a sad sigh, he rolled up his sleeves, took a rag and dipped it in a bucket. Then he began to squeeze it diligently.
- Not this way! Oleg stopped him.
We stared at him in surprise.
- I explain. You, - he pointed at me, - are watering the deck from a bucket, and you are rubbing it with a mop.
Here Oleg and Dima demonstrated how it all should happen. The deck of the ship is not flat, but convex, so the hull is stronger, so all the dirt and waste products, along with water, were sent by gravity to the drainage hole in the deck near the side, which did not drain by itself, was pushed there with a mop. Further along the sewage system, all this turned out to be overboard.
- And now also from the bow bulkhead itself, - Kostya handed me a bucket, and Andrei a mop. - Fulfill!
We finished washing the deck pretty quickly. Andrey worked pretty well with a mop, but he was in too much of a hurry, as a result of which I splashed on his sneakers a couple of times.
- Now what? I asked when the work was finished.
“Nothing,” Zhenya said after some thought. - Rest for now.
Oleg brought from somewhere in the back room two chairs with broken backs for us, and placed them between the stove and the stump for chopping meat. After we sat on them, the sailors began to ask us who we are in general, and we them, how they are served. And it seemed to me that they served well. The sailors lived two by two in four-seater cockpits (after they were shown to us, not deluxe rooms, of course, but, nevertheless), they were regularly released on dismissal. "Unustav" was completely absent on the ship for two reasons: firstly, the officers carefully monitored the relations of the personnel; secondly, as I already said, all the conscripts were "years old", they had no one to drive.
While we were talking, Zhenya stood at the stove and conjured over our dinner tonight. A couple of times he asked us to draw water from the boiler into the large lagoon and drag it to the stove. So far, everything was not bad, except for the fact that a cassette was spinning in the tape recorder of the cabriolet group, his beloved wife. Those who have heard will understand, those who have not heard, listen and understand.
Soon Kostya, who was on duty in the company that day, ran to the galley. Behind him were Malaya and Lenya the billiard player. Both were wearing tracksuits.
- That's it, your shift is over, - Kostya turned to Andrey and me. - Now Malaya and Lyonya are stepping into the galley.
- What a pity, we just got a taste, - I feigned chagrin. - Let's go, Andryukha.
In the cockpit I changed my clothes and collapsed on a bunk with a book in my hands. I took a volume of Zhitinsky's fiction with me to the training camp, it should have been enough for me for a week, and they promised to let us go home for the weekend. My newly-minted "colleagues" for the most part sat in jars around two tables, on which bags of cookies and muffins were laid out in large quantities, and waited for the water to boil in an electric kettle. Despite the fact that our officers strongly recommended three meals a day in the dining room plus "evening tea", the process of eating all kinds of buns and "doshiraks" in the cockpit almost did not stop during the whole month. As a result, some of them returned from the training camp having recovered considerably.
Half an hour later, Kostya came running up again:
- B.. me, guys! Let's go back to the galley.
- Again we? I was surprised.
- You again. You have to work there until 5 pm tomorrow. I just got it all mixed up.
I had to put down the book and change clothes again, and then look for Andrei, who managed to dump somewhere. I found it on the port side waist, where we usually had formations during verifications. Andrei was sitting on the bollard, fixing his thoughtful gaze on the ferry departing from the pier.
- Andryukha! I turned to him. - Lafa is over. We went back to the galley.
- How so back to the galley?
- Silence. Easy and effortless. Kostyan mixed everything up, riveted Kulibin. Our labor service tomorrow until seventeen zero zero.
- Wait, who told you that?
- Yes, he said it himself. Blyakha fly, Andryukha, finish with tediousness and go to work. And do not sit on the bollard, you will earn rheumatism.
Andrey continued to be tedious for another five minutes. Our above dialogue was repeated three more times. In the end, I called Kostya. He was Spartan laconic and convincing:
- Fat, stop drinking ... and blow on the galley.
Zhenya and the sailors were very surprised when we returned again, drove Maly and Lenya out of the galley and expressed their readiness to work further.
- This is the baranism of our superiors, nothing special, - I told them, and they agreed with me.
Dinner was approaching. I was instructed to cut bread for the whole company, Andrey - to open cans.
I went to the rack with bread, took a white loaf. It was half covered with mold, and seemed to me somehow light. Turning the loaf in my hands, I found a small hole in it. Then I broke it in half. The pulp inside was almost completely absent.
- Rats, - I heard Oleg's voice from behind. - What, have you never seen how rats eat bread?
- Now I saw it.
"Take this bread," he pointed to another rack. - He seems to be better. And we'll throw this one to the seagulls.
I chose ten "better" loaves. Then he took a knife and carefully cut off all the mold, after which he began to cut the bread into slices. When I coped with my task, I had to help Andrey, he still could not get rid of the canned food. From the side of the window leading to the dining room, there were already excited exclamations, "let's eat" or something like that. Zhenya distributed buckwheat and jelly among the pots, we took them to the window, where they handed them over to the washers. Following the bowlers, tin cans and jelly were sent to the dining room.
- Will you eat yourself? Zhenya asked. - You're left here.
“We will,” I replied, “of course we will.
We went to the cockpit for our mugs and spoons, and they gave us bowls that replaced plates. Subsequently, they began to buy disposable plastic utensils. Andrey and I washed our hands right in the galley, from the boiler. In general, it was very hard on the ship with water, as, indeed, in all of Kronstadt. She was given three times a day for five minutes, just at the time when all the personnel should be in the dining room. Even in the evening it was possible to run to PESh2 and, having treated the officer on duty with a cigarette, beg for water in the shower. Oh, if you knew how kind and helpful a Russian sailor becomes if you treat him to a cigarette.
We had to eat, holding bowls on our knees. But instead of jelly, orange juice splashed in our mugs, and instead of stew of some seventy years of production, quite fresh herring lay in a bowl. Zhenya snatched all this for us from the officer's dinner.
Andrey and I did not enjoy our privileged position for long. Coverers-washers began to return the kettles to the galley, which we had to wash. They themselves washed only the bowls, and they had detergents purchased in advance for this. We, on the other hand, had to wash pots and tear off burnt porridge in the lagoon, having only cold water available. In the only boiler in which the heater worked, the water ran out, and it was not possible to replenish its reserves earlier than in the morning.
There were no particular problems with the bowlers, after rubbing with a rag, rinsing and not very close visual inspection, one could assume that they were clean. With the lagoon, everything turned out much more seriously, the burnt buckwheat did not want to part with it. Finally, I could not stand it, went to the dining room and took away the "Fairy" from the washers-washers of our platoon. Strongly, of course, it is said - took away, rather, borrowed, especially since they were already finishing their work. Andrey and I still had to do good to the company with “evening tea”.
In addition to the traditional breakfast, lunch and dinner, the ship provided "evening tea". Exactly at twenty zero zero, the personnel of the company (more precisely, those who could be found) were driven to the dining room for the fourth time that day and handed each a glass of tea and white bread and butter. Personally, I was rarely found, at this time I preferred to play table tennis in the training room, which was located on the deck above. And I could drink a cup of normal tea with a normal bun without mold at any time of the day or night, if I wanted to.
Zhenya told us to take the lagoon that had just been washed from buckwheat, pour a large pack of tea into it, draw water and put it on fire. After that, I cut the bread again, and Andrei divided the butter into each of the four platoons. When the liquid in the lagoon began to boil, we lowered it to the floor, and Zhenya began pouring tea into the pots with a huge aluminum ladle.
After "evening tea" the company was to have an "evening walk". Once I saw what it is. People line up in platoons in two columns, and they wind circles around the pier. While our comrades were “walking”, Andrey and I once again washed pots and lagoons.
"That's almost all for today," Zhenya said. - It remains to wash the deck and are free until tomorrow. Come here tomorrow at six.
Before going to bed, I amused myself by going to the parade for the lowering of the flag, although I could not do this, since I was officially on duty.

The rise on the ship at exactly six in the morning, but already ten minutes before the appointed time in the cockpit began to be heard the roar of lockers being pulled out from under the berths. Some comrades seemed to be unable to sleep, and they were in a hurry to start a new day as soon as possible.
I opened my eyes and found myself on the bottom bunk attached to me, lying on my back. The first thing I saw was the face of my friend Sanya, our company foreman. He leaned over from the top bunk and looked at me. I looked for a long time, probably trying to remember where I had seen this sleepy, wrinkled face before.
- Vietnamese3! he finally said. - Why did you drink me at night ... l?
- Didn't understand? “Then I didn’t really understand him.
Understanding came to me a little later. The fact is that Sanyok is the owner of a very dense build, and the bed under him sagged significantly. Therefore, tossing and turning in my sleep, I always hit him with my knee, then with my shoulder.
- The command to stand up, fill the beds! - the ship's loudspeaker announced.
I got up from my bunk, stood on the cold, blue-linoleum deck with bare feet, and began to dress. All my comrades, like me, put on tracksuits, they had morning exercises on the pier. I looked out the window. Behind him was a gloomy, damp morning. There was not a soul on the embankment. Only a huge gray cat, defying the weather, sat on the tank of a minesweeper moored nearby and washed. At that moment, I thought, it's very good that I don't have to go along with everyone to the pier.
The galley door was locked. But Andrei and I did not really have time to be happy about this circumstance, Zhenya came and opened it. Once inside, I heard some rustle and rumble of dishes falling to the floor. It was the rats, who were in charge of the galley in the absence of a man, who sensed his approach and began to scatter in their holes. I even managed to notice a bald rat's tail in one of the corners.
- Why don't you get a cat? I asked Zhenya. - There is one on the minesweeper, I just saw it myself.
- By the way, I asked them to borrow a cat for a week. More is not necessary. Then everyone will start feeding him, he will become insolent and stop catching rats. So far, they don't.
Zhenya put his favorite cassette of "Cabriolet" into the tape recorder, pressed "play" and began to give orders. He ordered Andrei to cut bread, and he pointed to a cast-iron frying pan covered with an impressive layer of fat:
- At night, these goats, Dima and Oleg, fished and fried. Wash it off please.
I spent about an hour washing this pan. Again, I had only cold water at my disposal, and there was no one to ask for Fairy. In fact, the pan remained oily. I pushed it as far as possible so that the coca would be less visible. Then he tried in vain to wash his hands of fat.
While I was fiddling with the frying pan, Andrei managed to peel the onion, and now he was getting Zhenya with the question of where to put the lumps.
- Without a fawn in the light, - the cook answered smiling.
- Where?
- Yes, you throw everything into the lumik, only carefully, - Zhenya clarified.
- Where where?
In the end, he had to take the bowl from Andrei and demonstrate how to deal with it. He went to the porthole, stuck his head out, made sure that no one seemed to be looking from the Smolny towards the sistership, and poured the contents of the bowl overboard.
Oleg brought briquettes of powdered jelly from somewhere, poured them out on the table and began to show me what to do with them:
- You take a mallet and h...chish on a pack. So, - followed by several powerful blows to the briquette. “Now you unwrap it, knead it, and throw it into the lagoons.
I had no choice but to knead the pinkish powder with my greasy hands. One consolation, I definitely won’t drink this jelly.
When Andrey and I were enjoying washing up the lagoons after breakfast, an officer with the epaulettes of a lieutenant commander, looking like an angry gopher, ran into the galley. His righteous anger was directed at cook Zhenya:
- Zhenya, what the f… was not at the raising of the flag?!
- Uhh ... Trisch lieutenant commander, I haven’t heard a big gathering ...
- Don't p...di! You heard everything perfectly! In addition, he himself must keep track of time.
- Seriously not heard! Zhenya also raised her voice. - And in general, I can’t move away from the stove, I have to feed a company of parasite cadets! That's all for x ... I'll drop it and go raise the flag!
- You, I see, comrade foreman of the second article, absolutely oh ... and, - the officer suddenly switched to "you", - you will be punished.
- Fuck it! - Zhenya snapped and turned to the stove.
Cap-lei also turned and left. I was shocked. So much for discipline and subordination.
- I have three months left before demobilization, - Zhenya caught my puzzled look. - No, he won't do it to me.
A few minutes later, another commander appeared in the galley, a lower rank - a senior midshipman. But it was in front of him that Zhenya almost stood at attention.
- So, - said the senior midshipman, looking around. - Whom are you here for ... th?
When the boss threatens to “fuck out” a subordinate, you should not believe him. He cannot do this, this type of punishment is not provided for by the disciplinary charter.
The look of the senior midshipman stopped at Andrei and me.
- Who are they? - he asked.
- Stu ... uh ... GMTU cadets, - I tried to make my face more serious just in case. - At military training here.
- Yeah! Cadets! The senior midshipman perked up noticeably. - Come on, follow me guys!
He took us to the hold. It was very damp there, the lights were barely on. On the shelves and racks there were a huge number of tin cans, and on the deck there were bags with various cereals and potatoes.
Once every two or three days, a food van drove up to the ship from the warehouse of the Leningrad Naval Base, and the food hold was replenished. Almost all of our company was assigned to unload the car. It was very profitable to participate in this event: those who showed special zeal and zeal, the midshipman could reward something, say, with two cans of condensed milk. And if you combine a couple more cans of condensed milk, it turned out to be four cans ... However, it’s not for me to teach you arithmetic.
- Yes, if we are torn off the pier, we will not die of hunger, - I estimated the amount of provisions. - The ship has a large autonomy in terms of food supplies.
- That's right - agreed senior midshipman. - Only if there are no cadets. These will devour everything in no time. So, guys, we each take a bag of potatoes and drag them to the bathroom, you know where it is.
A few days later, a company of cadets appeared on the ship, and I was convinced that he was not joking. The Cadets are an eternally hungry people, unlike us, they always demanded supplements in the canteen, while, like us, they constantly chewed something in the cockpit. Once I myself saw how the mother and father of one of them drove right to the gangway in the Opel and handed their child two healthy packages of food. He could not bring them to his cockpit, his comrades tore these packages to pieces even in the corridor.
The sack of potatoes, which I had to carry three decks higher, weighed about the same as myself. Andrei and I rightly reasoned that it would be much more convenient to drag one bag together and then return for another. And then we nearly broke down. And when they went for the second bag, the door to the hold was already locked. We cannot say that we were very upset by this circumstance.
All day long we washed something, dragged it, scrubbed it, cut it, cleaned it, and washed it again. And all under the endless roulades of the Cabriolet group. When our relievers from the second platoon arrived at seventeen zero zero, I realized that on this ship I was no longer afraid of anything.
And then I didn’t drink jelly for three days.

Penultimate day of collection. I'm a galley worker again. Andryusha is my partner again. I have just cut bread, I am sitting on a stump for chopping meat, watching the Cadets wash the porridge from the porridge. Now they do all the dirty work. Next to me is a tape recorder, I rearrange the cassettes, so I work as a DJ. I hid the cassette with the Cabriolet as far as possible. I wonder if Zhenya found her later at all?
The guys from the second platoon with a video camera appear in the galley, fix the events “for history”. I bring them to the table for cutting bread, take a loaf with a hole in the side, break it in half and bring it close to the camera lens:
- Here, the products of vital activity of rats.
- I also ask you to note that the bread is moldy, - says the "director" of the film to his "cameraman".
They leave, I return to the starting position. Andrey comes up to me:
- We need to open cans.
- You don't see, I'm busy, - I change the "Kino" cassette to "The King and the Jester" in the tape recorder and press "play".
The officer on duty comes running:
All orders for today have been cancelled. Everyone was ordered to put themselves in order, to prepare for the oath.
- And what are we going to eat for dinner? - the head of the dining room attendant appears in the window.
- Who ordered? I ask the attendant.
- Hakobyan.
- Ahh... Hakobyan...
Captain of the first rank Hakobyan is a serious person. If he ordered, you must obey. I leave both attendants to argue with each other, I myself go to the shower. Our war games are coming to an end. Tomorrow the oath, and home.
_________________________
1 Watch period from 3.00 to 7.00 am. At this time, I really want to sleep. I propped up the door with a stool so that the checking officer would not suddenly come in, and lay down, without undressing, on top of the blanket.
2 Post energy and survivability.
3 One of my nicknames. Hu Do Shin.

Admiral hour - lunch break during which seafarers are allowed to sleep.
Tank - the bow of the ship (vessel).
combat post - a place with military weapons and technical equipment.
Warhead - a unit of the ship's crew that performs certain tasks.
combat service - a form of daily operational activity of the forces of the fleet in peacetime.
"Battle Leaf" - a type of handwritten wall leaflet, which contains an information about the successes in the combat and political training of the personnel of the ship (unit).
"Battle number" - a pocket book in which the duties of a sailor (foreman) are recorded in accordance with all ship schedules.
"Big Gathering" - the formation of the ship's personnel when the flag is raised, during naval parades, at meetings of officials, etc.
brigade - tactical connection of homogeneous ships.
"Bull" - the commander of the combat unit of the ship.
"Govnodavy" - blunt big shoes.
Gaff - an inclined rail, fixed at the top of the mast, used to lift and carry the St. Andrew's flag on the move.
Lip - guardhouse.
Ship division - the lowest tactical formation of homogeneous ships of the third and fourth ranks.
Division of ships - a tactical formation consisting of ships of the first rank or brigades and divisions of ships of lower ranks.
Doc doctor (ship's doctor).
Oak trees - an ornament on the peaks of the caps of senior officers of the fleet.
Zhvaka-gals - attachment point of the end of the anchor chain to the ship's hull. The phrase "poison to the gum-tack" means - to release the anchor chain to the end.
IDA-59 - individual breathing apparatus.
Katorang - Captain 2nd rank.
Galley - kitchen on the ship (vessel).
Kaperang - captain of the 1st rank.
Cook - a cook on a ship (vessel).
Coaming - the protection of doors, hatches, mouths protecting from hit in the internal premise of water.
Stern - the back of the ship (vessel).
"Reds" - in red on the plan of the exercise they indicate the actions of their forces.
Cockpit - accommodation for sailors on the ship (vessel).
Cap - Commander of the ship.
"Linden" - Deliberate deception.
Binnacle - magnetic compass stand.
"Ocean" - an electronic simulator designed to visually display the situation during an operational-tactical game.
Periscope - an optical device for monitoring the surface and air situation from a submerged submarine.
Forecastle - elevation of the hull above the upper deck in the bow of the ship.
PJ - post energy and survivability.
Sliding stop - a device for reinforcing bulkheads or tightly pressing the patch when sealing a hole in the side of the ship.
Locker - a chest (locker) on the ship, where the team's personal belongings are stored.
"Blue" - blue color on the exercise plan indicates the actions of the enemy forces.
Submarine - Submarine.
"Shilo" - alcohol.