Irish Ferries, Dublin Port, Ireland. [Captain of Ulysses disgustingly coarse and Master-at-Arms shockingly drunk.]

A Master-at-Arms who was legless and a Captain aggressively defending a snarling imbecile

The disgustingly coarse Captain and ignoramus staff on Ulysses give very good indication of the type of imbecile that’s to be found in rural Ireland.

I got yet another dose of atrocious Pict civility aboard Irish Ferries' Ulysses while travelling from Holyhead to Dublin. Having boarded this boat in Wales I approached reception in order to collect the pass-card to my cabin.

When I offered the receipt that entitled me to this cabin the receptionist, instead of accepting it in a civil manner, snapped it like a feral dog would snap a piece of meat – she accompanied this act of viciousness with a vicious snarl.

This type of behaviour isn’t unusual in Ireland; lack of competent management, and shamelessness, means the numerous imbeciles can act insultingly and aggressively and not only get away with it but have their vile actions reinforced by their superiors.  

A ship’s Captain and crew who’d shock.

It was about 3am and I being tired didn’t take this very well. I loudly gave this Paddy-moron a piece of my mind; described her in various terms that included half-wit, moron, tramp, ugly bitch, and more that I can’t remember.

She didn’t take kindly to having the abuse returned so she called the Master-at-Arms (ship’s chief of security). He duly appeared and in true Oirish fashion he was as drunk-as-a-lord; I don’t mean tipsy, he was practically staggering.

Still enraged at the behaviour of the ugly receptionist and flabbergasted that the Master-at-Arms was extremely inebriated I threatened to take my vehicle of this floating den of Irish imbeciles. This chap, though, turned out to be a non-violent drunk – probably just wanted to be left alone to get even more legless – and staggeringly brought me down to the vehicle’s deck.

They were still loading the ferry; my vehicle was boxed in by numerous other vehicles, and I didn’t want the delay that removal of vehicle would incur.

Plus listening to the babbling of the drunken security man had calmed me down. I thus decided that having made my point I’d return to the lounge and have a coffee – and do my utmost at a later date to get the inbred receptionist fired.

You might reckon that, at least for this night, it would have been the end of the imbecility; if you do you’ve had no experience of Ireland.

While trying to find a lounge or coffee shop I passed the reception where I had encountered the nutcase receptionist; and now, also in this area, was the ferry’s Captain. Unprompted he asked me what the problem was and I told him about the receptionist’s hyena-type snapping and snarling.

Did this Irish captain show his intelligence and civility by saying that he’d investigate the incident, i.e., check the CCTV recordings, question the Master-at-Arms, and try to find out what actually had occurred?

Like fuck he did, this Paddy arsehole actually snarled this response: ‘she wouldn’t do that’, and then continued, ‘you can’t take your vehicle of the ship ... you can’t do that’.

I responded first by asking him, ‘are you drunk like the Master-at-arms’, and then by threatening him that, ‘if I call the Welsh police they might be very interested in the inebriated state of your head-of-security.

This arrogant paddy-moron wasn’t accustomed to being talked back to, and his response was to walk away muttering like an imbecilic Irish moron.

Sometimes with hindsight I’m sorry that I didn’t call the police. I’m sure if they had went aboard and found the Master-at-Arms in an extreme state of drunkenness it would, at least, have caused the Captain serious difficulties – which might have taught him to check things out before opening his fatuous mouth.

The mongrel Oirish receptionist, with management like this, simply wouldn’t know any better. I often wondered if the Captain’s unquestioning defence of her was because she was taking care of some of his carnal needs – she looked the type of whore who’d roll her knickers down whenever in the vicinity of a uniform or a wad-of-notes.

Would a captain on a British or French vessel be shameless and moronic enough to defend a receptionist without first investigating what happened? The answer is, of course, no because these people have breeding which imbues common sense.