Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) download full album zip cd mp3 vinyl flac
In its centre was an expensive bottle of alcohol port or sherry. He then demonstrated how it was pushed around the magnificent dining table so each guest could replenish their glass when needed. The pity was, he did not offer anyone a tipple from the bottle! It originated in sailing ships when the mainbrace was a very difficult knot to splice.
Sometimes, it had to be done during a naval battle when the ship was under attack. Only the most skilled sailors were able to complete this hazardous undertaking — it involved much teamwork. When the hands finished the job they received a tot of grog.
Grog was watered down rum. It had to be watered down because it was She continued this practise until the Britannia was decommissioned in May Britannia no longer rules the waves, but is moored at Leith, Edinburgh and open to the public. This is based upon a seafaring term. Therefore, to have three sheets in the wind is to be really out of control.
Having drunk all that booze, it is now time to face the consequences. If any sailor got too blotto on board, then he ran the risk of being punished. This could take many forms and these beating expressions have ended up in our everyday lingo. Please do not worry — any cat-loving friends out there — no cats will be harmed in this article! On the old sailing ships there was not enough room below decks to swing the whip.
That is why beatings were administered on deck. This kind of cruel whip was used in many different countries around the Mediterranean. Each of the nine strands of the whip was knotted at the end. Sometimes a small piece of birch twig was tied on each strand. The number of lashes ranged from a dozen for drunkenness to one thousand for mutiny.
This sort of flogging was meted out in both the British Army and Royal Navy. Even in civil prisons, it was not formally abolished as a punishment for crimes of violence until The gangway itself has long held an important place aboard even primitive vessels. And the expression may have even been used aboard slave galley ships. The gangway was the boarded gap between the rowers. It allowed movement from stem to stern.
Equally, the whip-master-general could easily lash the rowers who were not rowing hard enough. His job was to beat a rhythm on a drum or large gong so the rowers could keep time together and all pull their oars in harmony. But the drum was not the only thing he beat. You might have heard about one particular cruel and evil-minded slave driver. Once a year upon his birthday he picked on a poor slave, tied him to the gong and beat his chest with the heavy hammer. One slave, Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette), who had been aboard for many years, was a bit crafty.
As he was being dragged forward for the annual birthday beating he grabbed a handful of grease tallow and lathered it all over his chest. Every time the slave driver hit him, his hammer just had no effect, and slid off into the air. Traditionally, however, it was a remark that greeted any tall story — and engendered an air of disbelief. The Royal source, however, is interesting. However, a Royal Marine, who was standing close by, confirmed that it was true.
And if an upstanding, trusted Royal Marine believed the yarn, then it must have some validity. Apparently, some British prisoners of war were forced by the Japanese in WWII to broadcast a message to their fellow soldiers that everything was fine. Some sources even suggest that this form of torture dates back to the Greeks — an image having been depicted on a vase. In practice, however, it was virtually a death sentence. It involved attaching the miscreant to a rope and dragging him under the hull of the sailing ship — which was usually covered in sharp barnacles.
If he was lucky, he might drowned before being cut to pieces in a blood-soaked death. Today, it means to be rebuked in a very severe manner. It originated from an Old Testament Hebrew prophet called Jonah. God instructed him to go to Nineveh and preach repentance. He disobeyed and tried to escape by sea, but during a violent storm he was blamed for the tempest and thrown overboard by the crew.
A great fish usually described as a whale is said to have swallowed him whole. Three days later, Jonah was regurgitated and eventually completed his mission for God. The opposite of being thrown off a ship is to be dragged on to one.
Gullible landlubbers were sometimes tricked into going on board merchant ships, usually heading to Shanghai — then put to work in appalling conditions. As the British Empire expanded rapidly, so the need for more ships and sailors grew. Demand outstripped supply. That is why Shanghaiing and press-ganging was so frequent in British ports. Even young orphan lads were taken from workhouses and shipped off to sea — few knowing what fate had in store.
It was a call to the hands to get out of their hammocks. Its naval origin is unexpected. In Royal Navy sailing ships women unofficially slept on board.
It evokes a powerful if somewhat perplexing image. It also has a colourful origin. It is used in a jocular vein to describe someone who is a bit of a rogue.
But what is its saucy origin? There was much heavy drinking and debauchery on the gun decks. I have no idea what was written if a baby girl was delivered. I used to joke that this phrase was a religious axiom meaning a boy born to a Canon in the Church of England. Reporters seem, however, to be corrupting this nautical expression. Actually, it did originate during World War Two. It was adopted up by the U. Marines from a Chinese team of workers who worked as a cooperative in a harmonious way.
Therefore, a crewmember had only one hand free to help anyone else. But when you think about it, it is difficult for anyone to applaud with one hand! Our everyday expressions, as already seen, can be a bit odd at times. A chance was taken in full awareness that, if caught in the act, would result in serious consequences. In the Royal Navy, during Victorian times, an officer might face a court martial and demotion if disobeying the rules.
Things like air pockets that vibrations hadn't reached, aggregate that hadn't been properly mixed, and the rough joints where Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) material had pushed the molds unevenly, creating jogs in the otherwise monotonous walls. Most of those, however, were just cosmetic.
It was the large cracks from the growing geological stresses on the facility that worried Harry, and the moisture seeping into those cracks, slowly but surely eroding the reinforcing steel hidden within. As dire as that sounded, the structural integrity of this place wasn't even close to being on the top of his to-do list right now.
Several sections of the screen flashed red over a plan view of the facility, while even more glowed a dull orange. The red obviously needed immediate attention. The source of his rude awakening. He rubbed a calloused hand over his stubble. A rare but most welcome shave some three days prior. Usually, the wizard sported a beard that could rival that of his long-departed headmaster. In a flurry of movements, his fingers danced over the glass interface, gathering more information on the malfunction messages.
He paused at one point, and the frown he'd woken up with deepened even more. I just fixed this section yesterday! Another few minutes passed while he compiled a workload for the day, which was transferred to a rectangular datapad.
With a better idea of what his workday looked like, the former British Wizard got dressed. Black standard issue combat boots, cargo pants, a plain white tee. A far cry from the clothes he'd come to favor back when he'd been enrolled in the Auror Corps. Those garments had all but fallen apart a long time ago, charms or no.
What he wore now had been found in a dusty old Pelican case, courtesy of the US military, who'd banded together with the United Kingdom to build this place. Finishing the look was a specially made gauntlet he latched onto his arm.
Inside the small space rested three very special items. They'd allowed him to watch over this place for as long as he had. Granted him a body that could not die, though he was beginning to wonder if the mind was another matter.
The regular self-obviations he performed regarding the more mundane things helped. Harry estimated he'd read and re-read the contents of the Hogwarts library Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) dozen times over just in volume alone.
Of course useful content like that he didn't just wipe. But Novels, works of fiction were another story. Fortunately, the muggles had lots of those to occupy himself with. But as mentioned before in recent years that downtime happened less and less as the man-made structure began to waste away under time's relentless assault.
He donned a thick winter coat that had patches overtop of patches, with little of the original material left visible, and applied heating charms to himself. His quarters were near the top of the underground base.
Originally they had been lower, but the time it took to ascend the thousand or more feet of staircases elevators drew power after all he could have already been to the surface and fixing whatever needed fixing. The surface, right. Not a very nice place. Harry, of course, didn't know the full story of the hows and whys, and probably never would.
Bottom line was that Earth was gripped in an ice age, the likes of which humanity had never experienced. Before the last of the nuclear-powered muggle satellites went dark, they'd established that all of Earth, right down to the equator was covered in thick ice sheets.
The muggles thought it was because of pollution that blocked much of the sun's rays. Others theorized that the rapid climate change Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) the jet stream to migrate further south. Reflective ice claimed the northern regions of Europe and much of Asia. More light reflected meant less heat absorbed. Whatever the reason, they had enough foresight to prepare. The ice grew outward, creeping down the lower latitudes like an unstoppable bulldozer.
Harry had been assigned to the British Prime minister early on in his career, chosen in part because of his familiarity with the Muggles, and as such was more aware of the planet's inevitable demise than most magicals. The few wizards that listened to his warnings were more than welcomed, considered invaluable for their abilities.
But for the most part, the closed-mindedness of his magical brethren proved to be their downfall. Last time he'd been there, the deep vaults of Gringotts were all that was left.
Mile thick ice slabs had physically abraded the Islands of the United Kingdom down below sea level, had the sea actually been liquid at that point. Only the lowest caverns remained, packed to the ceiling with humans, goblins and various other species. The base, like the bank, was of course deep underground. Far enough that the abrasive glaciers that soon dotted the landscape could not reach.
Their slow passage could be heard through the solid rock, a steady grinding sound that never ceased. To him, it felt as though they were grinding away at his psyche, and even the most honed of Occumency shields could not keep his sanity intact.
After a while, it simply became background noise. Powered by geothermal energy, in theory, this place could have functioned forever. Everything was recycled. Water, air, waste. Greenhouses grew food, bunkers full of seeds would provide the building blocks of a future after the ice.
But the size of the structure meant that only a limited amount of people could dwell here. Enough to keep a viable gene pool and carry on watching over and maintaining the staggeringly huge number of souls Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) in the adjacent cryo storage facility. Ten thousand people. It had been planned well and did work for many years. The facility had been carved from the relatively new igneous rock formed by Iceland's lava flows.
An area rich in thermal springs due to the close proximity of the hot mantle under their feet. Power was drawn from this hot core by pumping water down and harnessing the steam that shot back up. Harry had learned a lot about how muggles generated electricity in those first few years.
But the lines were severed. Some of the scientists speculated that with the huge weight of the ice on the tectonic plates were shifting in ways they couldn't even begin to model. No steam meant to power. They'd tried to majik the turbines to spin without the power of the core, but without lay lines to power and sustain the spells it was impossible. Harry and the other Wizards and Witches felt the magic of the planet fluctuate wildly as the lines themselves shifted.
Hogwarts, or Various - Shiver Me Timbers Two (Cassette) was left of it was undoubtedly not even over an intersecting pair of the powerful lines anymore. The shaking was intense and oftentimes prolonged, events occurring multiple times every day for months. Were it not for the strengthening runes carved on the concrete walls the base would have been surely destroyed. Several other countries had similar facilities as well.
The surface communication lines were severed during the prolonged event. They opted to use massive nuclear reactors, stockpiling tones of enriched uranium and plutonium that had a half-life of tens of thousands of years.
But there had no way of knowing for sure, or of contacting them. Seismic Morse code was one option they'd tried, at least with the French Base nearby.
But after days of repeating the message the decision was made to conserve power. One by one the maintenance populace went to sleep, perhaps for the last time. Eventually, only Harry remained. But that was back when calendars meant something. And even atomic-powered clocks only lasted so long.
An ever-moving mechanical clock with gears and cogs then. Yes, That could work. Too bad he hadn't thought of it sooner. But then again who could blame him? After all, something as trivial as telling time wasn't exactly a high priority when trying to save the human race, magical and muggle alike.
All available power went to the chambers, meaning only essential systems were active. Heck, for most of the day he didn't even have life support. Not a big deal when one human had several hundred thousand cubic feet of breathable air. The scrubbers more than made up for his usage in the few hours they operated.
And heat? Well, being several kilometers inside the crust the temperature was actually rather nice. A design concept no doubt. The base was a constant twenty-three degrees centigrade. Room temperature. Harry, not for the first time considered waking one of his colleagues from long term cryo storage, both for the help and the chance to finally converse with someone after unknown years of social isolation.
Despite not knowing exactly how long he'd alone, the number of years must have been quite substantial. He squashed the thought. Power in the ancient facility was already critically low. A sudden spike in consumption might be enough to cripple the entire grid.
No, he couldn't risk it. Harry opened the heavy latch at the top of the ladder that led to the emergency air shaft. He shook his head, once again done weighing the pros and cons of human company. The main entrance had long ago been sheared away by the advancing ice slabs. Technically the air shaft had as well. Early on the remaining magicals had sealed the top with a granite block cork and tunneled sideways towards the nearest mountain peak. Constantly vanishing the solid rock had taken weeks, but as suspected, the peaks were bare, untouched by the mass of ice slowing passing below.
With a connection to the surface, the ever-present sun could once more be tapped for power. Thick glass plates shielded the solar panels from the elements, allowing their reflective blue surfaces to track the sun's progress through the sky.
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