…I don’t even know if his name is written correctly.
He came from Scheveningen a place near The Hague.
I met this colossal man on the aft deck of the ‘Utrecht’.
He was a greaser on board, but I remember him as the man who was always playing with his, so named ‘nails’.
One in each hand and he brought it over his head countless times.
‘A little exercise to keep fit’, he puffed.
I must be able to do that too.
After Mink had left the nails alone, I also took one.
I lay flat on deck right away.
Those things were heavy!
Nails on the poop.
I got even more respect for him.
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