Hush! It is the pirated minute of Bernard M. It has the flavor, the distinguished humor and the literary elegance, but… it is only a copy.
On board, some people ask me how to satisfy a pressing need when the rough seas and the unpredictable movements of Enjoy make access to the luxurious sanitary facilities of the vessel as perilous as a rodeo on a young bull very angry with the moron who clings to his back.
It’s very simple, two cases arise for normal people: either you want to urinate or you want to defecate. The case of an irrepressible urge to vomit has already been treated on the official minute, with a very simple solution suitable for everyone, regardless of sex, religion or other beliefs, intellectual capacity or skin color. We won’t be going back there.
In the case of an urge to pee, it’s even simpler. There are two cases: either you are one of the two percent of men who have sea legs, or you are learning.
First, carefully study the periphery of the ship you are on. Many points of support are at your disposal. Choose the position that feels most comfortable to you. It doesn’t matter if you receive sea waves in the face, the important thing is to be comfortable. Don’t forget to open your pants and pull out the hose before dumping the juice overboard. If you have chosen an adequate position, downwind, the drops which could have accidentally strayed onto the deck will be rinsed away in a second by an understanding surge, thus avoiding the exhausting chore of fetching a bucket from the bottom of the hold. I told you, it’s the easiest solution. But if, as Bernard M. has the right to do for having crossed the Cabo de Hornos, you have chosen a windward position, congratulating yourself on escaping the rinsing of your feet with each wave, it is your urine that will reach you in full mouth. It’s your choice, it’s just as respectable, as long as the rappelling crew doesn’t benefit as well.
Second case. Your digestive system has understood that it was arriving in a hostile environment, from the first days of cruising. Unaware of the duration of the latter, he freed you from his daily insistence and was discreet to give you time to get used to it. Sitting on the onboard basin, so comfortable on those first enchanting days, was pointless, and your training in the complex use of drain valves was useless. However, there always comes a time when, as in an overheated pressure cooker, the pressure gets too high and the safety valve begins to twitch vigorously, usually in conjunction with tougher weather conditions. Listen to your body, and don’t delay. Go carefully but quickly to the place that your skipper will have designated during the “safety” briefing. He religiously gathers there all the equipment and devices intended to save his crew and his skin in the event of divine adversity. He will have explained to you at length the fitting of survival vests, trained in handling the harness carabiner with one hand, designated the location and operation of fire extinguishers, repeated several times the procedure for evacuating the ship about to sink. (while wisely adding that “it never happens”), but did he tell you what he uses pinoches for? Did he even mention that evocative word of poetry, imbued with the scent of yesteryear? However, it is these small pieces of wood, each cut into cones of a different diameter, which will protect your pants and the crew from this nauseating and tenacious odor. They were invented by a famous French police inspector who was the first to use them, during one of his many adventures that would take too long to mention here. And as our popular inspector, nicknamed Pinuche, was also not very handsome, a jealous person designated the life-saving object “Pinuche-ugly”, before Bernard M. seized it in his turn in his very personal way. and turns it into a “pinoche”. The most discerning among you will have already understood that you have to measure your asshole, choose a pinoche two sizes above to ensure a perfect seal and shove it deep and upside down, as described. the diagram below.
It was the pirated minute of Bernard M., stuffed with essential tips for the conscientious sailor.

Jean Paul