Almost ready, sir,' said the sweating, harassed bosun. 'I'm working the cunt-splice myself.'

'Well,' said Jack, hurrying off to where the stern-chaser hung poised above the Sophie's quarter-deck, ready to plunge through her bottom if gravity could but have its way, 'a simple thing like a cunt-splice will not take a man of war's bosun long, I believe.

Patrick O'Brian

Stichwörter: innuendo nautical-terminology

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