- leading to the famous "Lunchpack of Rotterdam" incident. 
It had its sorry beginnings when we ended up a packed lunch short one day; causing much angst for the last person to arrive, who missed out. Somebody (Alan Dutton?) dubbed it the 'Lunchpack of Rotterdam' incident, which immediately evolved into numerous Lon Chaney impersonations by all and sundry. (Well, it was funny to begin with, but palled after it had been reprised a number of times by Robin Davies over the subsequent days as the lunches were distributed - and indeed for many years afterwards, as the episode was recounted over a beer in the Wardie).
The other catch phrase,
gadanga-danga, was coined by Steve Herra. When crossing any of the major thoroughfares in Rotterdam, one had to negotiate, firstly a dedicated bike lane, then the tram tracks, followed by the busy road; again crossing tram tracks in the opposite direction and another bicycle path, before reaching the safety of the footpath on the other side. As typical seafarers we would launch ourselves across the various lanes oblivious to the traffic and disdainful of pedestrian crossings which were favoured by the timid shoresiders. In describing this daunting feat, Steve provided the progressive sound effects of our crossing emanating from the outraged vehicles:
ding-a-ling-a-ling;
gadanga-danga-danga;
beep, beep; beep, beep; gadanga-danga-danga; ding-a-ling-a-ling.Well, it was hilariously funny at the time, but I guess you had to be there. I think it was first recounted the night we spent in a local hostelry where they had a competition to pour the perfect pils from the tap - a difficult task given the frothiness of the local brew. Several purserettes entered the competition and I think at least one received an honourable mention. A good night was had by all, but with one slightly embarrassing episode. A member of the QE2 group, carried away with the frivolity of the evening, rang the ship's bell hanging at the bar. Immediately a silence fell over the pub. Little did he realise the Dutch custom - it was a signal you were buying a round for all in the bar (about 50 people at that time). The tradition of 'ringing the bell' was explained by the landlord, and our shipmate was excused the penalty, given he was an ignorant Englander; though there were mutterings and scowls directed at our group by the locals. Yet again 'Jolly Jack ashore' let the side down as an emissary of England. But I know it was not the first time in the history of seafaring, and I'm sure not the last.
Anyway, it was a refit with very fond memories.
