I got totally pissed on the smell of that stuff when I were t'lad. I was CPO's mess man and I had to collect the rum, in a covered fanny, from the rum store.
Just as I was about to collect the couple of gallons for the Chiefs, the cask ran out and a new one had to be broached. This, together with all of the paperwork (if you thing SSADM involved lots of paper, just try opening a barrel of pussers rum) meant that I was standing in the alcohol laden rum store room air for nearly twenty minutes.
For an innocent junior such as wot I wus (and still am, I'll have you know!) this was a little too much. I was pissed, rat arsed, out of my tiny tree.
I staggered back to the Chiefs mess with the two gallons of rum in its fanny and was promptly accused of stealing some of the rum on the way over. I had motive, it was rum, and opportunity, I was twenty minutes later than normal, and they had proof, I was pissed. Court Marshal time.
Fortunately a calmer head than the president of the Chiefs Mess decided to do a little investigation and they quickly realised that was truly innocent, and totally unable to work that afternoon.
I was sent to my mess and gladly had a make-a-mend with sleep (a very rare treat in the late 60's.)
Black Friday was a sad day, at HMS Heron the CPO's tot was delivered in a hearse with most of the camp lining the route.
Beer, the sailors mind altering substance of choice.