Sickypoos
The first time I was seasick was when I was 8, on the Cook Strait ferry. As the youngest spawn of a naval family, I'd smugly assumed I was genetically immune to queasiness. For the first hour, the smug increased as the ferry progressed through a mildly choppy sea and the other kids onboard succumbed to nausea. "Pah, wimps" I thought as I ostentatiously helped myself to a huge strawberry ice cream ...
and then the ship hit a sudden trough. It was like the eeeek part of the world's worst rollercoaster and suddenly my stomach was sending me an unmistakeable "get to the crapper" signal and I flew into the nearest one to find other passengers power-spewing in every cubicle and urinal so all I could do was stand in the middle of the toilet floor and ERUPT. To this day I remember the graceful arc of bright pink chunder splattering and forming a perfect Scotch pancake.
Then a Sikh gentleman came round the corner and stepped in it.
(Mr Gronk, Wed 7 Nov 2012, 20:50, Reply)