Galveston doesn't have the best reputation. People in Texas say "ugh - Galveston." People outside Texas say "ugh - Texas." But they're all wrong, because Galveston is exactly the seedy seaside town we Brits enjoy, with the added bonus that you don't get hypothermia when you take your shoes and socks off. But then, being a British gentleman, I never remove my socks in any circumstances.
The other thing that the seaside has is boats, so Dad and I decided to explore Galveston's naval heritage when we heard about a small ship called "Jacks Or Better".
In order to bypass the arcane gambling laws around here - I can't even place a wager on England winning the Ashes! - this boat takes 1.5 hours to sail nine miles off the coast and into international waters, where the fruities are switched on and the covers pulled off the blackjack tables. Three hours of gambling ensue before the boat turns around to sail back. While you're gambling, all the alcohol is free. And they give you vouchers for booze on the way out. I may have already used the word seedy. But given this combines my ex-navy father's two great loves of seafaring and roulette, how could we pass up the opportunity?
The boat has been emptied and transformed into a two-level casino, complete with imposing cashier's cage and beefy pit bosses, leading me to wonder who would attempt to knock over a floating casino. A team of corrupt Olympic swimmers, or a seriously cut-price Bond villain with a submarine perhaps.
None of this mattered to Dad and I, who loved it. Dan The Singing Dealer entertained us on the top deck on the way out and the free booze guaranteed a lively time, which combined with the sun and gentle motion made the loungers the perfect venue for an afternoon snooze later.
In between we gambled. Or Dad did. I don't gamble on principle, the principle being that I always lose. But I was an enabler, placing the chips where my high-rolling father directed me to. We left one permanently on his birthday, 22, and - as ever - just as I thought our chips were exhausted, 22 came up and we eked out another half hour of slowly losing money. I didn't turn away the cocktail waitress when she kept offering drinks. Living the dream!
All too soon it was time to U-turn, through the rigs and tankers that line the Gulf of Mexico, and even past a submarine and some dolphins. The party raged on upstairs but we opted for the more peaceful, now closed casino floor, where jaded gamblers cradled their empty wallets. If only they could see the truth: everyone's a winner in Galveston.
None too shabby a view from the hotel balcony.
Breakfast time for the Petes.
Our 5-star cruise ship awaits!
But what's inside? Bankruptcy.
Up on deck.
Leaving the coast approximately 9.1 miles behind.
Dad is unmoved by Dealer Dan and his dancers.
OK, now the real fun begins.
Goodbye inheritance.
"And my son will cover my debts..." Dad tells the pit boss.
Time to dream up another roulette strategy.
Cashing out as the boat turns back.
The party continues on deck. Drowning sorrows?
Land ahoy!
"And then the naughty gambler came home to his wife who locked him under the stairs and he promised never to do it again..."
