We’ll see you when the mud dries
Tuesday 12th May, 2015, is a sad day for Shippies. We’re saying goodbye to a man who was so much of the heart and soul of this hotel — Max Eiszele.
Max was a member of staff here for decades and was loved, respected and feared.
His dry Tassie humour and his amazing ability to deflate a fool with a withering comeback were just two of his trademarks.
He is distinguished as the only living man to have his own stained glass memorial window in the hotel many years before his passing.
We’re going to miss you, Max, but perhaps, as you often said when heading for home, we might see you when the mud dries.
Shippies prides itself on its relaxed, free-and-easy atmosphere.
But we’d like to ask our patrons to refrain as much as possible from the use of strong language, which may disturb some of the sensitive fishermen who frequent our bar.
A scary feature that fortunately didn’t become standard automotive equipment.
This was allegedly promoted in the USA in the dangerously carefree days of early motoring, according to Drunken History, a book originating from the American TV series Drunk History and now available from Amazon.
We hope it’s a hoax. At Shippies we take the responsible service of alcohol very seriously — have a good time with us but leave the car at home or use Hobart’s excellent taxi services if you think you might be over the limit.
Shippies dates back to 1846 and we don’t have many images of its early life. This one was taken about 1900, when the pub had an earthen floor strewn with sawdust and Battery Point was a boisterous, brawling village where the cops only went mob-handed.
The clientele was mainly fishermen and workers from the shipyards down the hill, now mostly gone. There were pubs on most corners in those days and today’s Shippies is a lusty survivor from more robust times.