One or two of them, I suspect, had never returned to a ship sober in their lives

 From Trying to Please by John Julius Norwich.  Page 128.  

Now Cleopatra—and, I suppose, a good many of the other ships—carried a considerable number of Boy Seamen of perhaps sixteen or seventeen, most of whom had never been abroad before and had little experience of serious drinking. (The Navy’s traditional daily tot of rum was limited to twenty-one-year-olds and over). And after more than two weeks at sea their elders and betters hardly set them a shining example. By eleven o’clock the last liberty boats returning to the ships were loaded with senseless sailors and awash with vomit. Those of us who could still stand were mobilized to search the uniforms of the unconscious for the paybook which each man had to carry, identify him, and somehow get him back to his ship—as unpleasant a task as I have ever had to tackle, which went on for most of the night. On the following morning the worst cases were formally disciplined, though with precisely what punishment I cannot now remember; there were certainly nowhere near enough cells—or, probably, oakum—to go round. Fortunately, no subsequent evening involved a repetition of the experience. There were always a few drunks returning from shore—one or two of them, I suspect, had never returned to a ship sober in their lives—but most of us had learnt our lesson.