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Memo to self: must take stock of where we stand, personnel wise. "Wise" is probably not the appropriate word but lets continue.
TA is on leave, touring the untourable, woods and trees and mountainy men and their undesirable women and things that are only aching to eat you, grizzleys and crocodiles and polar bears and spiders.
FJ is in "Command", well I never. And me a huge supporter of British Tickets, shiver me timbers.
And Billyboy now 1st Mate or Chief Officer as he has taken to calling himself, he's due for a fall. And not from grog.
Varley has taken to searching Lidl for an auto-start stomach pump whose innards will not be corroded by full strength Gripitini, we wish him Goodspeed.
My old china, Tmac, has taken the absence of TA to let his wee Belfast Hard-Nut personality re-appear and is headbutting all he meets, a Glentoran Kiss.
Red 17 is behaving like a Teaser in a stud farm, just a wee pop up the gangway and off again once all the crew shows interest. (Lots of interest)
Thank God I'm sane and to prove it to myself I have swallowed the keys to the main engine and will pass them only when Mr Mundrabilla joins and takes charge of the boilers.
So there.
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