It's the voices

When you can’t do right for doing wrong, doing wrong Is the right thing to do

- Dave Selby

Much like land, container ships and icebergs, communication is best avoided at sea. This is why, to avoid the misunderstandings that so often arise from people attempting to communicate with me, I mostly sail alone. Even then it's not plain sailing as I have at least three niggling, undermining little inner voices that all contradict one another: leave now, wait for the ebb, stay put and slap another coat of antifouling on. They are, however, unanimous in one thing: that I'm an idiot and any decision I make will result in calamity, embarrassment and shame or, better yet, death, which by then is usually the least worst option.

On one such occasion when the voices got the better of me, they lured me against my better judgement into a place I can only describe as an establishment, where ruddy-faced people smelling of tar were drinking real ale with chunks in, squeezing instruments that made bagpipes sound melodic, and singing songs that repeated the first line 184 times. Yep, sea-shanties.