Able was I ere I saw Elba
Another Captain I was particularly fond of was rather petit and polite. One of the few who would bestow a morning stroll through the crew mess to see how we are all doing today, here in paradise. Back then it would have been through the fug of the smoking end aft into the morning after of the crew bar. Possibly just missing the last of the casino with their bow-ties askew. There was some salacious story about. It sustained throughout his last trip. An overly tall salon girl from Dublin and a Chiropody Incident. He popped up at a crew party on tween deck which was most confusing for everybody. I enjoyed his farewell speech, they ask me, he said, what I'm going to do with myself when I leave the sea. An old sailor once told me that when you leave the sea you must throw a pair of oars over your shoulder and start walking inland. When someone says 'What are they for?' you can stop there.
I followed Napoleon around. From his garden in Ajaccio which reeked of ancient rosemary and skulked with cats, to his exile on Elba then St Helena off Africa. Didnt they ship him off there in a cask of brandy?