You perhaps know how it is, that feeling of deja vu. Here I am cruising along the coast, minding my own business, even perhaps day dream of the girls at the next port of call. Well you know what us sailors can be like. Anyway I am minding my own business and taking a few draws on me old pipe. When I heard the captain bollocking the chap at the wheel, because we be getting to close to the land.

Well of course I looks up to see how close we be, and blood hell, I am back in 1835, but I am in a captains uniform, standing next to the wheel of a real grand clipper. Hell the wind be howling and the rain is beating at my leathers. I be lambasting the fool holding the wheel spokes, for we be heading straight for the shore.

It is strange for I feels as if I am drowning for the umpteenth time. Then I feels myself slipping to the deck, and I heard young Malcom shouting, that I gone and died. He’s a daft one young Malcom. Well I call him young, he’s only 59. Me? my birth certificate says I was born in 1937.

Footnote:

Please forgive me if I do not comment very much at present. … l am a bit stretched. I am working on a new project. More details in the new year. I however intend to continue reading all the stories posted.