A Love of the Sea

A Love of the Sea

When I lived in Liverpool, my best friend was a boy called Midge.

Kevin Midegley was his real name nut we all called him Midge for

short. And he was short, only about three cornflake boxes high (empty

ones at that) No three was about it. Midge was my best friend and we

had lots of things in common, as most best friends do.

But there was one thing that really bound us together, one thing we

had in common- a love of the sea. In the old days (but not so long

ago), the river Mersey was far busier than it is today. Those were the

days of the great passenger liners and cargo boats. Large ships sailed

out of Liverpool for Canada, the United States, South Africa, and the

West Indies, all over the world. My Father had been to sea as well as

all of my uncles. Six foot six, muscles rippling in the wind, huge

hands grappling with the helm, rum-soaked and fierce as fierce as a

wounded shark. By the time they were twenty, most young men in the

city had visited parts of the globe I can't even spell. In my bedroom

each night, I used to lie in bed (best place to lie really), I used to

lie there, especially in winter, and listen to the foghorns being

sounded all down the river. O could picture the ship nosing its way

out of the docks into the channel and out into the Irish Sea. All

those exotic places. All those exciting adventures.

Midge and I knew what we wanted to do when we left school…. Become

sailors. A captain, an admiral, perhaps one day even a steward. Of

course we were only about seven or eight at the time so we thought

we'd have a long time to wait. But the call of the sea came sooner

than we expected.

It was Wednesday if I remember rightly. I never liked Wednesdays for

some reason. Anyway, Midge and I were in trouble at school, I don