Above Us the Waves

There they go, into the recycling. Visions of exotic places, relaxing days sunning oneself on the poop deck. Into the recycling to be pulped and turned into loo rolls go all the cruise catalogues.

I'm staying on solid ground am I from now on. Much as I admire Leslie Phillips and his ship mates and Captain Pugwash and Seaman Stains, a life on the ocean waves is not for me.

I had fancied a cruise taking in the Tyrrhenian and Ligurian Seas but recent events have not been encouraging.

I was, anyway, not at all convinced that a biscuit tin could stay upright on the briny seas. Even a biscuit tin as gargantuan and as well appointed as the clumsily named Costa Condordia, rapidly resembled an opened tin of sardines, when it bish bashed against the rocks.

It was a small town bobbing up and down on quite a lot of water: except the water seems to have run out at some point. It's not natural that 4,000 people should be moved over the surface of God's waters in something resembling a tiered wedding cake.

I initially didn't believe the Captain of the ill fated vessel that the rocks had moved. I thought that only happened in Jason and the Argonauts but according to experts the Italian coast line is quite dynamic  and large lumps (mountains, to you and me) can move along the sea floor Symplegades-like.

However, I'm not convinced that a boat that size should be allowed anywhere near a coastline or port.If you ask me I think the Mediterranean is too small and shallow for such a vessel.  Its place is in the dead centre of the Atlantic or the Pacific thousands of miles away from any hint of land.

I wonder what John Masefield would say on seeing the beach'd leviathan; "Left hand down a bit, Mr Phillips"?