Ahoy there, matey. A word in your shell-like: let me run this up the flagpole and see if you salute.

And please don’t go overboard if you’ve heard it all before. I’m not swinging the lead.

There you are, all at sea and feeling slightly holed below the waterline. You’re like a paper paddle in a cardboard lifeboat. Like my Nan once said, “You’re out of the cradle but endlessly rocking.”

But you can’t fathom it cos your competitive edge in the concrete jungle has landed you a Spanish armada’s cargo of booty.

Long ago and far away you had more dash than cash. Now you’re loaded to the gunnels with more pieces of eight than you can shake Long John Silver’s crutch at.

Well shiver me timbers and splice the mainbrace, it’s time to live the life of Reilly and high off the hog. So be like a seahorse and get hot to trot.

Fill yer boots.

Time to strike the surf and set sail at sparrowfart, from sea to shining sea.

The crew at Virgin will clamber up the mainmast and do dog-watches to ensure your sea-kindly cruise lives up to what it says on the bo’sun’s tin. You CAN see Naples and die. And many other ports of call.

Believe me when I say this for I am as old as my tongue and a little older than my teeth: nation shall sail unto nation. It’s copper-bottomed. And a little of what you fancy does you good. First turn of the screw pays all debts.

I hope this ticks all your boxes and encourages you to weigh anchor, cast off, spread your sails and whistle down the wind like there’s no tomorrow.

Yes, there may be choppy waters ahead, and sometimes you may get out of your depth. Perhaps it won’t all be plain sailing but it’ll be rollicking’ fun all the way.

Am I right or am I right? Lovely jubbly.

And with that I return you to the studio.

I’ll see myself out.

Now sling yer hook.

James Leavey

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