My day off, the sun is shining and there are no boring tasks to be accomplished.  So I am off to catch a train to a place with the delightful name (not) of Bogston to see the tall ships which are gathered near Greenock for a series of races and the like.  I will probably post some pics later but in the meantime, a bit of John Masefield from my childhood:

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

I am told it is an 'end of life' poem, a man looking back and yearning for what can never again be.  So quite why we were taught it at the age of six or seven is beyond me!  In my mind it will always be a poem of intention, of forward looking desire rather than one of bittersweet remembrance.  Maybe it's a bit like a parable - it can be read and heard many ways?

Anyway, if I don't stop I'll be here all day and not see the ships!  More later.