Photo: 'The Leaving of Liverpool'

My good friend Bob is a fine fellow - he believes there are 'lay-lines' around the earth which have a profound affect upon his health. He's also quick to tell you there are these amazing small-sized machines available that convenient fit your back-back, that he's convinced will divert any lay-lines and keep him safe. Bob also believes in most of the more obscure alternative medicines, in the power of homeopathy, argues vehemently that a glass is always half full and is truly passionate about the infinite power of music. He plays his ukulele with his heart and sings like the world is going to end tomorrow... he is one of those genuine guys that God, with foresight, gave an endearing Liverpool scouser accent and when he told me he was travelling out to Vancouver to join me onboard Sänna for a couple of weeks whilst Marie travelled back to England with Henry, I was overjoyed.

Of course, Bob is no sailor but then as far as I was concerned he didn't need to be. I was just happy to have him around whilst we trawled the music bars of Vancouver's Gas Town. I dug out our pair of bright-orange folding bikes from deep within Sänna's storage locker and we explored wonderful Stanley Park, drank fine Granville Island IPA beer on Granville Island and talked endlessly into the early hours about everything we'd done together over the past twenty five years... previous marriages, Bob's views on the joys of sex and the politics of economics. It was just grand. Then, never tiring of the marvellous city of Vancouver, one of the world's best in my opinion, we left the dockside to sail across the Georgia Strait to the small Canadian towns of Nanaimo and Charmainus with Bob's seasick patch stuck to his forehead because that's where I told him it needed to be. 'Barnacle' Bob sang his sea-shanties and his unforgettable renditions of Dylan classics, taking large intakes of breath through his inhaler each time he needed to leap ashore with a line... slowly my friend Bob adapted to life at sea and, you know, we had a mighty good time.

We talked an awful lot and we had a lot to talk about. Because sadly Bob lost his wife, a longtime friend of mine to a tragic illness but then met and married luscious Marija with a 'j' who God, with a sense of humour, gave a deep Black Country accent and she's since done a fine job. Marija with a 'j', packed Bob off to me for one of those male bonding occasions with a fine malt whisky and instructions to come home whenever. After a few marvellous sunshine days exploring the quaint shoreline of Vancouver Island, surely winning the music-quiz in the Dinghy Doc pub on Protection Island despite being kicked out for the last ferry-boat, we sailed back over the forgiving Georgia Strait, returning to Vancouver with a sweet breeze blowing from the southeast.

With Sänna's sails filled nicely and a gentle beam reach we sailed under the spectacular Lions Gate bridge whilst dodging the fleet of dinghy racing boats seriously buzzing around us. As we approached the bridge Bob's final melody of 'The Leaving of Liverpool' will be forever treasured by two ageing old men wearing ridiculous hats... when the gentle wind, the forgiving sea, the music and the magical memories were all perfectly in tune.
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