seadog

I hope I am as fit as this chap is when I get to be his age. Whatever the weather, whatever the time of year he is to be seen walking around the village at all times of the day. He dresses for storms in winter and heat waves in summer. He happily flits between Welsh and English, which makes understanding him difficult for someone like me who knows very little Welsh.

My poor Welsh knowledge is a sore point with me. I had several lessons and was coming on nicely, when the teacher got a new job, and she hasn’t been replaced yet. DOH!

Here is A Salty Dog by Procul Harum:

‘All hands on deck, we've run afloat!' I heard the captain cry
'Explore the ship, replace the cook: let no one leave alive!'
Across the straits, around the Horn: how far can sailors fly?
A twisted path, our tortured course, and no one left alive

We sailed for parts unknown to man, where ships come home to die
No lofty peak, nor fortress bold, could match our captain's eye
Upon the seventh seasick day we made our port of call
A sand so white, and sea so blue, no mortal place at all

We fired the gun, and burnt the mast, and rowed from ship to shore
The captain cried, we sailors wept: our tears were tears of joy
Now many moons and many Junes have passed since we made land
A salty dog, this seaman's log: your witness my own hand

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Guitarist Robin Trower looks so young in that clip, but he was 24.

Cheers, Tom.