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Sailing in another man's shoes

It is many years since I have got up to get dressed from a strange bed in the middle of the night. Last night this was the requirement for the night watch.

 First, a turn on the helm, with Europa being in a boisterous mood in the gusty wind. Things did not feel quite right. Next, tothe bow for lookout. Again unease. I was feeling a cold that I had not yet experienced on this voyage. My feet, although not the most aesthetically pleasing part of my body are certainly one of the most sensitive. They were cold. Thoughts of sea boots and more socks were foremost in my mind.

Thoughts also of locating said boots and socks in the midden that I once called my

luggage dismayed me. It could be a long night.

Upon return to the saloon suddenly life got a lot better. My feet were wearing the

shoes which belonged to the Frenchman in the bunk above.

 

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