Vigan

Back when the company I work for used to process French maize, this was the machine that sucked it from the holds of the coasters that brought it.

The coaster crews were a colourful bunch. They did a side line in cheap booze, cigarettes and exotic European porn for those that were interested. They moored overnight and had a steady flow of female company coming and going by taxi.

That was then. We process wheat now, trucked in from East Anglia.

The Vigan stands wharfside. Slowly decomposing, peeling, limp and unloved.