Any port in a storm...

When deep-sea fish no longer spawn, when my rusty old trawler has been withdrawn
When fishermen are no longer born and the old Sowester’s no longer worn
Lobster pot and fishing creel, Dover sole and jellied eel
I trawl the waves from dusk ‘til dawn; there’ll be no fish cakes when I am gone!


Stornoway Harbour
And so ends my Outer Hebrides Adventure.
(Back blips as I process them ;-)
Back to work!