Crossing The Line

3rd February 2014. Many years ago, when I was ill in bed, my mother read me a story about a dynasty of seafarers founded by a boy sent to sea on a whaler where he carved a seabird out of whalebone. I still remember it well as it made me cry at the end. If I could remember the name of it, I would recommend it to you. One chapter however was devoted to the ceremony of “Crossing the Line” when King Neptune came on board and initiated the Polywogs (those who have never crossed the line before) by dunking them in water to cleanse them of the dirt of the north and do other things to them, which we won’t go into here. Once they had crossed they were designated as a shellback.

So, silly old romantic me, I was expecting some sort of ceremony and maybe even a Certificate to prove that I had “crossed the line”. Unfortunately for me, Mr Health and Mr Safety have been here before me together with Mr God help us if someone claims on their insurance, so what is left is now just a play, and some fun and games partaken only by the crew and entertainment officers while the passengers look on.

 

Whilst it was all good clean fun and I can guarantee that no passengers were hurt in the making of it, I was disappointed that at the end of the day, I didn’t even get a Certificate.

Another of my dreams shattered……do I hope for too much?