Red Pepper

It was a bright sunny morning in Liverpool 

The Mersey all shimmering bright

We’d come to look over a sailboat

It was neglected - all covered in shite

But our hearts were won over by Red Pepper

This sturdy twenty-foot ship

She’d become our luxury liner

Crossing the Mersey would be a big trip

Cleaned up she looked worth the five hundred

We handed to the old sea dog

‘She’ll look after you in all kinds of weather,’ he said.

‘But I suggest you avoid the fog.’

That summer we criss-crossed the Mersey

Tacking to New Brighton and back

We took the kids, some friends and the dog

With pork pies and sausage rolls as a snack

One afternoon having mislaid the tide tables

I said ‘Don’t worry we’ll go with the flow

I know every inch of that river

At high tide the water’s quite slow.’

We were out on the river too long

We’d sailed upstream as far as Runcorn

Mrs T said ‘They’ll close the lock before much longer

Drop the sails and let’s motor back home.’

The outboard had always been temperamental

That day the swine just would not start

I didn’t panic or swear or get tearful

But I sensed we were now in the cart

Red Pepper was being pushed by the tide

So we pointed her towards our dock

We surfed past Garston then Aigburth

And right past the marina lock

‘Now we’re in trouble,’ I muttered.

‘There really is no way back

I’m sure that’s Freshfields and Formby

We’ll not beat this tide with a tack.’

Before long it was dark and felt dangerous

The sea silent as the shore lights grew dim

We sailed far too close to a wind farm 

Our future looked pretty grim

Now Mrs T is very resourceful

She’d packed extra butties for our trip

And a flask full of steaming hot coffee

But I knew she was biting her lip

She took out our chart from the cabin

Shook her head and threw it into the sea

I’d packed the chart showing South Wales

The coastguard it would have to be

What Mrs T didn’t know, I now had to tell

The radio had long been on the blink

Our only phone was out of battery

My heart was beginning to sink

It was light before we spotted dry land

I breathed a sigh of relief

We were tired and cold and hungry

‘That’ll be Conway I do believe.’

We headed into port on our main sail

Taking our time I looked like a pro’

A white bearded captain took our lines

And I thought ‘I’m sure he’s someone I know.’

‘Welcome to the Isle of Man.’

Captain Birds Eye declared with a grin

‘You two must have been up all night

I expect you’re really done in.’

‘Never mind that,’ clipped an angry Mrs T.

‘It’s Monday morning I should be in work

How will Knowsley Council function?

My boss will go beserk.’

She climbed onto the jetty real mad

Had her hands on her hips – a bad sign

She looked at me with a wither

When I said, ‘At least the weather was fine.’

She pursed her lips in anger

I thought she was going to swear

She shouted, ‘You can sail home to Liverpool.

I’m going back on Ryanair.’

© Andrew’s Monologues 2024