Sitting here in the Tofino sand watching McCann hobble around on one foot is more fun than rousting Partridge in the Fall. Poor bastard stepped on a rusty bit of metal (not at Middle Cove) and looks more now like an old man with the gout than the shantyman. Usually he'd be off running the beach in search of inspiration (BC grows some of the best) but today he's grounded like a lost ship. Reminds me of the day "Safe Upon the Shore" became a song.
After some very hard days of travel we found ourselves in the seaside town of Olympia in Washington. All hands had been working hard writing new songs to appease dreaded taskmaster Steve (dial it in) Berlin. Minds and bodies were well frayed. The usually "too cool for school" Foster passed McCann his morning's efforts on a single sheet of paper. The dark tale of a lover lost at sea was too much for our resident "bad seed' to resist and he decided to run with it.....literally.
10K later Murray's poem had a melody.....and a chorus.
The world's first Love Shanty was born.
Now if we could just teach the gimp to stop stepping on sharp objects.....
Tosh