Denis was going to Birmingham to study economics

Tommy was going to Derry to shoot revolting Cath’lics

Sue was going to push her pram daily to the caff

Jean was going to hospital to train to radiograph

And I was going to work on ships as deck cadet riff raff

Ten pence wakes a silent juke box

Peter Frampton wants me to show him the way

Will there be deadly scorpions crawling in your bed?

Will there be tarry pigtails swinging from your head?

Will there be rum and bum, and the bosun’s lash?

Will there be pirates’ chests of ancient foreign cash?

Will there be pills and balms to sooth your tropical rash?

Another two bob in the record machine

Rod Stewart’s sailing, stormy waters and all

Will you miss the nights in the pub with the gang?

Will you send me a postcard from Ujung Pandang?

Will you be sad to leave us, or maybe distraught?

Will you be having a girl in every port?

Will you be thinking of me, now and then, just a thought?

A shiny coin drops and vinyl crackles

Van Morrison pleads baby please don’t go

Was I bleeding inside with nerves torn and tattered?

Was I turning my back on all that mattered?

Was I wrong to go crossing those great oceans blue?

Was I wrong to be thinking I’d like the ship’s crew?

Was I wrong to be leaving such dear folks that I knew?

Then a rupee jangled in my head

And Candi sang young hearts run free

Photograph: Navigating Officer Cadet, Turlough Ó Maoláin.