Yo Ho Ho

We went to the Sea Shanty Festival yesterday, making a dash through monsoon type rain down to Custom House Quay in Falmouth where about 12 groups of shanty singers are taking part in an amiable weekend full of tall tales, good natured rivalry and, of course, alcohol to lubricate the singing.

I’d wanted to see our local group, Falmouth Shout, but at their allotted time they were absent, so we got the Wareham Whalers (from Dorset) instead, who were jovial and thirsty, if a bit croaky – it had evidently been a long day. Next on was Rum and Shrub who are very professional (and excellent) singers, and despite the intermittent rain, a good crowd gathered to hear them all.

I’m going to have another go at trying to see Falmouth Shout this afternoon, after walking Moll. As rehearsals for our next musical don’t start till November, I don’t know how I’m going to survive that long with no singing. Apparently there is a meeting in the Famous Barrel in Penryn one night where you can go along and join in, so three of us are going to do that if we can find out when it is.

Another friend went along to it but said that when she started singing, everyone stopped. ‘And you could tell it wasn’t the sort of quiet where everyone was thinking what a wonderful voice I had,’ she said. ‘They sort of glared at me.’
‘Sing a bit quieter,’ hissed her husband.
'I did,' she said, 'but what’s the point of singing if no one can hear you?'
Quite right. (And actually, there's nothing the matter with her voice - they must have been an Off lot that night.)

After a glass of wine yesterday, I was Giving It Stick, as Himself says, and singing out with the rest of them. He suggested that if we had a shanty singing group, we could call it Yo Ho Ho. As he doesn’t really enjoy singing, this is highly unlikely, but I liked the name. ‘Good idea,’ I said. ‘You can be Yo, and Mollie and I will be Ho and Ho.' How we teach Mollie to sing is a different matter. Watch this space….