Somewhere Beyond the Lighthouse
Decades ago when I was still a fairly young man, there was a quiet pub in my corner of London that was popular among gentlemanly American sailors. Not the sort of rowdy drunken loudmouths that gave their country a bad name, mind you, but their more mature brethren who enjoyed a quiet drink and pleasant conversation by the fireside before returning to sea. Having never been to the States myself in those days, I came to love welcoming the strangers to my neighbourhood to hear their tales of far...