SAILING BY

You really cannot overstate the effectiveness of the boat (or ship) as a metaphor for our lives. We all set off on our voyage from birth into uncharted waters. Some cover more distance than others, but all hope to return to some semblance of a safe harbour after the storms of life have finally abated.

Our breaths, like the tide, move in and out as we navigate our body—our vessel—through life’s adventures. And though many of us believe the ground we stand on to be secure, reality is more fluid, like water, as we can never be quite sure what tempest might sweep us up—a seismic event such as a new baby, a death in the family, a love affair, or a broken heart.

Attending the funeral of a seafaring gentleman of considerable experience yesterday, I was struck by the idea of ships, the sea, and our mortality, and by how strangely comforting the metaphor becomes when facing the concepts of life and death through a poetic image of man versus nature, or God in the form of the elements—something bigger than man itself.

But all grandiose contemplation aside, I also started to think about great music inspired by the sea: Debussy’s La Mer, Vaughan Williams’ Sea Symphony, Bax’s Tintagel, and perhaps most sentimental of them all, Ronald Binge’s Sailing By, which concludes the shipping forecast on Radio 4 every night.

Listening to it before falling asleep feels like returning the ship of your consciousness to a safe harbour and finally anchoring it in calmer waters.

And yet, of course, we set off on another voyage altogether when we close our eyes and sail in our dreams.

Rest in peace, Desmond Fforde (6th January 1947 – 21st September 2025).