THIS IS A LOW
There are warnings of gales in Viking, North Utsire, South Utsire, Forties, Cromarty, German Bight and Humber.
No matter where he'd end up each night, James would always find a way to listen to the Shipping Forecast on BBC Radio 4 before Ronald Binge's 'Sailing By' would act like musical heroin sending him to safe harbour in his dreams.
He could be in a crack den shooting up or crashed out on a stranger's couch but he'd always remember to listen to the daily broadcast as it gave him a sense of order amongst the chaos. Unable to get any of his other shit together in life, he even impressed himself with his near religous devotion to the ritual. And sometimes, he'd even convince some unlucky fuck to listen along with him.
"If you close your eyes you can visualise the entire coasts off the British Isles in your mind. Imagine your mind is a rigger in the night and these weather reports and forecasts are helping you make it safely through to the morning in one piece," he said to some fellow junkie vampire with bloodshot eyes sat next to him as James blasted Radio 4 through the semi-smashed screen of his smart phone.
And that in essence was James's simple philosophy for surviving in life. Make it through to morning. If you were still breathing and your heart was still pumping blood round your body you'd steered successfully through the night storms into a new dawn, a new day.
Everything and anything else after this he considered a bonus.
James had even lost a few girlfriends as a result of his strange obsession, irritated by his demand for absolute silence while he listened to the radio at the exact same time, every night.
"It's my north star, my anchor through life," he once told Chloe, a fellow addict, who, although finding it a seemingly charming quirk at first, came to view it as unhealthy later in their relationship as she sought sobriety.
"It's like a baby needing a dummy to sleep at night, or a cuddly toy. A grown man shouldn't need to always rely on a shipping forecast to ensure he can sleep. It's just another addiction to add to all the others."
Defensive, James attempted to make his case but only ended up vindicating her argument.
"Maybe you're right. But the way I see it, it's like what John Lennon sung about. 'It's Whatever Gets You Through The Night.'"
But he knew deep down at the heart of his obsession was something he'd never revealed privately to anyone and it was that same thing that had driven his addictions to the extreme.
1975
"If you can't sleep when I'm gone, remember to listen to the shipping forecast and think of me out at sea," James's dad, Alan, told him before departing for the night on a cargo ship transporting steel plates and girders to Ireland.
By the time 'Sailing By' was played on the radio, James was out like a light and he slept soundly in his bed all throughout that cold February night before waking up the following morning to overhear on the radio that the cargo vessel his father was working on had capsized off the port of Heysham in Lancaster.
He didn't understand what death even meant back then, but over time it sank in and the absence of his beloved dad became ever more apparent over the subsequent years and decades.
And as he made the journey from childhood to adulthood, the scale of the loss loomed increasingly large in his mind like a giant wave which, when it did eventually crash, led to James seeking comfort in drink and drugs. He could find no other way to get a grip of the anxiety that took hold of him like a vicious demon.
The one constant through all the hell of his grief, addiction and sadness was the shipping forecast which he listened to every night without fail.
Each time he fell asleep to it, he hoped to wake up and find his dad returned from his night voyage.
But to this day, he still hadn't returned and the only place James could find him was in his dreams or during a fix.
Wind South-East 5 to 7, occasionally gale 8; sea state moderate or rough; rain later and squally showers; visibility moderate or good, occasionally poor later.