Leaving Southampton was very emotional for me, saying goodbye to Lou was hard, it made me look back at my parents and how they must have said goodbye, in such a very different way. My Dad off to war in a small ship, my Mum left at home pregnant with my brother Lew, and Dad had no idea, he was gone three years. I was off on a big ship with the internet, nice food and theatres, cosy cabins and beds, and 1600 staff to clear up after you. Times are not alike at all, yet emotionally im sure my mother would have cried as much as i did as the ship pulled out of dock. It was so sad. Night one and the calmness of the sea is noted, we eat our meal in what could be Park Lane fine dining establishement, but then fast forward to 3am. Im tossed out of bed by a storm, im all over the place like Bambi on ice, i stagger but not drunk from one room to the next, im scared. I read all the weather charts, im more scared. For three days the ship is in high waters and we all feel a little green around the gills. What can you do but cry. And im away from home, now i have home its hard to leave, so i cry even more. The new team gather round, Chris Simmons is looking younger by the minute and reflects my nervousness. Guy Pratt has no fear and has sailed the ocean before, he is the story teller and the bass player with the book, and i love him to bits. The others are on good form too, Chris Sheehan suffers the sea and gets a jab, Simon of Squeeze fame just gets on with it. Kate looks ill. Angie looks ill. Claire and Matt Deighton are seeminly old sea dogs and seem fine and fine dining. Its a full ship. But im still scared. I have to pull it together to introduce the ship to the the songwriters coarse, 60 people sign up and we split into six small groups and begin to write songs. Its all looking good. To try and order my day better i watch some Eckart Tolle, but fall asleep. Cunard look after me and send me to a cabin lower down the ship, its a shoe box, but its quite. And the sway is less. The storm carries on and im in a shoe box in the back of a car going over humps in the road somewhere in my head, its all too much and i want to go home. Its not going to happen. My manager calls to talk about being on the ship for 23 days going to Australia with Squeeze. Im not happy. Things did get better, i was looked after and loved from afar, the songs wrote themselves and the team of on board writers made easy going of the people who took part in the workshop. At night, as ever, the band played in the pub, Songs in the Key of London and New York, it was fun to watch. Everyone seemed to enjoy the playing and singing, it swung from Sid James to Nick Drake at times but thats the nature of the being.