Governance

There was once a good ship named “Governance”, an old but worthy vessel, hewed from prime

English oak, built by true craftsman, carved and polished with pride. A new team of officers, with

qualifications galore and letters before and after their names, had recently appointed themselves to

take the ship on a voyage of discovery. So, as befitting their status, the senior ranks had

commissioned a refit of the staterooms; nothing but the softest feather beds, the most luxurious

green velvet and vellum, the plushest of red carpets would do. The best was demanded and the

people provided as the posters declared it to be necessary. “For the greater good” or the “good of

the great” was the cry; something like that anyway, no one was really sure as the messages to the

people were in semaphore and they did not understand. It all looked to be above board though so

their consent was duly deemed to have been given and they embarked for the adventure of a

lifetime.

The ship set sail under a flag of convenience. The people thought they were on a British owned

vessel and didn’t realise that it had been sold to an international conglomerate, funded by a person

or persons unknown. It was purchased by a midden of shell companies at an address c/o the

launderette on Paradise Island but nobody could fathom out why that was. Without further ado, the

boatswain gave the order to weigh the anchor and proceed, full steam ahead in a starboard

direction.

Shortly after the voyage began the skies darkened and the waters started to get choppy; the ship

headed straight into heaving high seas, a tumult of biblical proportions. Any decent seafarer worth

his salt, and there were many on board, would have seen the signs and known a storm was brewing

but the lower orders were confined to quarters for their own safety and not consulted. The officers

in charge left the bridge and gathered round the captain’s table, using their collective brain power to

study the model ships in their gleaming bottles and consult the maps, charts and graphs provided by

the landlubber experts. The stars were observed, coins were tossed, the globe was spun and the die

was cast.

The ship began rolling from port to starboard, lurching from fore to aft as it bobbed like a cork on

the foaming sea. The people below decks became sick and sent an anxious deputation to the captain

with a plea; mayday, mayday, save our souls. The second in command said that the captain had

taken a few days leave (of his senses) and some of the other officers had succumbed to cabin fever.

A decision to jettison the excess weight was made in camera and the people were told to pack their

things and prepare to abandon ship for fear of mortal danger. The good people lined up on deck,

observing safe distancing rules and spread out equally to maintain stability. The lifeboats could not

be used in case there was an emergency and the order was given to jump overboard. A skeleton

crew of key workers was kept in the engine room but everyone else obeyed the ship master’s

command. When everyone was safely in the water the following helpful advice was given: don’t try

to touch the bottom, keep your distance, don’t pull anyone under and look out for sharks.

The captain emerged from his suite looking rather the worse for wear. The other officers, in the

rarefied air of the staterooms, were giddy and intoxicated with excitement as they clamoured to tell

him of their achievements. We’ve created buoyancy they declared, whoop, whoop they yelled! The

captain proposed a congratulatory toast with a tot of rum and they all patted each other on the

back.

The skeleton crew could hear the rudder spinning out of control, their instincts told them there was

no-one steering and that the ship had been left to drift in to dangerous and uncharted waters. They

were short of manpower, fuel and energy were depleted, there terms and conditions had been

changed without warning and they’d had enough of the ships biscuits which were breaking their

teeth; they were mutinous.

The crew downed tools and marched to the staterooms to demand an audience. What’s going on

they said, where are we going, who’s at the helm? The officers looked at each other and shrugged

their shoulders; one said “we’ve just created buoyancy don’t you know”. The crew hooted with

derisory laughter and told them to unfurl their own foksail, swing their own jib and hoist their own

petards; we’re off they declared and in the lifeboat too!

The officers and captain were stranded on board and had no option to keep en route; the southern

trade winds were a calling. “Who’s got any seafaring experience they collectively asked”? Two said

they’d watched Moby Dick at the cinema, one said he’d seen Mutiny on the Bounty on TV, another

helpfully said that a capstan was an old brand of cigarettes. One jolly chap said his local watering

hole was called the Anchor and the last two admitted to enjoying a bit of Captain Pugwash in their

youth! No women on board as they were unlucky, sirens sent to lure them on to the rock of

misfortune.

“What are we going to do” they cried, snivelling and whinging and begging for a package to rescue

them. There’s no fuel down below but there’s lots of wood on deck with those two large poles; “we

could chop those down and stoke the boiler with them”, said one “seems a shame to let all that

good wood go to waste” said another.

Out on deck they got rid of all those dirty old cloths that were crumpled in a heap; they were a bit

smelly with dried salt on them, had holes too down the side so what use would they be? They

cleared the ropes out of the way, throwing them overboard to make more room to swing the safety

axe.

Wood in the hold, chairs on the deck, steamer loungers at the ready; the sun was over the yard arm,

what a sight to behold. The empty vessel drifted calmly in to the Doldrums never to be seen again

and the people lived happily ever after.