The weather is grey, everything is cold: rope, metal, everything...except the typical old seamen humor and the very, very dark coffee these diehards drink.
This man must have wiped his nose a million times while making his call, and with every breath, every word he spoke he made steamclouds, just as the steamships that used to come here.
This guy should be happy he isn't wearing a wig. He would lose it instantly.
That's me.
Thanks for watching, don't freeze or catch a cold and have a wonderful autumn.
