When Alec Morrison was at the fishing, one of his crewmates, an old man, had some great stories. Once they were lying at Levenwick, on the East Side, and spent all their money on drink from a French boat. They were heading back to their boat with a certain amount of refreshments when the skipper, old John MacColl, collapsed. The rest of the crew thought it unfair he should not get his share of drink, so one man held his nose and another his beard, and they gave him his share.
They had to pass MacColl's house so they left him there, but the crew decided they'd manage to sail by themselves. The first thing to do was to erect the mast. They winched it up and nearly got it up but it jammed. Another boat saw the state they were in and persuaded them to go back home. When the other fishermen lowered the mast, they saw the problem: one of the skipper's sea boots had fouled the mast step. The heel had been knocked clean off the sole, but the crew didn't get to the fishing that night.