For some reason, some absolute weapon of a man built a water slide in the middle of

the North Sea, meaning a lad on the cod droller couldn't believe it when we found it.

There we were, racing ourselves against 40 feet rogue waves and horizontal sleet carried

on hurricane level turbulence 50 miles out of Scotland when we spotted it.

An ape looped baby blue plastic water slide, standing defiantly amongst the building size

waves and ship booking winds.

It had a ladder and a little white and red flags for a lifeguard and everything.

It was gas who saw it first.

Well damn, I muttered under my breath.

That is a water slide.

Is that a bloody water slide?

Old Dave, the captain, approached his head out of the cabin to get a view uninhabited

by the fat drops of rain smashing into the viewing window.

Bloody hell.

Oh my god, it actually is.

That's a damn water slide in the middle of the North Sea.

He joined the rest of us, running from the wheel under the deck to lean over the starboard

ballwalk.

Every man on the vessel stood, gawping at the horizontal blue loops.

They steal bars set into concrete, standing firm against a lashing of wind and monstrous

waves.

Even the tiny lifeguard flags and the tiny bucket they're in seemed to unbatter by the

...