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"'Scuse me, my name should be on the gangplank."
Rock 'n' roll life on the ocean wave? Well, I don't think that toddling up and down the River Mersey at 5 knots bopping to the Yachts quite qualifies for that romantic description, but it was a novel idea.
"We could have just done a gig at Eric's but we thought this would be more fun," explains Henry Priestman, keyboard player and songwriter mainstay of the Yachts, as we quaff our brown and bitters in the passenger-deck-turned-dancehall of the Royal Iris. On board as the boat sets sail just after 8 o'clock are 400 scousers got up in their trendiest threads for the occasion.
Apart from some intermittent but high-quality singles, the Yachts have maintained a low profile since signing to Radar Records. They've resisted the impulse to rush lemming-like towards the rock 'n' roll spotlight which too often results in an equally swift return to oblivion. Instead they've taken their time recording their first album and setting themselves up for a more considered campaign.
The waterborne gig is a prelude to the release of their first album and a British tour early in June. And the Royal Iris is taking it in her stride. Indeed she's no stranger to rock 'n' roll gigs, having staged similar functions back in the Mersey beat boom era of the Sixties.
Radar are taking more than a passing interest in the affair as well. They've used the occasion to introduce ex-Deaf School member Clive Langer in his new solo role. And that's not all.
When the disco finally judders to a halt (even at 5 knots the movement is enough to send the needle skating across the 12-inch singles with nerve-jarring frequency) and the first abrasive sounds of live music render further conversation with Henry pointless I head out towards the source. But the bespectacled gentleman swaying in front of the microphone in the low archway that serves as the stage at one end of the deck doesn't look much like Clive Langer to my admittedly unskilled eyes. It looks more like Elvis Costello.
It is Elvis Costello and those are the Attractions jammed around him with scarcely room to tap their feet, let alone play their instruments. Instant recognition is further hampered by the fact that Elvis has started his set with the obscure single by the Merseybeats, "I Stand Accused" but it's unmistakably Costelloed the same way he used to sing "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself." A neat touch.
"Hi there. We're a little nervous 'cos we haven't played for a while but we thought we'd come and surprise you," he says with a smile when the song's over.
Surprise us he certainly has. The crowd seem almost bemused by his sudden presence and even after it's all over I overhear two girls in a corner trying to decide whether it was really Elvis or just an impersonator. But the rest of the audience aren't quite so dim and quickly jump on the case as Elvis zips through a brief but perfect set for the warm-up spot: "Oliver's Army," "I Don't Want To Go To Chelsea," "Accidents Will Happen," "Watching The Detectives" received not with the posey squealing that would doubtless have occurred if he'd done the same thing at the Venue or Dingwalls but with cheerful, unaffected enthusiasm.
"Hope you don't drown; see you at the bar," he says at the end, and true to his word he's soon wandering around the ship, signing the occasional autograph but generally unmolested. Later I discover that he was up in Liverpool visiting his mum when he heard about the gig and asked if he could do a short spot as it sounded fun. He looks as though he enjoyed every minute too. As long as he confines his temperamental outbursts to America, that's fine by me.
But his unexpected appearance has done nothing to calm Clive Langer's nerves. Making your first solo public appearance is bad enough, but having to follow Elvis Costello at the same time must increase the tension by logarithmic proportions.
But encouraged by a section of Deaf School supporters he quickly settles in and despite opting for a style that's often hard to assimilate at a first hearing there's a perversely catchy element that keeps bobbing to the surface, particularly on "I Want The World" and "Kings Of The World."
Outside the sunset has given way to a murky darkness as we thread our way upstream past the blushing buoys up towards Port Sunlight having had a brief glimpse of the Irish Sea down the other end earlier on.
When the Yachts finally get on it's a relief to find them greeted like the headline band of the evening. It would have been unfortunate to say the least if they'd been left totally upstaged by the surprises earlier on.
But they even sounded like the billtoppers and the throng were soon dangling from various pipes and girders across the ceiling in an effort to watch them as they zipped through their set of old songs, songs from the upcoming album and some new songs written in the last couple of months.
For a band with very little match practice recently they got cooking pretty quickly and clearly played what was even by their standards a good gig. The last number arrived just as the boat returned to the pierhead at 11.30pm and the revellers spilled out onto dry land, cheered by a good gig and an unexpected bonus. But for the bands and sundry liggers the nautical flavour wasn't quite over. It was back to the Atlantic Hotel, shaped like a ship, and the Tradewinds bar to unwind in the traditional manner.
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