The Sea-Shanty Seller (who writes all his own material) in his booth:

Coo, what a life. Quiet as a millpool, no business at all. Three "traditional arrangements" in two weeks. A shanty seller can't make a living on that! But then, that rush last month - a trireme from the Orient, three decks of sixty oars each, and every one of them wanting a personalised ditty. All in haiku. I was glad when that was over.

But now it's all gone quiet again. Perhaps it's all these new pulleys and tackles - it used to take six men to haul up a cargo net, and that was work that needed good, firm shanties. But now, since the boffins brought out their fancy pulleys and blocks and tackles, it's all mechanical advantages and draw weights: and that's poetry gone to the bilges.