If Andy Small should come to call,
Be sure to buy his fare,
You could not wish for fresher fish,
Nor find them anywhere,
His little boat can barely float,
There's so much stacked within,
It comes a-chugging - cargo-lugging,
With Andy's honest grin.

Along the coast no one can boast,
A restaurant so blessed,
Marine cuisine has never seen,
Such happy hotel guests,
The crates of fish he brings ashore,
So marvellously cold,
Have come from Andy's fishing smack's,
Refrigerated hold.

Supporting local fishermen,
Is vital as we know,
So source your produce locally,
And help the business grow,
But when the Cornish moon is full,
Upon a silent night,
They talk in Gweek of Helford Creek,
And deeds not fit for light.

And just along the creek you'll find,
Upon the other side,
A little van upon the sand,
With Andy's things inside,
Upon the tide it parks beside,
Where Andy's boat is moored,
And to and fro watch Andy go,
To stash the crates on-board.

The van's refrigerated,
Andy drives here every day,
And then he transfers all he's brought,
And floats it all away,
He tells you from his boat,
That you're his only port of call,
But check the catch for labels,
"Tesco's Basics" says it all.

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