except that this time, rather than publishing extracts from actual pieces, we decided that it would be more useful to give an idea of the contents by using an expanded version of the Editor’s introduction, linking the stories with their authors and giving the reader some idea of what to expect.

The Winter issue is entitled ‘Frostbite’. The Marine Quarterly has only once experienced seagoing frostbite, and not in very glamorous circumstances. We were on the harbourfront in Toronto in February, frozen in, and someone pointed out to the skipper that white patches were developing on his exposed areas. Rubbing with snow soon made everything better, and nothing dropped off. Still, it is an ever-present threat at this time of year, not least to keen dinghy sailors slamming around in winter series and New Year's Day picnickers lunching on whisky and sausages in creeks hither and yon. So we thought readers might need reminding about it.

Frostbite was not, however, much of a problem for Antony Bridges, and if it had been one suspects he would not have noticed it, because there were other things on his mind – such as running cargoes of explosives and detonators across the Pentland Firth with its ten-knot tides in a King's Lynn pilot cutter with a dodgy engine, there being a war on at the time. Bridges writes brilliantly, and his analysis of the Firth as a salmon river is useful for anyone braving it to this day. At the other side of the world, Colin Dunlop, a lifelong Pacific hand, is no stranger to dodgy engines, and his account of a period spent running a supply boat for a film crew on a remote Fijian island is a triumph of improvisation; if your gearbox will not function in 'ahead', turn it round and engage 'astern'. You know it makes sense. Colin does, anyway.

There is less improvisation and more steady seamanship in Bernard Penrose's account of his voyage on a Moravian square-rigger to Greenland in the early years of the last century - a fascinating account of sailing in low temperatures and high latitudes on what became known as the Rum and Bible ship. More sailing and fine pilotage next, with the Vineyard Haven boatbuilder Nat Benjamin arriving on his foggy native shores after a transatlantic voyage in a leaky schooner; and more cold temperatures in George Fairhurst's account of his attempts at landing in the USA with a boatload of half-frozen sail trainees and an appointment with a Very Important Person.

Julian Blatchley's tales from the merchant fleet are an established feature of the MQ. This time his quest for tanker experience finds him still on the west coast of South America, with a recalcitrant crew, a crumbling vessel, a certifiable captain and some cargoes whose origins and destinations are reminiscent of current Dark Fleet activities. Highly instructive.

Bob Johnson has spent much of his life as an oilfield geologist. His stories of his part in the discovery of the Amethyst gas field and the Ninian oilfield are edge-of-the-seat stuff, not only for geologists but for anyone who has ever wondered exactly what is going on on the rigs past which we sail with such merry abandon. Another treasure story next - not black gold this time, but the schemes and stratagems of the crew of the Neil Munro’s Vital Spark, a fixture of Winter issues of the MQ, as they capitalise on the discovery of a dead whale on Calve Island off Tobermory.

Then it is back into the fog with Daniel Fisher, ocean racer extraordinaire, with the story of a Marblehead to Halifax race during parts of which it was impossible to see your hand in front of your face; and a blast into the trade winds with the opening of Tom Cunliffe's excellent new thriller - a great story in itself and a means of impeccably seamanlike transport into a world driven by sun, breeze, suspense and total bastards. Finally, the towers of Venice stand reflected in the black canals as the Editor powers over them in a sandolo, the local equivalent of the wheelbarrow, and discusses the intricacies of Venetian boatbuilding, lagoonfaring and rowing with one and two oars; and in case there are any small children around at Christmas, you could do worse than read them Kipling's Just So story of How the Whale got his Throat.

As usual, in fact, plenty of maritime life is here.

Welcome aboard!