the debt-bringer

Blimey we've had a strange few days. As soon as Geoffrey finished waterproofing and "caulking" (as I believe those familiar with such goings on call it) the coracle, we put on our wellies and sou' westers and set off in a dreadful storm the other afternoon, just as sun was setting.
Rather than boringly pushing off from the rocks in the Bay below, as we normally would, we decided to try a new, exciting type of launch. We enlisted help from our neighbours, the T-G and Apsley and Cherry. Then Geoffrey and I sat in the coracle and waited for a suitably powerful gust of wind; when one arrived, our helpers pushed us in a windward direction, i.e. Over The Top - and off we flew, sailing out and over the Bay, carried by the storm in the general direction of Over There.
Anyway - we were heading for Cuba, so we were hoping that the wind would carry us in a westerly direction, for some considerable distance. If that occurred, and with any luck, we reckoned we'd definitely overshoot Over There, thus avoiding all the concomitent ghastlinesses such as the Speedispend Hypermarket and compulsory health screening centre, and so forth. But as it happened the wind shifted direction and forced us northwards. We now find ourselves just to the north west of Over There, and on course for Greenland rather than Cuba. Oh dear. To make matters worse, we seem to be just within range of the Speedispend magnet-style Xmas shopping victim detector and grab radar, (known as "the debt-bringer")so we are having to scull for our lives just to stay in the same place - if we give up for a second, we'll be sucked into the terrible vortex that is Speedispend. We can even hear the tinny blare of Xmas carols and pop tunes being played incessantly like some sort of ghastly medieval noise torture...
"Keep sculling, Geoffrey! for pity's sake keep sculling!"