The Badfort Crowd have moved into the Town Hall and put up a banner declaring that Homesea is now 'The Peoples Republic of Badsea".
The villagers do not seem to care about the name change. Our floating village has moved further south into a region of warm breezes, blue skies and sparkling clear water. It seems to have taken on a new life as if in a dream.
Everyday, cruise liners come alongside and disgorge hoards of rich tourists who pour along the cobbled streets buying trinkets from the antique shops and gorging themselves on cream teas.
In between the visits of the ships the village folk just seem to be basking in the sunshine and enjoying a life of new found wealth.
For the village is awash with dollars and other strange money, and the people have discovered 'retail therapy'. There is no shortage of goods for them to buy. Refrigerator ships full of food, cargo vessels filled with consumer goods - all stop by and sell their wares. Providing tax free goods for the shops, and every luxury the inhabitants can now afford.
Upmarket cars fill the streets, and with oil tankers passing us daily there is no shortage of fuel for these gas guzzlers.
Today, Beaver and his gang put tables, chairs and bright umbrellas outside the Town Hall and organised a parade to celebrate the 'glorious' republic.
As for me - well for the first time in my life I do not know what to do with myself.
I have taken legal advice - Beaver seems to have a cast iron case. I am no longer the owner of the village (I cannot bring myself to call it Badsea). When I do venture out onto the streets the villagers look away, sheepishly and clearly embarrassed at having deposed me.
I am a virtual exile in my tower - there is no longer, apparently, a requirement for a rich philanthropic elephant when everyone is a millionaire. No one wishing to heed my words of caution. No desire for the paternalistic advice, the wisdom of many years of governance.
In short - it seems I am redundant.
Who can blame them for their actions? It must feel like they have won the lottery. But, do they understand, like myself, the terrible burden that wealth carries?, do they understand where this careless and inappropriate spending might lead them?...and what further idiocies is Beaver planning?
Perhaps, as the Old Monkey keeps telling me, it is time to leave - to return to Homeward.