If something has to change then it always will

I'm having weird fantasies about living in the 19th century and being a sailor. I would be called Heinrich and wear striped t-shirts all the time. I would sail on some huge vessel that actually was quite tiny - compared to crap such as the Queen Mary II or the like. I would get scurvy and lose lots of my teeth and then I would whistle through the gaps in my mouth. I would tell lies that would be called yarning instead. There'd be seagulls everywhere. And then, when old and weak I would just fall overboard and die the honest sailor way...