To all my mates inside the drydocks and outside, plus the lovely people I met in the bars around Bormla:

I owe you so much. I was a little boy from Sliema when I started my apprenticeship in the dockyard. To be honest my parents wanted me to be a pen pusher.

I'm 57 now, but I remember it very well. The very first time I came and saw what happened at the drydocks I was petrified, seeing all those men in boiler suits (in the 1970s there were 10,000 workmen at the drydocks). There were ships in all five docks, and more waiting to come in. I remember saying to another apprentice, 'I'm out of here! This is not for me'.

I did not sleep that night and to this very day I think it changed my life and made me a better man. I couldn't help noticing how happy these dirty-faced workmen looked. I decided to give it a go for a few weeks. I just got hooked; I realised these workmen didn't just build ships, they built real men.

After a few months I was one of them (and still am). I was proud that they dropped my name, and started to call me by a nickname (damdima).

I'd love to thank all those who taught me the trade as a welder, those lovely people in the pubs in Bormla and Senglea, and of course the lovely girls that served drinks behind the bar. They all made me who I am now. I can walk anywhere with my head held up high, because I lived and worked with real people.

This happened again with my late sister Anna. She was like me, from Sliema and living in a bubble. Once she started to socialise with you she became a completely different and better individual. We became closer than ever once she gained your friendship. I need not tell you she died a hero, like all those workers who died doing their job. I can still remember some of them.

I have been missing the life of the drydocks for a very long time. I've lived in the UK for more than 30 years. I still tell great stories to my friends and their children and my two daughters.

I did come to have a look three years ago with a very good friend of mine, Tony Mangion. Honestly my great friends I cried my eyes out. It was like a morgue. I just wanted to get out of there. What have they done to the place where I was reborn?

What more can I say, but thank you all so much for making me and my sister walk tall for having been accepted by you lovely people.