The pubs and bars mentioned (including the Douglas Head [Hotel] where Wack got whacked out on his back) no longer exist here in the Isle of Man (Ellan Vannin), so the song is interesting as a social document, even for that, let alone the deportation issue.

'Wack' is perhaps strange, because 'wack' or 'wacker' is traditionally a name for a Liverpudlian, but probably of 1930/40 vintage. Many of these sort of nicknames were used in the army, so a Liverpudlian automatically became Wack[er]. But here he is in the song, one of the Dublin lads.

As a holiday playground, if things got out of hand (as in the song), one of the things the Manx police/courts could do was send people home and insist they didn't come back to the Island within a certain number of years.

However, recently there was a case where somebody who had been resident here for ten months was told to leave the Island and not return for five years following some sort of anti-social motoring offence.

The common repost to anyone belly-aching about the Island is to say that there's a boat at 9 o'clock in the morning - be on it!

So yes, deportation is still with us, even outside the realms of asylum-seekers!

Shoh slaynt,

Bobby Bob