Sometimes, when I feel lonely, I cycle all the way to the West harbor and sit on the dock of the bay, like in the song by Ottis Reeding, and throw pretzel pieces to the sea.
I like to imagine that by changing the dietary habits of the fishes they will feel confused and start munching the ropes holding the ships by the shore. Then I imagine how a sea of wandering ships would look like, sort of like a Casper party without ghostly high fives.