NIPPING out to buy some fags and a bottle of booze had never proved as difficult as this in the past.

What seemed like the perfect job turned out to be the assignment from hell.

"We want you to go out and treat yourself to as many cigarettes and bottles of brandy as you can carry," were my orders from on high.

Sounds good, I thought.

Twenty-four hours later and I'm not so sure.

We've made three attempts to get to Britain's first offshore off-licence, but have been beaten back by the weather each time.

True, we could have gone to the local supermarket to stock up, but you know how it is. You can never find a parking space, they're always full of naughty children, you have to wait what seems like hours at the checkout.

And I hate those trolleys.

Anyway, after hearing about the cut-price deals on offer 13 miles out in the North Sea aboard a 72ft yacht, it seemed too good a deal to pass up.

The Rich Harvest is stocked with a range of cigarettes priced from £15 to £24 for 200 and litres of spirits -brandy, vodka, gin and whisky -from £6 a litre.

It beats the prices in English supermarkets and it certainly beats a trip to Calais.

Entrepreneur Philip Berriman sails to Europe, buys the cigarettes and alcohol cheaply, pays EU tax on them and brings them back.

And because his yacht is moored in international waters, more than 12 miles off the coast, he says he is able to resell them without breaking the law.

Customs and Excise officials are investigating the matter and say Philip could be breaching regulations, but are unable to say which ones.

Such a row was not going to deter these two shoppers, wallets newly loaded, intent on stocking up on goods half the price they would usually be.

But a storm of a different kind was brewing.

After securing the services of Hartlepool-based angling boat skipper Charlie Parker on what was a beautiful, still morning, the forecast became a worry, with gale-force winds from the North-East in the afternoon.

Charlie, good bloke he is, said he was prepared to take us, but we had to be sure.

We were, until we got out there.

Heading straight into the teeth of the wind, riding 7ft waves and trying to dodge wash coming over the cabin could loosely be described as fun.

Having to do it for more than an hour-and-a-half could equally, and probably more accurately, be described as hell.

The first trip was over after less than a mile, and the second attempt a short while later, after returning a television camerman to shore to protect his equipment, lasted a little longer, before some of the crew of journalists feared for their safety.

Later in the afternoon, after the wind died down, we gave it another go.

This time we got almost five miles out before illness on board curtailed the shopping trip.

Back on shore last night, we were left wondering if a trip to Tesco is such an ordeal after all.

But the truth is I had a whale of a time trying my sea legs on my first ever booze cruise.

I'm watching the weather forecast with interest now, waiting for that biting nor'easter to swing round, die down or go altogether.

I'll be ringing Charlie again. I'll be back out there. I've still got my money to spend