Twenty years ago, when Simon was a whippersnapper presenter on BBC Radio 1, he received thousands of letters from listeners confessing their darkest secrets and worst misdemeanours, begging for his forgiveness. Every day, Father Mayo read out a confession - and then he'd decide whether to grant forgiveness or not.

Now Confessions is back on BBC Radio 2 Drivetime. Read a Confession below, then Send Simon Your Confession

Dear Simon

This confession is to ask forgiveness, not just for myself, but for an entire Naval ships company (I can't say which as some may still be in the service!).

It's was the early 1980's and I was an engineer on one of Her Majesty's vessels which at the time was visiting a port on the Western coast of Europe. Most of the ships company, me included, were ashore doing what sailors do best when off duty, relaxing and taking in the sights, with particular emphasis placed on the local hostelries.

After a long day in the cafes of the nearest town we were walking back toward the docks when we happened to pass by a butchers shop. Outside this establishment by way of an advert, was a life size plastic butcher, hands on his hips, large black moustache, plastic straw boater and blue and white striped apron, you can picture the sort of thing.

At this point I feel I should make it clear that "relaxed" sailors are a lot like "relaxed" students and if it isn't nailed down we do have a tendency to re-locate or borrow suitable items. This seemed a perfect opportunity for just such a venture and so, without a further thought, myself and three others, we'll call them Tom, Dick and Harry, scooped up the plastic butcher and were on our way back to the docks as fast as we could.

We managed to get the butcher back on board the ship and down into the mess hall without being seen, just as the others arrived back with a collection of tables, chairs and umbrellas which they had commandeered from outside a cafe.

But... What were we going to do with all this stuff? Still feeling the effects of our day of relaxation someone suggested that we should tie the butcher to the mast with gaffer tape; and so in the middle of the night, with a few of the less relaxed crew on hand to help out, we did just that. Meanwhile the others set the café furniture up on the helicopter pad at the rear of the ship. Our work was done and we all retired to our messes and our pits, satisfied with our handy work.

Early next morning the ship left port and made its way out into the North Sea with the butcher and the café furniture still firmly in place.

This is when our plan started to go wrong...

Our Captain finally noticed the stowaway taped to his mast and the new café arrangement on his rear deck and went completely mad.

Of course no one owned up to the crimes and the Captain, having allocated suitable punishment, duly instructed us to get rid of all the evidence. So the butcher and the furniture were ejected directly into the North Sea without further delay. The furniture sunk with no problems as did the umbrellas with their cement bases but… the butcher refused to oblige… In fact he floated head and shoulders out of the water, bobbing up and down for all to see.

After numerous attempts to sink him we eventually had to admit defeat, as time against us and so the ship sailed on, leaving our plastic friend to float around in the North Sea in perpetuity.

We were nearly home when one of the on watch radio operators came running down to our mess with a face as white as a sheet.

Apparently he had just got word that a ship on its way into that same port on the west coast of Europe had reported sighting a man overboard and as a result there was now a major air sea rescue effort underway in the North sea with life boats and rescue helicopters.

I would like to ask for forgiveness for me and my ship mates...

Firstly for stealing the large plastic butcher...

Secondly for embarrassing not only our Captain but the entire Royal Navy…

And thirdly to the lifeboat and rescue services for wasting their time and money rescuing a plastic butcher.

(I have always tried to relieve my gilt by saying to myself that it was good practice for them.)

Yours truly,

Sharky