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| It's a Dog's life! |
John F. Kennedy
And so it was that last weekend myself and a few other hardy souls decided to test out our amphibian beginnings - with a difference - we were on the water not in it! Arriving at Port Solent in a decidedly 'moderate' breeze we began preparations to set off sailing. My only real concern was the frequent 'mayday' requests on the radio, until our Skipper, in his wisdom decided to turn it off. Good move Captain, or you might have been peeling me off the mast of the lovely 'Breezy Moment' (aptly named) that was berthed next to us. All was good; the winds were brisk; the mood upbeat; even the sandwiches were demolished in quick time; and then. Then. The boat, egged on by its crew, began to pirouette and show off, dancing across the waves, with slightly less grace than a ballet dancer but making up for it with enthusiasm. Pitching, rolling, ducking, my stomach nearly ch*****ng. "I'm sure we're going the wrong way" I tried to protest as I gazed longingly towards the disappearing coastline. Anyway, Nab Point was reached and we made for Chichester Harbour where a good night out put paid to dodgy stomachs. Early the next morning, before anyone was about I sat up on deck. The mist lay low all about the boats, lending it a ghostly air. There was the ocassional splosh of a jumping fish and on the bow lines of the next door boat, several Swallows argued and tittered. It was one of those rare moments of peace and one I will remember in the busyness of the weeks ahead. It didn't end there either, as on Monday I braved Wimbledon to watch Martha ball-girl - hot and humid, it was nevertheless a great day out - if only to watch Murray romp through his match with ease. I'm not sure I was any use at all on the boat, so thanks to you pro's for doing the lion's share, whilst I lay on deck sunbathing and reading. When did you say we're going again...?!
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| 'Salty Sea-dogs' |
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| In the Solent |
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| Round the Island Yacht Race |
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