Taming the Thames

Part 2

http://www.med-living.com

So we got our 14-foot sailing dinghy to Havengore Creek in the early hours of the morning.
Havengore Creek taught me that that you can actually be f*cked by a swing bridge which doesn’t at 4 in the morning.
I kid you not.
To those of you who read the enthralling first part to this epic saga, and are back for episode two.
For those of you determined to read on, despite having read the first episode, I sincerely hope you recover with treatment. Time they say is a great healer.
Anyway, I digress.
We had sailed proudly into Havengore Creek, ready to continue on our journey in a fourteen-foot dinghy to Hullbridge in Essex.
I say sailed proudly, anyone is entitled to a little journalistic licence.
We were cold, tired, soaked to the skin and suffering from third degree burns from that joyous instrument of terror, the Primus Stove.
We had failed to heat the tin of curry, and had eaten it cold, heavily seasoned with a teasing sauce of agua de sea.
Apparently the Americans have devised a method of extracting information from terror suspects enjoying their free holiday in the Hotel Guantanamo Bay.
It’s called the water torture, and has caused questions as to its legality to be raised worldwide.
Has no one told them that five minutes with a Primus Stove can reduce a grown man to the status of a well done BBQ sausage.
And it’s legal.
Did we make it? Read on...

Taming the Thames

I was asked recently if I was a “yachtie”. Me!
Me what sailed the squalls and tempests of the Regents Park boating lake reliving Swallows and Amazons.
Me that had the distinction of sailing my full rigged schooners so fast I beat the Isle of Wight ferry.
OK , I was rowing and the first I knew about the ferry was when his air horns nearly blasted me out of the water coz I was rowing right across its path!
Me what sailed from Old Leigh in Essex to Hullbridge in a 14’ dinghy.
A trip we’d planned to take 4 hours.
We cast off, ramming very few moored boats, and set our sails towards the setting sun.
Actually the sun was behind us, but it didn’t sound so good, and you couldn’t see it anyway as it disappeared after an hour as mist closed in.
So we headed towards our destination sailing serenely along the Essex coast.
Maybe 5 hours into our 2 hour journey I began to suspect that my seafaring mate was not the old sea dog he’d professed to be.
I was even more sure when he brought out his nautical map, an A to Z of London streets.
Give him his due, there was a blue line which said river Thames.
Then the rain started.
Not gentle little drops, but the sort of rain that fills a little dinghy in a matter of minutes…so we both sheltered snugly under a paper carrier bag.
We got wet!
By the time the rain had stopped, the skipper announced that we would not reach our destination in the time allotted, highly perceptive of him as it was now 9pm and we’d been sailing for seven hours!
So much for two hours.
I forgot to mention that my mate, the skipper, was employed by Fords as scheduler…no wonder they had difficulty in making cars on time!
Read the rest of the sail of the century!

Mediterranean Living

I feel a laugh coming on...

She was blonde and beautiful and it was her first time in the saddle.
The guy of her dreams had invited her to go horse riding with him, with stars in her eyes she had agreed.
Now it was just the two of them, slowly cantering along the beach.
Her body was alive with thoughts of making love in the gentle surf as it broke on the beach.
But then something frightened her golden steed.
Sharply it veered off and picked up speed as it began to gallop out of control.
Faster and faster it sped, she hung on in fear of her life.
Then as quickly as it had started to run, the horse stopped and reared up, jigh on its hind legs.
She felt herself falling backwards with her foot caught in the stirrup, and she fell heavily, head first to the ground.
Her horse didn’t stop andh her head bounced on the ground as the horse would not stop or even slow down.
She felt herself losing consciousness…
Then her money ran out, she jumped off the roundabout and ran to the candy floss stall.
Which reminds me that taking Viagra like an attraction at Disneyland.
You have to wait an hour for a two minute ride!

My mate Ian is a kid at heart.
The other day he was in his back yard is trying to fly a kite.
Every time he threw it into the air, the wind would catch it for a few seconds then it comes crashing back down.
But Ian’s no quitter.
He persevered, throwing the kite and watching it nose dive into the ground.
So his wife is watching all this from the kitchen window.
Then the window opens and she yells to Ian, “You need more tail."
Ian turned slowly round, and through gritted teeth shouted, , "Make up yer ferkin mind, last night in bed you told me to go fly a kite!"

I was backstage at the theatre the other day, I just love the atmosphere just before curtain up.
We were putting on the ballet, The Nutcracker Suite. Just writing it makes my eyes water!
Anyway, all but two of the ballerinas were in costume early for the matinee performance.
At 1:55 the distressed director, flapping like a Prima Donna himself, asked these two ballerinas in the chorus why they were not yet in costume.
“It’s five minutes to curtain up”, he trilled.
If he’d flapped any more he would have taken off quicker than the curtain could rise!
So Cyntia looks at him haughtily and says, "I never dress until 1:58, bad luck you see"
His eyes flashing murderousñy through his eye-liner, he turned to other dancer and pouted, “And what about you, luvvey, don’t tell me you’re superstitious too?" he asked.
"Oh yes”, she flounced, her eyes showing absolute distaste, “I have a two to two tutu, too!”