DanTribe
Well-Known Member
We wanted a quiet couple of days to recover from a wet and windy 2 weeks East Coast cruise.
Saturday; Windguru promised the wind would drop on Saturday evening, so off we go to our favourite remote creek.
Sure enough the wind drops in early evening and it's a beautiful peaceful time, just the skylarks singing and seal pups calling their mums.
Over the sea wall pops a paraglider. That's interesting, there's another, and another.... I think paragliders look fun, but fifteen, yes FIFTEEN buzzing round overhead for a few hours can get tedious.
Never mind, it gets dark about 10 0/C and they all land. But its light again at 0430 and some of them are off again.
Sunday; Grandaughters come for the day, so no chance of peace and quiet.
Monday; Decide to steal an extra day. A nice gentle sail up river and pick a spot near the bank for elevenses. Almost get the anchor down when up pops Strimmer Man to trim the sea wall. This one seems to have fitted an amplifier instead of a silencer. We elect not to stop.
A few miles back down river we pick another spot near the bank to anchor for lunch. So peaceful, just those skylarks again. As the boat lies back on the anchor, over the sea wall pops another hi-vis jacket, this time with an amplified hedge trimmer which he uses to cut the grass. This isn't a very efficient tool as he has to bend double to use it and so he moves very slowly away from us. After half an hour he is 1/4 mile away and normal conversation can be continued. [no criticism of the man, he was a worker, no question, but give him a proper bit of kit].
As the trimmer fades into the distance, two PWCs appear from an empty river and decide that we need to appreciate all their skills. Amazing things, they can go in straight lines, circles, stop and start whilst making a high screamed buzzing noise and WAA- WAA sounds. And they can keep this up for ages without getting bored, as long as they have an audience of course.
So back to the mooring where a group of teenagers are practicing the art of shouting foul language as loudly as possible.. They are very skilled and if there's an Olympic event we should do well.
We go home to listen to the neighbours cut their grass.
I'm not paranoid, they really are out to get me.
Saturday; Windguru promised the wind would drop on Saturday evening, so off we go to our favourite remote creek.
Sure enough the wind drops in early evening and it's a beautiful peaceful time, just the skylarks singing and seal pups calling their mums.
Over the sea wall pops a paraglider. That's interesting, there's another, and another.... I think paragliders look fun, but fifteen, yes FIFTEEN buzzing round overhead for a few hours can get tedious.
Never mind, it gets dark about 10 0/C and they all land. But its light again at 0430 and some of them are off again.
Sunday; Grandaughters come for the day, so no chance of peace and quiet.
Monday; Decide to steal an extra day. A nice gentle sail up river and pick a spot near the bank for elevenses. Almost get the anchor down when up pops Strimmer Man to trim the sea wall. This one seems to have fitted an amplifier instead of a silencer. We elect not to stop.
A few miles back down river we pick another spot near the bank to anchor for lunch. So peaceful, just those skylarks again. As the boat lies back on the anchor, over the sea wall pops another hi-vis jacket, this time with an amplified hedge trimmer which he uses to cut the grass. This isn't a very efficient tool as he has to bend double to use it and so he moves very slowly away from us. After half an hour he is 1/4 mile away and normal conversation can be continued. [no criticism of the man, he was a worker, no question, but give him a proper bit of kit].
As the trimmer fades into the distance, two PWCs appear from an empty river and decide that we need to appreciate all their skills. Amazing things, they can go in straight lines, circles, stop and start whilst making a high screamed buzzing noise and WAA- WAA sounds. And they can keep this up for ages without getting bored, as long as they have an audience of course.
So back to the mooring where a group of teenagers are practicing the art of shouting foul language as loudly as possible.. They are very skilled and if there's an Olympic event we should do well.
We go home to listen to the neighbours cut their grass.
I'm not paranoid, they really are out to get me.
