Could be,,,,,,,,, shell fish too. The samphire beds, oysters, mussles, winkles and so forth are deadly to visitors, and navigation marks are laid to lead tourists into danger. Much better to buy food in tins and sail on the south coast where they like .trippers,,,,,,,,
I found a grockle sitting on my bar stool last Thursday,,,,,, tsk tsk.
IanW
<<navigation marks are laid to lead tourists into danger. >> You have obviously sailed into Tollesbury on a moonless night. Anything to report on your circumnavigation of (a lot of) these islands?
then why don't you go and play in the sewer as well huh ? equally brown , equally smelly , equally full of an infinite variety of life , equally full of Lilliputian forms and yes , it also slows us down to pay attention and it's horribly unglamorous too ! so what are you yanking about again ???
it's known that little kiddies do not to know the difference between mud and crap, so you will find the odd toddler playing around with his/her own little turd oozing little happy gurgles and happy sounds ... but you at your age Violetta ?? at least you are just over 25 now so you should know better , no ?? (correct me if I'm wrong on the age , I might be overestimating , don't want any hurt feelings now do we ? )
funny to note too that mud holds your anchor so well... how come you need this big mooring bolted through to Maoristan to hold your QE2 lookalike ??
all in my honest opinion of course , but then who am I ? ;-)
" Anything to report on your circumnavigation of (a lot of) these islands?"
Lots, but for now just this,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Avoid The Forth-Clyde Canal At All Costs ,,,,,like you would avoid Iraq or Afganistan. The tribesmen from Kirkentilloch and points west are NOT friendly. Think Rab C Nesbitt with knobs on.
You wicked, wicked ghostwriter. You know full well that you have been banned - BANNED, I SAY! - for being perfectly beastly to poor little me. You are an outcast, sir! A reprobate! A ruffian! Unfitted for polite society!
Pray leave this instant or I shall report you to "you know who"!
And should you venture to sully our pure and pristine mud with the hideous underparts of your unspeakable little s**tbarge (still without so much as a chamber pot for the comfort of civilised beings, I daresay) then, never fear, I shall be waiting and then you shall see something to make you stretch your eyes!
Who are you, indeed? Have a care sir. I and my cohorts know where you live!
for sure I am banned ma'am , and it is all your doing ... for how can one not become beastie to anyone craving and eulogising brown turdythingies spread all over what was supposed to be a shiny white Costa Tollesburrito ? it was supposed to be the Whitewater , and see what you made of it , the shame , the horror !
naah , sneakily this ghost has momentarily wriggled itself past the Scyllae and Charybdii of the YBW gates , just this once, as there was a real need , an urgency since it's apparent that the witch in you has once again been hypnotising all these innocent and pure souls into the false religion of muddhism !
if and when we venture to the shittyshittybrownbrown cost we will of course not be carrying any chamber pot , why would we , we just stick our fine bums over the rail and do the gentleman thing we do , dust to dust , ashes to ashes and brown to brown
psah , your cohorts....we piss on them
and now , the ghost will retreat into his ban, but before retreating , was it "unfitted for polite society" or "unfit for polite society"...us bananians just want to know about la lingua inglese.
As did that other enthusiast for East Coast mud, Joseph Conrad.
Indeed, you will recall that "Heart of Darkness" is set as a tale told by "Marlow" as "The Nellie,a cruising yawl..." swings to her anchor awaiting the tide in Sea Reach
Typical of the sort of things Bananians get up to, if you give them the ghost of a chance.
You shall be received, on condition that you promise to convert, forthwith, to the Muddhist religion. Your instruction will commence upon your arrival. I, myself, shall be your mentor, guide and spiritual director. You shall join that happy band of which Mirelle, Cobra, Ian and others too numerous to mention are numbered amongst the distinguished elders.
When may we expect you?
<hr width=100% size=1><P ID="edit"><FONT SIZE=-1>Edited by Violetta on 16/08/2004 15:06 (server time).</FONT></P>
see, what more proof can one want about the nasty side-effects of that turdybrown stuff covering your shore ? put yourself at anchor overthere for a while , inhale those nasty fumes and next you start to write the mother of all porkies , the masterpiece of delusion... at least the title of the book is explained now too : the heart of darkness , muddy dark , mud , ooze , slime , creepy crawling creatures. geezes, they should make mud illegal , it's worse than cannabis !
you sure GWB has not been on the eastcoast for a while , I think I'm on to something here , maybe all his little and big lies can be attributed to muddhism ? is that why our auntie does not dare to show here face anymore on yonder side ? she , the high priest of muddhism , the religion of the future ?
When the Icelanders have the wits to flog the muck from around a power plant cooling outfall at $36.90 for 200 ml and upwards to daft Americans, surely you Bradwell denizens could really "clean up"!
Hitherto, I saw as through a pair of old sailing specs, muddily. But since the specs have dropped from my eyes (through the benevolent agency of a MudAngel that took the temporary form of a flailing genoa sheet) and gone home to the bosom of the Glaur* I see it all.
Friends, I now proclaim it:
I am the Muddha!
* What, I hear you ask, is this "glaur"? It is a holy substance well known unto our Hibernian friends, but since none appears to adhere to the true faith of Muddhism, I can now reveal that "glaur" is none other than drookit stour.
If perchance you navigation skills on this one occassion slip a little you merely slowly glide to a stop in a stately fashion and await via a bottle and some hearty vittals the gentle return of the tide.While admiring the marks left by your keel the last time you hit this bit.
None of this nasty rocks crash bash MAYDay MAYday picture in Lifeboat Monthly nonsense.
<hr width=100% size=1>Stupid place to leave an island anyway......