tcm
...
Longjohnsadler was sitting on his boat one day when he slightly hurt his hand, and a nearby boaty type was a bit strange and said something in English even tho, see, the flag of their boat was German. Or perhaps it was Irish which looks similar, ish, but anyway, it was very fishy indeed.
He immediately put out international invitations for Parahandy and Tcm to pay him a visit to discuss his concerns about the strange goings-on along this otherwise quiet shore of western ireland.
As they sat on ljs's boat at its mooring, idly bobing about in another Atlantic near-gale, they noticed that it was very peculiar how a ferry boat went from the harbour out to an island - and then back again. There was also another boat, but that was nothing to do with anything. Very strange.
Eventually, the crew could stand it no longer, so they dinghied back to the car and went to the pub for a few pints of Guinness. Then, they went for a sail and the radar dome cover flew off, which might have been the fault of the furtive locals, maybe.
The next day the locals were sailing dinghies around the bay to make it look like a sailing club. Para and tcm and ljs watchd them suspiciously, hm. And one of them came over in the rescue boat to Invite Them To Dinner, which was obviously very shady indeed.
All the pieces were beginning to fall into place. Para made a fish pie and fixed the radar thing a bit, and they all incredibly skilfully took the dinghy about 600 yards ashore navigating just using their senses. Mainly, they used their sight.
Ljs asked the members of the saling club innocent-sounding questions and it transpired that the sailing club was actually an ofshoot of a similar french club. Yes, French! Which is nearly as bad as things being German in a sort of ooer dodgy-sounding way. It seemed entirely possible that there could be an invasion fleet of dinghies, maybe. By the light of a bonfire on the beach, one chap explained how he would get his boat ashore for the winter by digging a hole, somehow,and then when the tide went out it could be lifted by a crane. Was this part of the dastardly plan as well? Ljs had several more pints and they all went back to the boat to consider things very carefully by sleeping until about 10:30 am.
In the morning, sure enough, a strange tractor pulled a horsebox along the shore and some sheep got out. Hm. But none of this explained the radar arch falling off, or the fishy sounding plans of putting a sailing boat in a hole, nor especially the possible French Dinghy Invasion.
Fortunately, it all worked out ok, and France didn't invade Ireland or anywhere else, making the story neatly yet dissappointingly reflect reality. After a sail to a nearby island, para and tcm and ljs all had to go back to work which never seems to happen in detective stories espcially far-fetched ones based in 1901. However, in a forthcoming flim verison of this story, Jenny Agutter or similarly updated classy crumpet would definitely get her kit off, unlike the otherwise similar Riddle of the Sands where she didn't and hence one wonders why she was in that film at all, just turning up on the boat and then dashing off a few times, and never even getting close to taking her kit off at all. Pah.
Anyway, it fortunately all turned out fine, and ljs got his boat ashore eventually. But I will always remeber the Riddle of The Peat Bog, which might not have been a riddle at all. Or was it? No, probably not. Or maybe? Perhaps? Okay, no, it probably wasn't.
He immediately put out international invitations for Parahandy and Tcm to pay him a visit to discuss his concerns about the strange goings-on along this otherwise quiet shore of western ireland.
As they sat on ljs's boat at its mooring, idly bobing about in another Atlantic near-gale, they noticed that it was very peculiar how a ferry boat went from the harbour out to an island - and then back again. There was also another boat, but that was nothing to do with anything. Very strange.
Eventually, the crew could stand it no longer, so they dinghied back to the car and went to the pub for a few pints of Guinness. Then, they went for a sail and the radar dome cover flew off, which might have been the fault of the furtive locals, maybe.
The next day the locals were sailing dinghies around the bay to make it look like a sailing club. Para and tcm and ljs watchd them suspiciously, hm. And one of them came over in the rescue boat to Invite Them To Dinner, which was obviously very shady indeed.
All the pieces were beginning to fall into place. Para made a fish pie and fixed the radar thing a bit, and they all incredibly skilfully took the dinghy about 600 yards ashore navigating just using their senses. Mainly, they used their sight.
Ljs asked the members of the saling club innocent-sounding questions and it transpired that the sailing club was actually an ofshoot of a similar french club. Yes, French! Which is nearly as bad as things being German in a sort of ooer dodgy-sounding way. It seemed entirely possible that there could be an invasion fleet of dinghies, maybe. By the light of a bonfire on the beach, one chap explained how he would get his boat ashore for the winter by digging a hole, somehow,and then when the tide went out it could be lifted by a crane. Was this part of the dastardly plan as well? Ljs had several more pints and they all went back to the boat to consider things very carefully by sleeping until about 10:30 am.
In the morning, sure enough, a strange tractor pulled a horsebox along the shore and some sheep got out. Hm. But none of this explained the radar arch falling off, or the fishy sounding plans of putting a sailing boat in a hole, nor especially the possible French Dinghy Invasion.
Fortunately, it all worked out ok, and France didn't invade Ireland or anywhere else, making the story neatly yet dissappointingly reflect reality. After a sail to a nearby island, para and tcm and ljs all had to go back to work which never seems to happen in detective stories espcially far-fetched ones based in 1901. However, in a forthcoming flim verison of this story, Jenny Agutter or similarly updated classy crumpet would definitely get her kit off, unlike the otherwise similar Riddle of the Sands where she didn't and hence one wonders why she was in that film at all, just turning up on the boat and then dashing off a few times, and never even getting close to taking her kit off at all. Pah.
Anyway, it fortunately all turned out fine, and ljs got his boat ashore eventually. But I will always remeber the Riddle of The Peat Bog, which might not have been a riddle at all. Or was it? No, probably not. Or maybe? Perhaps? Okay, no, it probably wasn't.
