pugwash
New member
There's a lot of moralising among S'butters about snotties and stinkpots and jetskis and sundry nutters, but think on this.
Last week I picked up a mooring off Cargreen, soon to be the abode of our friend JJ (see "I've done it" thread below). It was a lovely evening, very high tide. Three other visiting yachts took adjacent buoys and we puttered ashore for dinner at the Spaniard. I didn't know them.
Around 9pm we happened to meet up at our dinghies. I had a lifejacket, a torch and my dinghy was on a long painter. None of the other crews had torches, lifejackets or painters long enough to keep their boats afloat and two were hanging on the wall while the third was attached to mine. None had paddles or oars, either (as far as I recall).
What especially horrified me was that the spring tide, now half out, was really racing. It was very dark. The other crews were about my own age (ie, early 60s), none of us the most nimble of individuals, especially the women. One small dinghy had four people in it, leaving no leeway at all for accidents.
All were pleasant, decent, keen and seemingly sensible people with well-kept boats and (I sensed) adequate qualifications. We chatted on the quayside while the women inched down the slimy ladder and stepped uneasily into the dinghies. Couldn't wish to meet a nicer crowd. Nobody was drunk but we'd all dined well.
Point is, these nice people were taking alarming risks. No threat to others, of course, but if an accident had happened that would have changed in an instant.
I think all of us have done silly things, I know I have, and the current shine of my halo is unusual. But it makes you think. Really, who are the nutters?
Last week I picked up a mooring off Cargreen, soon to be the abode of our friend JJ (see "I've done it" thread below). It was a lovely evening, very high tide. Three other visiting yachts took adjacent buoys and we puttered ashore for dinner at the Spaniard. I didn't know them.
Around 9pm we happened to meet up at our dinghies. I had a lifejacket, a torch and my dinghy was on a long painter. None of the other crews had torches, lifejackets or painters long enough to keep their boats afloat and two were hanging on the wall while the third was attached to mine. None had paddles or oars, either (as far as I recall).
What especially horrified me was that the spring tide, now half out, was really racing. It was very dark. The other crews were about my own age (ie, early 60s), none of us the most nimble of individuals, especially the women. One small dinghy had four people in it, leaving no leeway at all for accidents.
All were pleasant, decent, keen and seemingly sensible people with well-kept boats and (I sensed) adequate qualifications. We chatted on the quayside while the women inched down the slimy ladder and stepped uneasily into the dinghies. Couldn't wish to meet a nicer crowd. Nobody was drunk but we'd all dined well.
Point is, these nice people were taking alarming risks. No threat to others, of course, but if an accident had happened that would have changed in an instant.
I think all of us have done silly things, I know I have, and the current shine of my halo is unusual. But it makes you think. Really, who are the nutters?