kilkerr1
Well-Known Member
Dear hearties
Just back from long-awaited week away on ickle boat (last cruise on St T before she's sold on, bless her brave heart...) and felt I had to sing some praises. More from me soon, including questions of a most daft nature, but before then...
How fabulous is Yarmouth IOW? Little 22' saily boat enters harbour, bigger, more expensive yachts before her, and her two brave crew wet, tired but happy after a 'lively' days' sailing. This a few days ago. We are met by a young antipodean who takes our details and decides on a suitable berth within about five seconds. He starts to describe our passage to said berth. To me, unfortunately, which is never a good idea as my sense of direction is pure sh...
"OK, just at the end of...", he can see my eyes have glazed over, so continues "Just follow me, I'll show you", with all the patience of a saint. HWMO turns St T towards the harbour master's commanding finger - and the engine stops. Kiwi chap putters off, unaware of our lack of forward motion and fully expecting us to follow. We find ourselves drifting towards the soon-to-depart ferry. Furious activity from HWMO at the engine end of the boat while I clutch my boathook on the foredeck, as if this will effect an instant solution. Much banging. Much twanging. Many expletives.
I am scared.
Within a couple of heartbeats, however, two harbour master dorys appear from nowhere, one at the bow, one aft. Without fuss they both take a line and tow us a little way in to the marina while HWMO kicks at the engine with a heavily-booted foot. During this complex and delicate operation he thanks the aft dory guy for the assistance. "We only like to watch people struggle for so long," is his twinkling reply. For some reason this makes me laugh so much I nearly fall off the boat. Classy, no?
Anyway, the two dorys hold us safely until HWMO starts the engine. In the meantime, our Kiwi friend has noticed that we aren't following and rushes back to our aid. With much gnashing of teeth and rending of blonde hair, he offers truly heartfelt apologies that he hasn't taken more notice of our plight. I am fully expecting him to cast himself into the inky depths as reparation.
But instead, and much more usefully, he guides us to our berth, and makes sure he stays to see us safely tucked up. I haven't stopped grinning since and have newely-renewed faith in the human heart.
Alright, that last was a tad overblown. What I really meant to say was aren't the guys at Yarmouth fabulous..? I'm sure many of you are used to it but...dagnabbit, aren't they?! And why aren't all harbours/marinas like that? (Answers one a postcard...)
Just back from long-awaited week away on ickle boat (last cruise on St T before she's sold on, bless her brave heart...) and felt I had to sing some praises. More from me soon, including questions of a most daft nature, but before then...
How fabulous is Yarmouth IOW? Little 22' saily boat enters harbour, bigger, more expensive yachts before her, and her two brave crew wet, tired but happy after a 'lively' days' sailing. This a few days ago. We are met by a young antipodean who takes our details and decides on a suitable berth within about five seconds. He starts to describe our passage to said berth. To me, unfortunately, which is never a good idea as my sense of direction is pure sh...
"OK, just at the end of...", he can see my eyes have glazed over, so continues "Just follow me, I'll show you", with all the patience of a saint. HWMO turns St T towards the harbour master's commanding finger - and the engine stops. Kiwi chap putters off, unaware of our lack of forward motion and fully expecting us to follow. We find ourselves drifting towards the soon-to-depart ferry. Furious activity from HWMO at the engine end of the boat while I clutch my boathook on the foredeck, as if this will effect an instant solution. Much banging. Much twanging. Many expletives.
I am scared.
Within a couple of heartbeats, however, two harbour master dorys appear from nowhere, one at the bow, one aft. Without fuss they both take a line and tow us a little way in to the marina while HWMO kicks at the engine with a heavily-booted foot. During this complex and delicate operation he thanks the aft dory guy for the assistance. "We only like to watch people struggle for so long," is his twinkling reply. For some reason this makes me laugh so much I nearly fall off the boat. Classy, no?
Anyway, the two dorys hold us safely until HWMO starts the engine. In the meantime, our Kiwi friend has noticed that we aren't following and rushes back to our aid. With much gnashing of teeth and rending of blonde hair, he offers truly heartfelt apologies that he hasn't taken more notice of our plight. I am fully expecting him to cast himself into the inky depths as reparation.
But instead, and much more usefully, he guides us to our berth, and makes sure he stays to see us safely tucked up. I haven't stopped grinning since and have newely-renewed faith in the human heart.
Alright, that last was a tad overblown. What I really meant to say was aren't the guys at Yarmouth fabulous..? I'm sure many of you are used to it but...dagnabbit, aren't they?! And why aren't all harbours/marinas like that? (Answers one a postcard...)
