Life on Board
small child grasping a sausage plunged off the deck in amongst that lot of snapping jawed cutthroats. I dare not think.
There have been some amusing incidents at the marina and I can remember with horror the first time I arrived blissfully unaware for my first shower. Humming cheerfully, I stopped dead in my tracks after walking in to the showers, only to see through the clouds of steam, a gang of nude men, all cheerily foaming up. Communal showers…oh no! Being a Pom I suppose I must be naturally bashful, never having been to Public school, of course. This was a shock. Desperately, I looked around to see if there were separate cubicles and there was…just one. Trouble was some black hearted fiend had scrawled in big letters above the door, ‘Wooses Corner’. I was sunk. Bugger. I had no choice. Ok fast and foamy it was to be. I threw off all my gear, acting casually and slunk to the furthest vacant tap. Modestly facing the wall, I lathered up, however, there was more to come.
One of the misty figures was a plump, jolly old salt, round of belly and white of beard. He was happily laughing and larking around with all the others. I happened to notice that he was sadly, one of natures unfortunates, having been badly placed at the end of the queue when nature bestowed her gifts to man. The thought actually crossed my mind he had an unfortunate and terrible accident, but no, there were signs of residence, albeit mini button mushroom size, to say the least. Suddenly, through the steam strode another figure, Adonis in the flesh. Six foot plus, brown, handsome and long of hair…long of something else he was too, by God and to a man, we all fell silent as he strode proudly to the shower, bearing his handsome (and enviable) share of natures riches. Before he could reach to turn on his tap, the bandy old white haired salt had strode up to him, hands on hips and surveyed him wondrously up and down…finally he laughed out loud and said, “Jesus mate, you’re bloody beautiful, aren’t youze!” I have never heard so much laughter in a man’s shower and much later that night in the bar, I noticed Adonis and the crusty old salt having a drink. It crossed my mind that I had shared a shower and a beer with probably the biggest and the smallest members of the yacht club! Happily, for my dented pride I can announce the showers have been rebuilt and cubicles abound!
Another funny thing happened one day as I sat on the stern of my boat. I heard a splash and turned around to see some large ripples pooling around the stern of a deserted boat. I had seen the parents and the kids leaving earlier so no one on board had heard anything. As I watched, I saw a black stick surface and start to head outwards away from the boat. I believed that it must have been a fishing rod, the handle full of air. Jumping in to my dinghy, I determined to rescue the rod and put it back on the yacht. As I got nearer, sure enough I saw it was a rod and so I grabbed it and hauled it aboard. It hadn’t occurred to me that something had pulled it in, I just assumed that it had fallen in. Suddenly the rod clattered and to my shock the line tautened like a guitar string and pulled the head of the dinghy right around. Astounded, I sat there wondering what the hell it was that could be towing my dinghy but whatever it was, it must be huge. (It didn’t help that my partner, Nicky, who was nice and safe on the deck of our boat, was loudly humming the theme tune to Jaws) I nervously grabbed the rod and reeling like mad, the rod bent double and I finally saw a large shadow rise up from the depths. Horrified, I saw it was a huge ray, probably about four feet long…the wings were huge and it looked really peed off. Luckily for me, it gave a wrench and dived back down, the line breaking off. Shaken, I quickly rowed back and left the hookless rod back on the boat. I didn’t tell the kids later when they returned but I bet they wondered what had chomped their hook and sinker. As for me, I have still got visions of those huge eyes and that damn great spike rising up out of the water. I am not so sure about fishing now, after all is said and done and I really don’t like to walk on the pontoons after dark at all!
Certain forfeits have to be made on board also. Many boats boast cabins so small that if you turn round quickly you will meet yourself coming in but one gets used to that, except, god forbid, if you happen to be over 5’ 3” tall. You then develop a sort of crunched up and peculiar crab like walk that immediately announces you as a nautical type. TV too, can be taxing. One must be patient if, as like me, you like F1 racing for example. After sitting up until 2.30 in the morning, the race is near to an end with the leaders neck and neck. Suddenly a gust of wind blows the head off by about 2 degrees and your already snowy picture