Friday 20th April, 2012

OK. Back from our two weeks sailing in the BVI. I am ashamed to say that whilst I didn't end up on a coral reef this time, I did have a Francesco Schettino moment. I don't know about you, but I am not that keen on fishes and other nasty things at large in the sea. I was trying very hard to be brave when we all went for a snorkelling expedition at the wreck of the Rhone and in fact I was quite pleased with myself at managing to dive some considerable depth and touch the rusty hull, carefully avoiding the barnacles. Anyway, having done that I quickly resurfaced and, deciding enough was enough, swam back the 100yards or so to the buoy where we had tied up our dinghy. My wife was already there waiting I presumed for assistance to clambour aboard, but as I arrived she whispered in my ear that I should help Lottie, our 11 year old, to get out the water...."quickly". "She's fine...doesn't look at all tired" I replied. "There's a shark" mouthed Sophie, urgently. "Get her out of there!" In my defence I was really quite calm and was about to help them both, but just at that point my other daughter Jimmy, even more scared of fish than I am and who had stayed on the dinghy avoiding the swim completely, looked at me and shrieked. "Yugh Daddy.....you're covered in blood." Climbing aboard an Avon inflatable from a wavy sea is no mean feat, but I shot out the water and was aboard before you could say SS Concordia. Forget this "women and children first" malarky. Fair enough though don't you think?....I wouldn't be doing anyone a favour pouring blood in the sea trying to keep a shark at bay. Anyway all ended fine. I had suffered a nose bleed, the result of my deep dive. And the shark, it transpired, was a 6 ft nurse which was dozing lazily on the sea bed where it became the subject of close attention from Bob who, I have to admit, is both a better diver than me and a bit braver. You wonder why I dislike fish so much?......the whole fortnight was very little to do with sailing really. Instead of a 38ft catamaran we might aswell have been on a trawler off the West Coast of Scotland. When I think about it my time was rarely spent on navigation or trimming the sails. Instead it was about setting the engine to achieve a steady 5.5 knots, tiptoeing about the deck trying to avoid bits of fetid bacon and bare hooks, fixing rods, untangling lines, flailing around with a gaff, gutting, filleting and barbequeing various varieties that were landed...and dealing with Jimmy in the middle of the night when she was struck down with ciguatera fish poisoning. Hate them. There was though a joyful moment at 10.00pm one evening when Bob decided there was still time in the day to have another crack at the fish off the back of the boat and caught a 10lb blackfinned tuna which fought like the very devil. Now that was fun, the best bit of which was seeing Hen, a surprising enthusiast when it comes to this sport, emerging at speed from her cabin, dressed in just a bedsheet, knife in hand to finish the poor thing off. Back on the subject of bravery we decided to stave off jet lag last Saturday by heading out to buy some more chickens. Three Wellsommers, a Light Sussex, a Black Pekin and a silver tipped bantam Wynadotte. Oh and the nice man gave us for free a magnificent strutting Brahma cockerel which we've called Swagatam. It's important to give your chickens names. We put a lot of thought into that. There wasn't room for the Wynadotte in the cardboard box so she travelled home on Sophie's lap perched on an AA road map of Great Britain. Whilst we were struggling to come up with a name her there was suddenly a commotion and a nasty mess appeared on the map happily obliterating only Norwich which I have no intention of visiting anyway. So Norwich she is. PS. I note ruefully reports today that a Singaporean businessman has decided against bidding for a bankrupt Scottish institution. No David.....wrong attitude. PPS. My vegetable garden is coming along nicely and who cares about the hosepipe ban. It has barely stopped raining since they implemented it. Bit worried about my late autumn raspberry canes though. Four out of five of them look very dead.