Saturday 30th November - Thoughts of the Stick wi' the 'or ses 'ead 'andle
Saturday 30th November – Thoughts of the Stick wi’ the ‘orses ‘ead ‘andle
They didn’t think much to the ocean,
The waves was all fiddlin’ an’ small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded,
Fact, nuthin’ to laff at at all
sympathise a bit with the family Ramsbothom here. Perhaps not as much as I do a little
later, once Albert becomes lion food together with his stick wi’ the ‘orses ‘ead ‘andle (but,
remarkably, not his cap). Yankee
chums feeling a bit unsighted here should Google ‘Albert and the Lion’ (or,
possibly, ‘The Lion and Albert’) to locate what I anticipate may be, for them, a
previously undiscovered gem of classic English poetry to rival the worst of
Shakespeare. It was, I seem to
recall, one of the more important parts of the repertoire of the inestimable
The point is that it’s all been a bit dull really for the last 24 hours. Somehow a 1,000 NM journey is neither one thing nor the other. It’s long enough to require you to settle into a routine but short enough for you to have the destination and the tactics for getting there in mind most of the time. I am reminded of a splendid birthday card sent to me by Clare Babe a couple of years ago which had an illustration of a dog lazily steering a sailing boat in the middle of the ocean. Sunglasses and all that stuff. Above the illustration was the title ‘Zen Dog’. Below it was the doggerel (yeah, yeah, move on please):
He knows not where he’s going,
For the oceans will decide,
It’s not the destination,
But the glory of the ride.
Well, that’s right, but once you are within striking distance of the destination it’s difficult to think of anything but getting in. And waves that are all “fiddlin’ an’ small” are probably associated with winds that aren’t getting on with it enthusiastically enough. We’ve had somewhat idle winds and have managed to sail for around 12 of the past 24 hours. And, Hector has appeared to enjoy that although he is not much given to sharing the one thought he conjures up a decade with anyone else. So you have to kinda guess.
Mr Perkins has shouldered his responsibilities once more and continues to drive us south in collaboration with the mainsail and yankee. The light NW wind is of some help here but only once Mr P has brought it forward enough to bite. It’s looking like a lot of motoring from now until we get to Opua sometime on Monday morning.
Mr Perkins; your job may not be glamorous but y’know what? You are a star. Quite unlike that useless bit of junk that calls itself an aux gen set. You are the main man! Get us home!