50:50.315S 057:35.515W

My
son Demetri celebrates a major life milestone today, and while thinking about
it, I realize it was virtually 40 years ago to the day when I disembarked in the
fog from a Greek Freighter in Tilbury Docks on the Anyway we have broken cloud and some sun which makes a huge
difference. In london when it’s
cloudy it’s warm, the cloud acts like a big blanket keeping the cold air out,
it’s just the opposite down here, when it’s cloudy it keeps the warm air
out. The wind has dropped below 10 knots so we are motoring
again. Still
motoring. Sunny afternoon. Very pleasant reading in the cockpit. There’s almost
enough wind to sail, but the temptation to keep on motoring is that we would get
in Saturday night in time for fish and chips. Our good friend Gabriele who lives
in On re-reading the books of your youth. This
afternoon I finished Lawrence Durrell’s Alexandria Quartet. This is a work I
read in my very early 20s a million years ago, and along with my college chum
Frank was very impressed by. I thought to read it again a few years ago but
loaned my copy to a Greek Egyptian from Then I got to the famous quote of Pursewarden’s, a literary writer
character in the “tetralogy.” See,
I’m getting the hang of it. On a
post card to DH Lawrence he wrote; “My Dear DHL. This side idolatry. I am simply trying not to copy your
habit of building a Taj Mahal around anything as simple as a good f---k.” Frank
and I were extremely impressed with this line and roared with laughter, indeed I
can still hear Frank chortling after all these years, but I’m afraid it hasn’t
quite got the same effect for me
any more. It is of course in many ways exactly what Durrell is doing in
“Justine” the first of the four. I will admit that as they progress you get
swept away by the work and it is certainly a monumental piece of writing. I just wish Durrell didn’t have to show
off so much his dexterity with language and all the touches, references and
linguistic detail, his intellectual erudition and thereby be so intimidating as
to make me feel stupid and inadequate. I feel much of Durrrell’s writing excludes the likes of me, an ordinary
mortal. But perhaps this is the desired objective of the English Oxbridge upper
class public school elite, to write in an intellectual code A more appropriate quote of Pursewarden’s
might be, “I have always believed in letting my reader sink or skim.” Tough
call. But enough of that, this is supposed to be a marine diary. 195 miles to
go. Steve is lying in hiding on the
aft deck, in a khaki jacket, a paparazzi with a long lens, waiting for that
perfect Hello Magazine picture…. only in this case the celebrity is a naked
Albatross. So we sink a bottle of Rose
in honour of Demetri. The Chef produces a pork casserole which is much better
than it sounds. And the motor goes on. Another cold grey morning with nearly no wind. Its 18 Degrees C below
decks( 62F) but it feels colder probabaly because of the damp. Only 100 or so miles to go so we should be in well before
dark. 24 Hour Run
194 miles, only 1 ½ hours under sail. 55 miles to go. ETA |