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Published: August 2nd 2011
Skipper at the Tiller
A jolly afternoon's sailing in the South Atlantic - I keep having to pinch myself to make sure that I'm really here!
Tuesday 2nd August
I really can’t get the hang of the seasons out here. The Saints claim that it is winter although it many respects most days are like a decent English summer. However, each successive morning seems a little bit darker and gloomier and the midges are well and truly about. It would almost seem like autumn, which the locals claim not to have and being in the southern hemisphere shouldn’t we be moving towards spring? And how come the stars are different here – what is it with there being a Southern Cross but no Plough? As I get older I am constantly surprised about how little I know about so many things. I must go and check what direction the water takes going down the plughole! I will let you know …
Talking of water you will, of course, need to know a little about my sailing venture. I didn’t go to too much trouble when purchasing getting kitted out for the occasion – I didn’t want to go over the top and look too much like a Rear Admiral (what’s one of those? It sounds a bit vulgar when you think about it) but I didn’t want to look like someone who was there to sort out the bilges.
Anyway, I clearly passed muster (is that right?) and had a most enjoyable time at sea. I am the kind of person who needs to know where the sides are in a swimming pool and where the sand eventually falls into an abyss before I feel comfortable with swimming. For such a water-wimp I have a passionate affection for the sea. I love the enormous swell, the changing colour and (most of all) the metallic saltiness of the smell of the sea.
We sailed about 4 miles out, caught no fish but caught a good down wind that sent us scurrying across the Atlantic (well a small part of it). I did my bit with raising and lowering sails and carrying about that mysterious length of blue rope – I think the others wanted to keep me busy. I have a photograph of me at the wheel setting off in a westerly direction (although you can’t tell from the photograph but we were on auto-pilot or whatever it’s called on a boat). I will endeavor to post it so that you can see what a natural sailor I am.
Since then a few days of intensive and (apparently) productive work which will be of little interests to bloggers. Tonight we are going as a group to the Chinese restaurant in town – run by Daisy from the Phillipines – I wonder what plan or chance took Daisy from her home via Cheshire to run such an establishment in St Helena. If I find out and it’s a story worth repeating I will recount it in my next blog.
Tot: 0.281s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 10; qc: 55; dbt: 0.2541s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb