Fog. Thick, cloying, damp fog, silent and sinister, surrounded us. Despite being only few hundred yards from Dartmouth castle, we immediately felt as lost and isolated as if we were in the middle of the Atlantic. And it was not a nice feeling. We had taken APPLETON RUM away from her moorings for a shakedownContinue reading “Blog 112. Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah”
Tag Archives: DARTMOUTH
Blog 106. Told You So
Don’t panic! Don’t panic! A new variant of the Corona virus has emerged and it is the Omicron variant, pronounced, according to some classicists, Oh – MY – cron, which appropriately rhymes with OH – MY – GOD. The very name strikes terror to the heart. Worse, it is a mutant strain (my wife reportsContinue reading “Blog 106. Told You So”
Blog 104. Torchy the Battery Boy
“You have done what?”Jane’s concern for my welfare was touching, but also a bit scary.“Um….I may, just possibly, have swallowed those old hearing aid batteries you gave me to recycle. I may have thought they were Vitamin D pills, you see”.She shook her head, more in sorrow than in anger.“I’m going to have to watchContinue reading “Blog 104. Torchy the Battery Boy”
Blog 98. ‘Ping’
Nobody works, nobody goes to school. That was Jane’s sage observation when I complained about how busy the River Dart and our marina was, midweek, mid July, before English state schools had broken up for the summer holidays. She was, as ever, quite right. The NHS automatic ‘Covid Track and Trace’ system uses a smartphoneContinue reading “Blog 98. ‘Ping’”
Blog 96. “Forty Thirty. Silence, Please”
Help. I am a tennis widow. Or should that be a tennis widower? Whatever, I am left to my own devices after 1330 every day except Sunday, destined to make my own entertainment, perhaps nibble on a little dry bread and mouldy cheese for supper, and to go to bed alone: a lonely soul. ItContinue reading “Blog 96. “Forty Thirty. Silence, Please””
Blog 89. Damned clever, these Chinese.
“And we jolly sailor boys were leaping up aloft, with the landlubbers lying down below”. Ahoy, landlubbers and shipmates: I’m back from the boat, wind-burned, weather beaten, bruised, aching in most joints, and smelling faintly of diesel oil. This last characteristic is a little odd, bearing in mind that conditions onboard are not so primitiveContinue reading “Blog 89. Damned clever, these Chinese.”
Blog 85. “Hi Tweety; So Long Jerry”.
Spring is trying to arrive in Melbury though, because of a storm last week, I had to lash down our newly painted garden furniture (Blog 83) and secure the entire outfit to the house using a large ring bolt and a double sheet bend. The narcissi are up and blooming, primroses and celandine decorate theContinue reading “Blog 85. “Hi Tweety; So Long Jerry”.”
"A Very Vintage Chap..." 