Home life
Pushing the boat out
Alice Thomas Ellis
Idid it again. I went on about the weather and it changed. The bread bin got waterlogged, and many people found themselves unable to play bowls. I was, myself, quite pleased about that as the television showed a film instead, but it must have been sickening for the would-be contestants, and, I suppose, for the two or three devotees who actually like watching this game being played. A lady has written to me suggesting that I move the bread bin out of the drips, so I have. I have put it on the New World gas cooker, which stands by in case the weather should ever get too hot to keep the Aga running.
Today began in a very startling fashion with torrential rain, an indignant blackbird warning off would-be intruders on his territory by going chick, chick, chick for what seemed like hours in the irritating way that blackbirds have; and then the burglar alarm of one of the neighbours went off. It is interesting that when this happens it absolutely never occurs to one that it could mean that burglars are actual- ly attempting an ingress. Everybody invari- ably assumes that the cat has tripped the wire, or the householder has forgotten to throw some switch, and they get annoyed as the racket goes on and on. If I were a burglar I shouldn't be in the least alarmed, knowing that the people around would be muttering and cursing, with their fingers in their ears, rather than flying to the tele- phone to dial 999, or approaching with the poker and a challenging question.
All this was happening at about 5 , a.m. and shortly afterwards an unpleasant wind got up. When I eventually got up myself, Someone handed me the post which was remarkable only in that it consisted of a brochure from a company which hires out — or rather charters — yachts to the public at some expense. We have no idea how it occurred to these people to contact us or even how they knew we existed, but they clearly have an unrealistic idea of our means. These vessels are not DIY but come complete with crew, captains most usually being described as skilled, excel- lent, and British. Frequently the remaining crew are expert, multilingual and Euro- pean. One of the captains is gracious too (I can't quite picture a gracious captain. How does he manifest this quality at sea in a Force 11?) Some of the captains are American, skilled and personable, one is Australian and expert, and one, rather daringly, is French. He and the cook are both categorised as enchanting — another quality I should not put at the head of a list of those desired in a sea captain (or even a sea cook). How he measures up on keeping the thing afloat is what I would want to know.
It's all entirely academic anyway since the tariff puts all these skilled British and European expert sailors well beyond our reach. I'm rather sorry because it would be nice to sail away from the rain sitting on a wide deck which 'sports cushions and mattresses for sun-bathing and a teak table on the foredeck for al fresco meals'. Some of them have air-conditioning, ice-makers, water-makers, and comprehensive naviga- tional and powerful communications equipment, and I rather like the order of importance in which they are listed. It is perversely reassuring that the compilers of the brochure should place comfort before safety, as though the latter could be taken for granted. I was recently invited to go sailing in a much smaller vessel off the south coast but declined since, no matter how excellent etc. are our British captains, our British waters leave something to be desired compared with the Mediterranean. If I'm going to get wet I prefer to do it on dry land.
When our ship comes in we will push the boat out and avail ourselves of the 'endear- ing motor sailer' with its rich carpeting and polished brass fittings and green plants. Or the one with `the bleached teak decks' with their 'exceptional lounging space and un- usually large cushioned circular cockpit'. Or perhaps we'll settle for the experienced British captain and his gourmet chef and skilled deck crew. Or maybe we'll go on the cruise offered in yet another brochure (why are we showered with these tantalis- ing documents?): British officers again and a barman, nationality unspecified, who will mix us an ice-cold piiia colada. No — hang on — we won't. There's a comedian on this boat who 'has you rolling in the aisles'. I don't like the sound of that. He's bound to be British and probably northern. I shall stay at home and watch the bread sailing in the bread bin.
Previous page
