Monday, 8 September 2014

How I became red faced....part the second

It's all about the Parade of Sail that marks the start of the Tall Ships Race.  This year, from Falmouth to Greenwich. 

The fleet of Tall Ships parades out of harbour to open sea.  It really is the most amazing spectacle, especially considering that lots of these ships are built relatively recently and equipped for disabled and able bodied crew to work together.  So many ships were offering opportunities for life changing experiences to youngsters under 25.  We'd have jumped at it. *cough* 25 years ago.

All of these photos were taken by my talented cousin and I'm grateful for every one of them, they saved me from the embarrassment of having to use my phone because I'd forgotten my old point and shoot.  Stupid huh.


So in time for an on board coffee, we joined the gentle melee in the harbour.  There was a slightly more dignified entry into the launch and a very gentle motor to the yacht mooring.  Do you know that very often there's a lower part at the back of a yacht that is almost level with the water (and therefore the launch in which you approach). It's called the 'sugar scoop' which is such a nice name.  And I was looking forward to being part of the maritime world by concealing my excitement and casually stepping aboard via the scoop. Gripped with invisible strength of course, by Mr Dunnit, who would look as though he were casually taking my elbow in a Mr Darcy inspired politeness.
 It didn't happen.  Robin, our Captain, felt it was all too complicated and unnecessary.  Far easier to bring the launch 'alongside' and just climb on.  Oh OK.  Did I look up at the 4foot of yacht side above me and the little wire fence running around the yacht edge which allowed no more than a foot hold on the outside edge and think 'oh no...it's OK people, I'll stay in the launch'?  No sir I did not.  I looked up, took a deep breath and erm, let Mr Dunnit go first.  And then I did it.  because I had to.  And do you know, the help from Mr Dunnit was actually more of a hindrance.  We somehow ended up holding onto each other without either of us being able to move - me forward and over the fence and him backwards to make room on account of the cabin.....so we hugged while we worked it out.  It was good! 
The flotilla was huge, the papers say about 1000 small vessels.  There was no trouble, and of course, because we were on the water, it seemed quiet.  The atmosphere was just plain relaxed and smiley. Or were all the friendly waves becasue of my amazing sea-going outfit, I now wonder?  The landlubbers that knew the best lookout points were in such numbers that the fields and points above St Mawes, Pendennis Point and places whose names I cannot remember were like multicoloured mosaics.
Thanks to our Captain, we pursued the fleet under our own sail - it was really thrilling. The tall ships approached open sea and halted for the start of the official race, and within about forty minutes, the number of littler craft bobbing about became so much less that it was almost as if we had imagined it.  We quietly made our way a short distance up the Helford River, weighed anchor and sat in the cabin with mugs of tea and ate chocolate. Technically we were waiting for the tide to change so that we could get the yacht back to its mooring.  But really we were allowing the adrenaline and vision overload to settle. We had much to say about how hard it would be to name your own yacht.  This conversation based on some shockingly named vessels that sailed past us.  It seems popular to make a single name out of a couple's two names.  We couldn't settle on that...which half of who's name should be first.  And anyway, it sounded awful.  I wouldn't mind an acronym (surprise), just to make people guess as they sail by. But I don't want anything cheesy - YWorri and Better than Work don't appeal.  And then of course, there's the reality check....the name of a yacht is not really likely to be one of our future dilemmas. 

Remember London 2012 - the best Olympics ever?  
The Post Office painted letter boxes gold as a nod to our gold medallists.  
This one, set in the wall of the Pandora pub, celebrates Sir Ben Ainslie's record achievement.  
It caused some controversary though...he was born locally, but trains and lives in Lymington, Hampshire.
So I believe he has two gold letterboxes that honour his achievements.  And why not, say I.

And so gentle reader, despite the embarrassment of land lubber type embarkation, the embarrassment caused to my cousins when I felt the need to wear navy and white stripes to erm, 'fit in', the embarrassment that the boys gamely bore as Jane and I giggled like children over not being able to say proper words properly....Truro and Brewery to name but two..OK and Aurora - no longer a potential name for a yacht; the greatest embarrassment really is the incredibly wind and sun burned faces that we had to endure. For the first time in our lives we were truly burned through carelessness.  Despite years of getting used to being embarrassed, my face has never been so red.  Totally worth it. 







13 comments:

Bleubeard and Elizabeth said...

I very much enjoyed your banter, but wondered what you meant by people waving. Until I read that you wore blue and white stripes to fit in. Then I laughed and laughed. I can only imagine you and Mr. D holding onto each other and hugging, while getting your bearings. That would have been a sight to see.

I can tell you had fun. Good for you. You deserved a much needed holiday, even if it was for only a few days. What exciting days they were, though!!!!

voodoo vixen said...

LOL Julia, I am laughing with you not at you honest! Sounds like you had a wonderful time and I am sure you blended into the background nicely in seafaring clothes!! ;) Amazing how quickly you can burn when on the open sea.... hope you are recovered!

voodoo vixen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Helen said...

sat here at 6.15 am giggling like a loon! Of course you'd wear stripes to fit in.. wish there were photos of you and Bart trying to get off the launch. JuBa sounds as good a name as any for your vessel when the time comes I reckon... Thanks for another great post.

misteejay said...

Fabulous photos and it sounds like you had a wonderful time enjoying this exciting event.
Toni xx

Sue said...

Thanks for sharing the lovely photos of the stunning tall ships.

Kyla said...

Oh what a lovely day such a great opportunity..
Kyla

Shaz Brooks said...

Hi Julia, I'm also laughing with you, not at you! I can just see you and Mr Dunnit - you paint such a picture with words. I can also imagine me and Doug being in exactly the same position, lol. Me terrified I'm going to fall off, him probably terrified I'm going to drag him with me, rofl.Glad you had such a fab time, hugs, Shaz xxx

RosC said...

Stunning photos Julia. What a great time in spite of the ignominious ship-to-shore transfers. Your usual way with words has me rolling in the aisles!
BTW I'm not dead or paralysed. Just taking a break from blogging which has mutated into laziness. The craft room is just as busy (messy) and occasionally has a young artisan to visit. Love your posts nevertheless...
Spring is here, happily.
Warmest wishes,
Ros.

Neet said...

Absolutely Fabulous - loved every minute of the read and fell about laughing at your description of you two hugging. Brilliant! Thanks.
Hugs, Neet xx

Mrs.D said...

Sounds as if you all had a wonderful time,
And Yes there is a gold post box for Sir Ben Ainstie in Lymington, I have a piccies of it somewhere.
Chris

trisha too said...

LOVE this story, and all the beautiful photographs to go with it! You are a fine teller of tales, Miss Julia, thank you for sharing your red-faced experiences with us!

:)

Carole said...

What a wonderful adventure. I'm so proud of you landlubber;) you've got spunk! Great story thanks for sharing.