When the sea state is slight (technical seafaring term - you impressed?) we often pootle over to the Millerstone Hotel in Millport on the island of Cumbrae for our tea. Sure beats slaving over a hot whatsit even if I do have to take my turn at rowing in. I was looking for an online reference for this hotel but the only one I could find was on the site of Pink Tank, the gay and lesbian scuba diving club. And it looks like such a quiet little place! Guess they must be the only gays in the village...
You will notice (or you would if blogger would let me upload the blinking picture!) that when you eventually reach the pier you have a choice of two kind of steps, vertical and diagonal. Quite often vertical is the only option if the pier is busy. These I have climbed in all weather condition, snow, ice, frost. On one memorable occasion it was me that became frozen, mid ladder, una
ble to move up or down. Dearly beloved eventually talked me round and I seem to have overcome my fear of vertical steps. Just as well really.Dearly beloved himself is no stranger to disaster in the vicinity of these vertical steps. One never to be forgotten day the huge bunch of keys that unlock his life and the lives of several of our nearest and dearest caught on the steps, detatched themselves from his belt clip and disappeared into the depths. When he had recovered from his horror of disbelief we made a mercy dash back to the mainland, broke into our garage (no keys, remember?) and fished out the industrial sized magnet on a rope that was our only hope. We zoomed back to the pier and dropped the magnet where we reckoned the keys might be, like one of these frustrating fairground machines that lead you to believe a cuddly toy will soon be yours, only to drop it back with it's buddies at the last heart stopping moment.
The fairground gods were smiling on us that day and up came the keys at the first attempt. They no longer climb ladders with us. Dearly beloved is a man who learns by his mistakes. Wish I could say the same...I'm still using Blogger. Maybe it will embed itself in the vocabulary as a new swear word. Oh Blogger this for a game of soldiers!
1 comment:
Reminds me of my father's new fishing rod and spinner tipping over the side of the boat in the deepest part of the lake! He bought polaroid glasses which were just becoming popular here then to try and see into the depths and a wire hook and weight on a rope which he dragged for hours but never recovered his rod. BTW, I'm sure he would have found your new swear word useful. I think I mught too.
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