All at Sea
Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 12:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamaranthAnother weekend in Plymouth -- a sailing trip with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pugwash and his reptilian crew. Weather, as is usual on my visits, was not outstanding, so we didn't go far -- just tacked across Plymouth Sound to the anchorage at Cawsand Bay. Cawsand (and its neighbour, Kingsand) are charming little Cornish fishing villages. On Saturday night they had Genuine Nightlife. Up on Penlee Head there was a barbeque and jazz evening; down in the village there was a live band playing rock covers -- 'Brown-Eyed Girl, 'Jumpin' Jack Flash', 'Come up and See Me' etc. We could hear them both pretty well from the boat, so going ashore seemed like way too much effort. There's something about a gently-moving boat that makes me either violently ill or very sleepy. I opted for the latter and dozed, waking briefly to down pink drink, and to exhibit rare but spectacular symptoms of a mild allergy to alcohol (glowing red blotches on exposed surfaces). Also regressed to childhood over sticky chocolate pudding. Slept the sleep of the person who'd woken before 5am due to inability to program the alarm correctly.
Sunday dawned pink and clear: a clattering halyard woke me up so I had a look at the sky. Retreated to bunk again until a more reasonable hour. A slothful morning. Dinghy to Cawsand for a wander; it's terribly picturesque and not very spoilt at all, considering its proximity to Plymouth. Civilisation? There's a local music group and circle dancing twice monthly. There is a cashpoint, but it's hidden away in the back of the village shop. I discovered Cornish Cream (the St Austell Brewery's answer to Guinness) and intend to research it further on my next trip.
Back across the Sound and back to dry land (Devon variety); I bade a fond farewell to my hosts and meandered back to the Family Stuff.
All sorts of bad stuff has been happening recently. My sister's godson died (brain tumour; he was 31); niece's husband is back from Basra, where he was guarding prisoners. He's a chef. He sounds rather traumatised by the whole experience. Niece is annoyed because he didn't seem overjoyed to see her and would rather play computer games. They'd been married for four days when he went off to war. (See LJ for mid-February). I hope they'll sort it out.
Today -- Monday 7th -- is my father's 77th birthday. He's forgotten how birthday cards work; he peered at the copyright information on the back, but showed no interest in what was written inside. Despite almost total lack of speech volume, he seemed happy to be taken out for lunch by my sister and myself.
We went up to Bovisand, the nearest bathing beach to Plymouth; there's a cliff to negotiate between carpark and sand, so we stayed at the top and ate lunch. There's a wonderful view across the Sound towards Cawsand Bay, with moderate traffic (a Navy vessel, the Santander ferry, miscellaneous yachts and pleasure boats). My father and I looked at the sea. My sister talked. (She doesn't stop, or require response; and she was being more than usually full of good advice this time round). He's better at tuning her out than I am, so he looked very happy -- which was, after all, the point.
Feeling rather tense again now. Perhaps the solution is to sail after visiting family ...
NOTE: Written partly on Sea Spear whilepugwash and the Snake listen to 'The Archers'; partly on the train back to Paddington. If PocketLJ works, this will post automatically (complete with typos) and I'll load up the photos a little later by editing this entry. Bet you can hardly wait...
EDIT: Those pictures, as promised ...
And a new user icon forpugwash ... upload it using the form on this page
pugwash and his reptilian crew. Weather, as is usual on my visits, was not outstanding, so we didn't go far -- just tacked across Plymouth Sound to the anchorage at Cawsand Bay. Cawsand (and its neighbour, Kingsand) are charming little Cornish fishing villages. On Saturday night they had Genuine Nightlife. Up on Penlee Head there was a barbeque and jazz evening; down in the village there was a live band playing rock covers -- 'Brown-Eyed Girl, 'Jumpin' Jack Flash', 'Come up and See Me' etc. We could hear them both pretty well from the boat, so going ashore seemed like way too much effort. There's something about a gently-moving boat that makes me either violently ill or very sleepy. I opted for the latter and dozed, waking briefly to down pink drink, and to exhibit rare but spectacular symptoms of a mild allergy to alcohol (glowing red blotches on exposed surfaces). Also regressed to childhood over sticky chocolate pudding. Slept the sleep of the person who'd woken before 5am due to inability to program the alarm correctly.Sunday dawned pink and clear: a clattering halyard woke me up so I had a look at the sky. Retreated to bunk again until a more reasonable hour. A slothful morning. Dinghy to Cawsand for a wander; it's terribly picturesque and not very spoilt at all, considering its proximity to Plymouth. Civilisation? There's a local music group and circle dancing twice monthly. There is a cashpoint, but it's hidden away in the back of the village shop. I discovered Cornish Cream (the St Austell Brewery's answer to Guinness) and intend to research it further on my next trip.
Back across the Sound and back to dry land (Devon variety); I bade a fond farewell to my hosts and meandered back to the Family Stuff.
All sorts of bad stuff has been happening recently. My sister's godson died (brain tumour; he was 31); niece's husband is back from Basra, where he was guarding prisoners. He's a chef. He sounds rather traumatised by the whole experience. Niece is annoyed because he didn't seem overjoyed to see her and would rather play computer games. They'd been married for four days when he went off to war. (See LJ for mid-February). I hope they'll sort it out.
Today -- Monday 7th -- is my father's 77th birthday. He's forgotten how birthday cards work; he peered at the copyright information on the back, but showed no interest in what was written inside. Despite almost total lack of speech volume, he seemed happy to be taken out for lunch by my sister and myself.
We went up to Bovisand, the nearest bathing beach to Plymouth; there's a cliff to negotiate between carpark and sand, so we stayed at the top and ate lunch. There's a wonderful view across the Sound towards Cawsand Bay, with moderate traffic (a Navy vessel, the Santander ferry, miscellaneous yachts and pleasure boats). My father and I looked at the sea. My sister talked. (She doesn't stop, or require response; and she was being more than usually full of good advice this time round). He's better at tuning her out than I am, so he looked very happy -- which was, after all, the point.
Feeling rather tense again now. Perhaps the solution is to sail after visiting family ...
NOTE: Written partly on Sea Spear while
pugwash and the Snake listen to 'The Archers'; partly on the train back to Paddington. If PocketLJ works, this will post automatically (complete with typos) and I'll load up the photos a little later by editing this entry. Bet you can hardly wait...EDIT: Those pictures, as promised ...
And a new user icon for
pugwash ... upload it using the form on this page
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 10:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 01:52 pm (UTC)and change your mind.. it would be lovely to have your company. (I seem to remember that you float)no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 05:21 pm (UTC)And yes, WSS, below. Pix kewl.
no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 02:53 pm (UTC)Again, nice pics. You're a dab hand with that camera missus!
no subject
Date: Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 03:11 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: Wednesday, July 9th, 2003 05:14 am (UTC)Plenty to see round my neck of the woods (lovely park, good pubs etc), am very willing to act as tour guide/raconteur/provider of interesting alcoholic beverages, but may have to decline your kind modelling offer. I wasn't aware that I HAD a good side except in a conflict situation.
You were missed at Drpete's do, it was good fun (if noisy) and we got him suitably trashed. I feel additional liberal applications of alcohol are required to make up for your non-attendance, good excuse notwithstanding.
no subject
Date: Wednesday, July 9th, 2003 01:58 am (UTC)You were missed Dear, but no problem, and thanks for the card!
Shall we have an extra-curricular outing to Greenwich in the near future, and belatedly "celebrate" instead?
no subject
Date: Friday, July 11th, 2003 06:11 am (UTC)