Christopher Cross had a great song called "Sailing" ( so did Rod Stewart...bigger hit - inferior song.)
Today I sailed...me! In a Waveney ( which is a type of competitive little yacht). Now before you start yawning - I mean I SAILED. I didn't go as a passenger - I skippered and took the helm.
Now I finally GET IT and have new insight into my Beloved man. There surely can't be anymore spectacular feeling in the entire world than making a pact with the wind and God and feeling the sails fill and the boat lift and cut the water, racing away.
Buckets gave me a few quick lessons and he and Tony crewed for me. It was a Tony I have never seen, overflowing with happiness and energy and totally in tune with the boat. He loves it so much and now I understand the need for him to be near water - and why he feels so hemmed in by the trees.
I did a halfway decent tack out of instinct and both my lovely crew looked at me in amazement. We all talked about it when we finally got back to the clubhouse - but I could have stayed out there forever!
The little town of Oulton is charming enough in itself. But it's the gateway to the Broads - which actually start in Suffolk. And Oulton Broad is spectacular - as beautiful as any place on earth you can imagine.
The weather Gods smiled on us - clear blue skies - 28 degrees - the water glistening like a diamond mine stripped naked. Bliss.
We had already been to see Lowestoft, just a few miles away, where I spent one summer of my childhood when my dad did a summer season there at the theatre on the pier. There's a plaza there now with dancing water spouts which little children run in and out of, shrieking with delight.
Tuna Mayonnaise sandwiches, a ginger beer, and a walk across the park in Oulton and suddenly there it is...WOBYC ( Sounds like someone from Lord of The Rings rather than a modest yacht club)
It's the Waveney world championships....not that huge a deal since Waveneys are a boat peculiar to this area. Tony is greeted by all as the Prodigal son - to some he is still known as Coca Cola trousers, after some outrageous Coca Cola beeach pants he wore 40 years ago...he still has them and still wears them occassionally. He is clearly loved and he loves everyone there....touching, hugging, back slapping, laughing - and always the Broad is in the background ( no...not me...the water) and the sails zip past us.
It is only after the racing is over that the lovely Jenny ( she of the soft Suffolk burr) says her dad has left the boat rigged in case we want to go for a sail. It's 5.30pm but it doesn't get dark till 9.30 - so why not. I try to beg off but Buckets is having none of that - and so I get to skipper a Waveney and find myself talking to her, encouraging the sails to fill, urging her to find the wind. The exhilaration is overwhelming and I swear I am no more than eighteen years old. Time stops when the wind and the water do their thing - was ever a do more perfect?
Of course, Perfection can only be measured by comparison with imperfection. As we dock and I try to alight - both my bung knee and hip give way and I fall flat on my arse in the boat. A second attempt but my hip is locked and this time I pull Tony over with me!
Thankfully, my ego now put firmly back in its place, I succeed at the third attempt - but where the hell was the 18 year old who had skimmed the water with full sails?
Still, NOTHING could spoil the day. An extra hour in the clubhouse with my crew talking about my one perfect tack..... and then it's fish and cheaps in batter made with the local beer and home to bed. Being a helmsman is a tiring business.
What memories for when I am truly old and dementia sets in...I'm sure by then I will remember winning the America's cup...or at least the Oulton Broad Waveney trophy!
And I'm think maybe....only maybe mind.... when we move to Franmkston we should get a little boat.....
Swallows and Amazons.... aah, a book of my childhood...and now I am living it.
And I am finally up to date with this blog!
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