Tired and Emotional

'The Lonesomes' match report will follow.

Hulk doesn't do writing; just destroying, so Captain Pyne and vice skipper Quixote organising the writing of it so... don't hold your breath.

I got a little tired and emotional after last night's summer squash.
Beaten by a girl.
Again.
Failed to eat, as team captain failed to provide sustenance.
Again.
Drowned sorrows on empty stomach.
Again.
Wobbled home in 3rd gear.
Again.
When Atko is your beer monitor you know you're in trouble.
I therefore resolve:
Never to play girls again. (occasional exception made for Mears)
To limit myself to only one post match beer...
Oh, go on, two then...

Euro Meltdown Explained for Idiots

Baldrick: "What I want to know Sir is, before there was a Euro there were lots of different types of money that different people used. And now there's only one type of money that the foreign people use. And what I want to know is, how did we get from one state of affairs to the other state of affairs"
Blackadder: "Baldrick. Do you mean, how did the Euro start?"
Baldrick: "Yes Sir"
Blackadder: "Well, you see Baldrick, back in the 1980s there were many different countries all running their own finances and using different types of money. On one side you had the major economies of France , Belgium , Holland and Germany , and on the other, the weaker nations of Spain , Greece , Ireland , Italy and Portugal . They got together and decided that it would be much easier for everyone if they could all use the same money, have one Central Bank, and belong to one large club where everyone would be happy. This meant that there could never be a situation whereby financial meltdown would lead to social unrest, wars and crises".
Baldrick: "But this is sort of a crisis, isn't it Sir?".
Blackadder: "That's right Baldrick. You see, there was only one slight flaw with the plan".
Baldrick: "What was that then, Sir?"
Blackadder: "It was bollocks".

Sex and Drugs and Squash 'n' Roll: Aubrey Waddy

Aubrey Waddy sounds like he should be a porn star but knackers that impression by looking a bit like Phil Whitaker.
A boiled egg with glasses then.
He plays squash (very well) for  Chesham Bois and England Over 60s.
Aubrey has also written a novel.
The title's almost as good as the cover...
You can buy it here:
Amazon.co.uk
...although I'd imagine that Aubrey gets more of the pie if you contact him directly at:
www.aubreywaddy.co.uk

Here is the official blurb:

Sex and Drugs and Squash’n’Roll

A story about squash... and much more:

Teenager Jolyon Jacks comes of age in the man’s world of professional squash, on the worldwide ‘PSA’ tour. A chance game against a girl at school leads fifteen year old Jacks to Manchester, and the iron-hard, iron-willed coach, ‘Sailor’ McCann. Sailor wants Jolyon to abandon his rich private school education for full time squash. Jolyon opts for squash, goodbye school, in the process defying his domineering mother, who is implacably set on forcing her son to the top of the tennis tree. In a vindictive move his mother cuts him out of a vast trust fund. His grandfather says wait, we’ll change our mind, but only if you make it to world squash number one... by the age of twenty one!

Jolyon faces enormous hurdles in his quest, on court and off, many of his own making. There is his wild attitude to the typical temptations faced by the testosteroned teen. What does every professional athlete need before a crucial match? A good night’s sleep. And what best interferes with a good night’s sleep? We all know the answer to that, Jolyon’s favourite pastime. What do you NOT find promoted in the World Anti-doping Agency manual? The dense, smoky atmosphere of the illegal rave. What is Jolyon’s next favourite pastime? Mixing music through megawatt sound systems... at illegal raves.

Sailor uncovers a freakish physical ability in his protégé. On court Jolyon is an all-conquering whirlwind. But physical ability is not enough. How does he deal with the sublime talent of the American, Julio ‘Razza’ Mattaz, who is taking squash to another level? How does he resist the machinations of another domineering parent, Frenchman Marcel Darnaud, father of Jolyon’s giant rival Armand? Finally, how does Jolyon cope with his longings for his training partner Zoë? World champion Zoë, whose interest in boys is far from certain.

The story storms through to the verge of Jolyon’s twenty first birthday, at the iconic Tournament of Champions in Grand Central Terminal, New York. Here his last chance is played out, off the court against dark forces, on the court against an overwhelming opponent.

The early reviews are good:

"Excellent, fast-moving yarn set in the world of top squash and written by a very good friend of mine who was (and is) an excellent squash player. A little disappointed that Jolyon didn't come back from the dead to win the title but that may just have stretched the bounds of possibility a tad! Well-drawn characters and splendid dialogue make this a must for all squash enthusiasts."

"Another excellent book from Aubrey Waddy, very much in the style as his debut. As ever, he educates the reader in his subject choices, so that the layman cannot help but be better informed by the end of the book. This one is very "current", referencing a lot of the latest technology and media terminology. However, you can tell he is not just throwing words in for fashionable parlance - he ALWAYS does his homework, and comes across as knowing what he is talking about. Once again it has its racy passages. I'm not sure whether describing a "smegma-smeared c***" adds much to the proceedings, but that's probably just me. Heartily recommended to anyone who likes a bit of wit in their storytelling."

The Treeman

I'm sure that many of you think that the days of a singer-songwriter are filled with balmy, blissful belly button gazing, done whilst sitting half way up (or half way down) a mountain, drinking rose and grasping at the muse; trying to make something rhyme with 'purple'. 

It's not all lavender folks; witness this footage of The Treeman; perhaps the angriest folksinger on the block. 

I can't see him fitting seamlessly into 'The Bob Heard Band' or trading blues licks with Koko. Only Atko could translate Treeman's rage.
I pity his guitar collection; I think he needs to buy a cat...

Be warned, his prose is... purple.

Summer Squash: The Lonesomes v Webster

The Lonesomes turned up and tuned in for their second summer squash match of the season.
Changes had been made. Lonesome Wrinkly (Atko) was dropped for... well, not being able to drop. In his place we had man mountain Andy Wright and the dynamic Chris Parker.
The courts were hot; the rallies would be abundant. The sweltering heat would sort the men from the boys...

First on was Chris; Lonesome Quixote was up against Beaconsfield's very own ranting windmill, Richard Monson. Rich's reach is awesome, he's a tricky oppo; there's no part of the court that he can't block off and our sprightly boy had his work cut out dancing around the muttering Monson. Too much quality pressure from The Don forced too many errors from Richard who succumbed with a guttural grunt...
3-0 
Rating: Quixote becalms The Windmill's sails

Next up was the main event. Squash is not a blood sport but I think that most in the packed gallery were hoping for a repeat of last week's histrionics. The nameless estate agent was notable by his absence last night but his presence permeated the rafters every time the score was called. Lonesome Fox (yup, me) was an innocent bystander in last week's meltdown, but talk was that there was always a ruck when this calamitous catalyst (me) is about. Last night he (me) took on nemesis, Chairman Mears. Although his record agin me (me) is not good, Napoleon always reckons that he wins the important ones. Important? Impotent more like it last night. The Dude was firing duds, even his signature stop drops were gutter bound. Too many errors from a strangely lack-lustre Kevin saw moi (me) bringing home the lonesome bacon with a fairly routine victory. Rumour has it that Mears was knackered from changing too many (14) club light bulbs, but that ain't right; we all know how the little dictator changes a light bulb: he just holds it aloft and the world spins around him...
3-0
Rating: Napoleon Blown Apart

Next up was Lonesome Hulk. Andy Wright was making his summer team debut and whilst not exactly filling notable boots (Atko's) the pressure was on for him to make his mark. Brutal strength and focussed application saw off a spirited (but brief) resistance from Stephen Webster.
3-1 
Rating: Lean, Mean, Green and erm... Better than Atko...

Our skipper and number one; Lonesome Pyne was up next. The other team's flagship was more dreadnaught than battleship; moribund Neil Davies, powerful, functional but essentially a talent free zone. This week 'The Fridge' (aka 'Smeg') confused us all by ditching the whites; sporting a red top that gave him the resemblance to a telephone box. Adam was a mobile phone in comparison to the lumbering phone booth. Every shot in Neil's book (more a pamphlet) was indifferently matched by our balletic brave heart; ably assisted by some spectacularly one eyed marking from Lonesome Fox (me); Lonesome Pyne even wantonly scraped up a spectacular double bounce; the coup de grace to an already demoralised Davies. Enough messing; Adam eventually pulled the plug and defrosted 'The Fridge' (aka 'Smeg') with the sweltering heat of his abundant talents...
3-0
Rating: Adam the Iceman Cometh; Smeg Shows Lack of Spunk

And so to the post match pint; another happy hour at the bar where the talk was of WKP's seafaring sex life (essentially 'self love') and the revelation that our other salty sea dog, boat buying pugwash, Chris Hosey is allergic to... fish.
Although he has our sympathies it's really hard to kipper straight face...

Oh, and Chris Gildersleve made an appearance dressed as a 70's pimp.
The highlight of his outrageous (viscose dominated) outfit was a magnificent white belt that Engelbert Humpersheep will be borrowing this weekend for the Eurovisions.
Come on Norway.

Di's 'Wednesday Titter': Granny

A little old lady wanted to join a biker club. 

She knocked on the door of a local biker club and a big, hairy, bearded biker with tattoos all over his arms answers the door. 

She proclaims "I want to join your biker club."
The guy was amused and told her that she needed to meet certain biker requirements before she was allowed to join. So the biker asks her "You have a bike?"
The little old lady says "Yea, that's my Harley over there" and points to a Harley parked in the driveway.
The biker asks her "Do you smoke?"
The little old lady says "Yea, I smoke. I smoke 4 packs of cigarettes a day and a couple of cigars while I'm shooting pool."
The biker is impressed and asks "Well, have you ever been picked up by the Fuzz?"
The little old lady says "No, never been picked up by the fuzz, but I've been swung around by my nipples a few times."

Di's 'Wednesday Titter': Bob

This is a new feature where the lovely Di gets to tell you her 'joke of the week'.
It also gives me a chance to publish some embarrassing pictures of her.

Bob died in a fire and his body was burned pretty badly.

 The morgue needed someone to identify the body, so they sent for his two best friends, Mick and Paddy. The three men had always done everything together.

Mick arrived first, and when the mortician pulled back the sheet Mick said, "Yup, his face is burned up pretty bad. You better roll him over." The mortician rolled him over and Mick said, "Nope, ain't Bob." The mortician thought this was rather strange.

 So he brought Paddy in to confirm the identity of the body.

 Paddy looked at the body and said, "Yup, he's pretty well burnt up. Roll him over." The mortician rolled him over and Paddy said, "No, it ain't Bob." The mortician asked, 'How can you tell?'

"Paddy said, "Well, Bob had two arseholes..'

'

"What? He had two arseholes?'' asked the mortician.



"Yup, we never seen 'em, but everybody used to say...

 ... there's Bob with them two arseholes."

Summer Squash: The Lonesomes v The Springers

Summer Squash got off to a cracking start last night as detailed in 'Lonesome' Pyne's match report below. 
And guess what? 
I wasn't 'the baddie' this time...


Last night saw the Summer league campaign kick off with a hugely enjoyable evening of competitive squash and great socialising.1st on was Yours Truly, and as Captain I was determined to lead my team by example. Facing The Springer Spaniel himself (Chris Gildersleeve) I was in no mood to muck around, 1st game done in a couple of minutes 9-0, I was then told by the Chairman himself to go for the jugular and see the Springer off 27-0 for what was obviously a deep wound that he himself once had inflicted on him by the Springer. 2nd game 8-0 up and the real Springer showed himself with his well know mishit winner for his first point (GRRRR). I then saw the match out after that for only the lose of 3 more points for the win and the 1st points of the season were on the board. :o)

Next up was the whiley coyote himself (Mike) at number 3 for the evening, old whiley got off to a storming start hitting an dead nick drop shot straight off to go 1-0 up in the first, unfortunately I think that shot got to his head as proceeded to hand the initiative to his opponent, for 3/4's of the game whiley had lots of chances of calling easy lets but just looked up to the gods but "LET PLEASE" never came out of his mouth, to then add to the painful beating he was starting to take already 2-0 and 6-2 down he finally asked for a let, only to be denied by the marker (ME) as he needed to be another 20 years younger to be able to get there. Final Score 0-3.

Then came the Silver Fox (Trevor), I didn't get to see much of the match but when I arrived it was 2 games all, so all to play for. Controversy then kicked in (no surprise for anyone that knows the silver fox) with the Springer marking he called the score as 2-1 to the Fox, his opponent (Gareth) was adamant that this was incorrect and in fact it was 1-1, but the marker was having none of it, like a sulking little school boy Gareth had a little temper tantrum and that was all the silver fox needed to see off his prey with some inspired winners to come through 3-2, like the petulant child that he showed he was Gareth steamed off court without the offer of a proper handshake (oh poor did-dums LOL).

Last but certainly not least was David, rushing straight in from a hectic day at work, he was facing a man that was on a mission in Jez, with his team captain not notifying him that David would not be around till just after 8pm, he was not in a good mood, David took full advantage of this and went into a 8-1 lead in the first, What happened next only David will know as Jez clawed his way and nicked the game 10-8, Jez then was able to harbour his anger into making the very valiant David cover all 4 corners of the court for the next 2 games, as much as David charged around covering everything the slightly more cunning play of Jez saw him through the match. Final Score 0-3

So the first game drawn 2 matches all, but unfortunately The Springers team crept the win due to the 2 games the Sulky School Boy managed to steal away from the Silver Fox.

Then the festivities began in the bar and, well I can't say anything about that, only that their was drinking and lots of somewhat interesting banter happening, which finished off a thoroughly entertaining evening.

Next Match is Next Wednesday 23rd May with the Team Selection below.

1, CK
2, Trevor
3, Chris
4, Andy

If you all good confirm that you are still ok to play in this fixture that would be much appreciated. I'm thinking that maybe we could order in some pizza's to go with the drink in the evening, if you are up for this then please let me know.

Regards

Adam

How's Yer Willy (Part 24): The Final Chapter (for now)

Well we made it across over 3000 miles of deserted ocean. It took us 23 days and we travelled about 3300 miles through the water when you account for all the zig-zagging. This was something that I wanted to do and which I have thoroughly enjoyed. The picture below is for the record: me with the island of Nuka Hiva in the background. Fortunately it was my watch so I had the pleasure of sailing into the anchorage and dropping the hook.

I hope some of you will have noticed that I will have a bit less to drag around the squash court when I get back. We celebrated with a bottle of bubbly, then some wine and then we went ashore to celebrate some more. Despite all the frustrations, I am very grateful to the owners for allowing me to share in their adventure. It has been a unique experience. Nuka Hiva is a very beautiful island.

The anchorage in Nuka Hiva

I have decided, however, not to do the last leg to Tahiti and to fly there instead. If I ever come this way again it will be in my own boat. The call of home is strong and I hope to be having a pint in the squash club sometime from Wednesday onwards next week. Thanks to everyone who shared the adventure by reading my ramblings. Thanks in particular to all of you who commented on various of the entries. Everyone should dream of their adventure and have a go at it. I will have to start work now dreaming up my next one.

Till then, thanks everyone.

Willie

What a P*sser!

It was Chapp's birthday this weekend. 

47 I believe.

He celebrated in style, more than whetting his appetite on Friday whilst wetting Ches's grandson's head. 

Once Bholla's pockets were empty Mike wobbled his way on to the Red Lion where he managed to drop his beloved mobile phone into a (very full) urinal... 

He and I spent the evening at the club bar last night with Dirty Dan (whom Chapps had just spanked 3-2 at racket ball), the three of us wondering why we'd not been invited to Toby's stag do... 

In between the sighs and moans we devised a new game based on Mike's misfortune in the pissoir... 

We now have the equipment and a name for the game:

'What a P*sser!' 

Stampie's having a set installed in the (now uni-sex) ladies changing room.

There's talk of a mixed summer league.

All you need to play is the four piece set (see below), ten pints of Becks and a mobile phone...

We're just working on the finer points of the rules.

I'll keep you posted...

How's Yer Willy (Part 23): At Last; A Proper Fish

Well, I am pleased to report that at last I got things right. While putting out my line today, I noticed a tiny snag in the braid. It was just enough to weaken it, so it all came back in and I went back down the line until I found the weak point and cut it off there. Out it went and sure enough, just after dinner with the light fading, my reel started screaming again, even though it had the new heavier drag setting. I leapt up to see the last of the braid disappear and the monofilament backing race off after the fish. I inched up the drag with no effect. Still line flying out. I shouted for them to stop the boat which they were trying to do. I went through the gate on the reel to access maximum drag and just before that setting he fish stopped running. It s about half a kilometres away by now. I slowly gained line only for the fish to run again. I don’t know how long the fight was but eventually I saw the shape of the fish emerge from the depths. It was an enormous yellowfin tuna.

At this point as I got it to the surface, I had to give the rod to the skipper as I had to climb out onto the transom to try to gaff it and haul it on board. That was tricky but we succeeded and landed it. I estimate it at between 30 and 35 kilos. I found it hard to lift for the photo. Easily my best sea fish and pleasing after a few false starts. I. Still think the one the day before was half as big again. We have a lot of very prime tuna fresh for the next couple of days and frozen for the rest of the trip. Over to you Marigold.

How's Yer Willy (Part 22): Progress on Both Sailing and Fishing Fronts

We continue to limp along in light winds. Even the skipper must be becoming frustrated as surprise, surprise we left the pole up last night and no tempest or sea monster came along to do us damage. He started muttering about taking it in again tonight. I just stay out of it now, however, the ‘admiral’ who was on watch would have none of it and told him to leave things alone. So we still have the pole out at least until the admiral goes to bed. I am sure that in years to come, perhaps even weeks to come I will talk proudly about sailing across the pacific. However, right now with 570 miles to go to landfall and making just over 4 knots the sums tell me we are looking at another five and a half days. Factor on a bit more for zig zagging and a bit because sods law says we will arrive in darkness and have to go in circles for a few more hours and a week today is a likely step ashore. That will be plenty of long crossings for me. The only possibility of it happening again will be if I return in my own boat.

I have not been fishing recently. This is because the next time I hook something big, I plan to get it to the boat. This means I don’t fish when Marigold is out and about and I don’t fish when the sailing rig makes it hard to stop the boat quickly. This means that Marigold mk 3a has been having the field to herself for the last couple of days. Mk 3a modifications meant better hooks as the rubbish ones got straightened or rusted within days. I offered mine which were turned down and some reasonably respectable Mustad 5 o’s were fitted. Well Marigold got hit today with the boat hardly moving and sure enough came back empty handed with another straight hook. The same hook would deal with most fish it is possible to catch around the UK. So later today we moved to Marigold Mk 4, equipped with a strong circle hook and a size 8 o stainless. So far no further enquiries. If the sail plan changes, I will wet a line tomorrow. There are some very big fish out there and currently they are laughing at us.

How's Yer Willy (Part 21): Final Goodbye to Dad

Tuesday 1st May. My dad was cremated today in Belfast. May he rest in peace and my thanks to everyone who organised the funeral and who showed their respect for him by attending. My night watch coincided with the time of the funeral and although I couldn’t be there, I could quietly think about dad sitting under the stars and under a brilliant moon that made the calm ocean seem like daylight.

The photo is of Dad when we went fishing on Lough Neagh in Ulster on his 90th birthday. It was a lovely day out together before the party with the family and all his friends later that day. RIP.

How's Yer Willy (Part 20): Frustration in the Middle of a Long Passage

It is Monday 30th today. We have been at sea for 18 days now. The wind has died and sailing straight downwind with two poled out headsails we are making about 4 knots. This is acceptable but tedious. What is currently driving me up the pole (sic) is that each evening our skipper still insists in taking the poles in. This means we can’t point at the target and head off about 60 degrees in the wrong direction at an even slower speed with just one sail out. By doing this we can extend the passage almost indefinitely. My latest estimates are a further 8 days.  It is  a general issue is that every time we do anything with the boat or sails, the level of angst rises for no apparent reason. I have avoided getting involved at all a couple of times and the same thing happens.

It kind of reminds me of the Army regiment who, every day, have breakfast standing up. No chairs in the dining room at breakfast. This is  because they were ambushed in Zulu land in eighteen hundred and something while they were sitting to have breakfast. They are never going to get caught off guard like that again. I hope that wasn’t your regiment Mr Monson.  Our poor skipper had an unfortunate experience in another ocean with different weather and a different crew and hasn’t put it behind him. It is however his toy box so that is that. It does worry me though because the next piece to Tahiti is actually much more difficult with many reefs and narrow entrance passages to lagoons. I am concerned that the angst level will rise to unbearable heights and that we will just not enter the best places.

How's Yer Willy (Part 19): Fishing, fishing, fishing...

Tonight just after dinner and just before it got dark my fishing rod started screaming and line poured off the reel. I jumped up to grab it and pushed the drag full on. The drag applies a force stopping the line from going out. I have it set to about 60 lbs or to put it another way, if you hung 25 bags of sugar off it the line would not budge. Well budge it did. I have at least 600 meters of line on the reel and whatever was on the end had already got 500 of those. It would take something the size of a small pony to pull that much line out under that amount of drag pressure. Next thing that happened was that the fish swam across the other trailing line which was a smart thing to do, because the lines ran down each other until mine reached the hooks on the other. They then cleanly cut my braid and the fish was lost. Definitely the biggest thing I have ever been connected to by a fishing rod. I would give up my daily beer allowance just to have caught a glimpse of it. That’s why it is called fishing and not catching. I have moved to alternate day fishing (only one line in the water) and tightened up the drag further in the hope of engaging the next zoo creature for longer. War on fish…..

How's Yer Willy (Part 18): Whatever you do... Don't Talk About the War!

It is a long way across here. We currently have been at sea 15 days and have just under 1000 miles left to run. That is going to take around 8 more days. I am actually really enjoying the sailing, especially my own watches. We want to stay as far north as possible but the wind is forcing us south. This can add two days to the time. On my watch today, I managed to alter course and head northwest much to everyone’s surprise. I took over from the skipper who could only make southwest. I don’t think he understood when I explained how it was done. My flying background seems to help a lot analysing what is happening to the sails and whether they are working efficiently or not. This is a bit of an on-going issue for me. I like to sail the boat efficiently and a lot of the time, in my opinion, this is just not happening. Sometimes it is just that people seem unaware of how to trim the sails and balance the boat. Sometimes it is a sort of ‘policy’ issue. An example of such a case is to do with using the poles. In light winds you need these to help the boat sail. Several times we have sailed very well with the poles out all day to be told to change the sail plan and put the poles away at night. The weather is forecast as good, we will go slower on a worse course. If squalls are the issue we can see them approaching on the radar from 10 miles away. In the end , it is not my toybox, so we slow down and meander off . In respect of my relationship with Herman, peace has sort of broken out but only on condition that we don’t talk about the war.

How's Yer Willy (Part 17): More of the Inside story of sailing a long way with 3 strangers

Things have gone downhill. For several days we have had an unhappy boat. I haven’t previously disclosed that I decided to leave the boat in the Galapagos. There were issues from virtually day one in Panama. The skipper threatened at least three times in the first three days after my arrival to put the German off the boat.This was mainly because Herman the German was unbearable. Very self centered, obsessive about cleanliness. I mean truely obsessive to the point of intruding into other people’s space and criticise their ( perfectly normal) habits. He also refused to do anything if it didn’t suit him in that moment. This extended to important things to do with the boat like helping to hunt down spare parts. I put up with it, hoping it would improve, however, it blew up again in the Galapagos and I told the owners that I was leaving. The wife was in tears and I felt pretty small that in some way my leaving was impacting on their enjoyment of their adventure. After a long day of everyone chasing me around town in San Cristobal, Herman apologised and the owners asked me to accept that and stay as they wanted me to continue. Anyhow, Herman hasn’t changed his spots. He doesn’t understand anything about balancing the boat and making it sail without wild rocking. After days of me sailing smoothly and helping the others set up the boat to sail smoothly I got fed up of coming off my watch to handover to Herman. Before I could get into bed, he changes everything and I am bouncing off the walls as if on Blackpool roller coaster. It came to a head one morning when we were all up and preparing to do a simple manoeuvre to alter course called a jibe. It was his watch so he is in charge. He goes into order giving mode in his best German accent. This is another of his annoying traits. He wants to start the engine which is totally unnecessary. He wants to put the sails away and motor around on to the new course and then put the sails out again. This is not the stuff of ‘Yot Meister’ Anyhow he barks me a command to release the sheet. I think he might have meant ease the sheet but that isn’t what he said so I let said sheet fly which seemed to upset him. I shrugged and told him I had done precisely what he had asked. Anyhow, he got it back under control, motored around onto his new course and put the sail out on the other side. The boat is rolling all over the place and we are still motoring so it is impossible to assess how it is sailing. A very important part of the rig of a ketch is the little sail at the back called the mizzen. It acts a bit like the flight on an arrow and stabilises the motion. It was still out in the position it was on the other tack, so the boat is never going to settle. We are motoring on for minutes in 3 meter swells with the boat rolling violently from side to side. Eventually I suggest stopping the engine and looking at the mizzen. This is met with ‘don’t tell me how to sail, I am Yot Meister’. I respond ‘try telling the boat that then because it doesn’t seem to know yet’. You get the picture. I explain that I won’t be taking any further orders or instructions from him. When he goes on watch and I am bouncing off the walls I go on deck and wait for the Skipper to come and save his boat. Skipper then asks me to settle the boat down which I do. Herman has another fit. After a couple of days of this Herman realises that it is better to learn something rather than stay in denial and we start to be civil again. I have had two nights sleep which has improved my demeanour which was not good in any case after my dad’s death. The atmosphere though is still poor.

Summer Squash Fixtures

Here are the fixtures for summer team squash; divisions 1, 2 & 3.
Click on the pages to enlarge and read.
Good luck to all...

How's Yer Willy (Part 16): A Very Sad Sad Day

Sad sad news today. My Dad had a heart attack and after a short time in hospital died around 11.30 UK time on Monday 23rd of April aged 93. RIP.. By the magic of satellite phone I managed a few words with him around 1000. I will miss him and remember him as he was. The attached photo captures a lot of the essence of him.

Dad. You will be sadly missed.

It is quicker to get back from the moon, than from where I am now, so I shall miss his funeral. Thanks to Sarah and the kids for representing me and thanks to the rest of the family for organising things. Dad wanted me to do this trip and enjoyed hearing what it was like when I phoned him from the satellite phone. He had a long and happy life and died relatively peacefully. We will all miss him.

How's Yer Willy (Part 15): Galapagos to Marquesas is a Very Long Way

We are 10 days into our passage now and still making very good time. As I write, we have 1765 of our 3055 miles left to do. The good news is that, although we are not half way by distance , we are more or less half way by time because the first couple of days did not take us towards our destination, but towards the wind that would get us to our destination. Since picking up the wind we have averaged about 175 miles per day and latest estimates get us there around 2nd or 3rd of May, which is on time with my master plan of catching a flight home on 21st June. After this big jump, all the sailing to Tahiti will be a maximum of a couple of days between stops. We are continuing now to catch fish. They have all been Mahi Mahi, so we are pretty Mahi Mahi’ ed out. Since leaving the Galapagos we have only cooked two meals that have not been fish we caught. I took a picture today of one of the flying fish we find every day. They are the most amazing of creatures. Tomorrow we will pass the half way point. I am planning to release a message in a bottle.

Launching the Message in a Bottle

As an incentive to any finder, I am putting $5 in with the message with an incentive of another $50 if the finder sends me back the original message with some extra info. For the record this is what it says: Congratulations on finding this message and enjoy your $5 as a gift from me. My name is Willie Kirkpatrick. I released this message in the Pacific Ocean halfway between the Galapagos Islands and the Marquesas Islands. You can contact me by phone on +441494 680702 or +44 7778613923, or e-mail on w.kirkpatrick549@ btinternet.com or by letter at Wilconnel House, Finch Lane, Beaconsfield, Bucks, HP 9 2 TL. Tell me , who you are, where you live, where and when you found my message and I will send you another $50. Greetings from me and I look forward to hearing from you. Willie. By the way Trevor, and all the rest of you looking for a quick $50, there is a secret mark at the bottom of the note that you will need to describe to get the $50. Sorry!

We had a rough night last night Saturday 21st. The wind picked up to 35 knots at times in rain squalls and the seas are 2.5 to 3 meter swells. The boat is fantastic however. With just a heavily reefed headsail and a tiny scrap of mizzen, we ran on a broad reach and maintained about 7.5 knots over the ground. You need to hang on and chips are off the menu. We have radar on the boat which is very useful for seeing the squalls in the dark and gives the opportunity to alter course to avoid the worst of them. My watch was 3am to 6 am and I actually spotted another ship 5 miles away which I could confirm and track by radar. Boys toys and all that. We have proper cooked breakfast on Sunday, which is settling as I write.

Hows Yer Willy? (Part 14): Galapagos to the Marquesas continued

I have just finished a great night watch. The boat is sailing brilliantly on a beam reach at 7.5 kts, we are making great progress towards the Marquesas where we expect to arrive in the first few days of May. We currently have about 2000 miles left to run to get there. I am pleased to report that fishing operations are on the up. I was allowed to play center forward yesterday whilst Marigold was rested after her exploits of the day before. We have a surfeit of Mahi Mahi. I was feeling despondent come 6 pm. Nothing, not even any flying fish to be seen. Then, just to save the day a Mahi Mahi jumped on my line. Today, roles reversed. Marigold was launched early in the center forward position 150 meters behind the boat and I took up position in a tangle free zone about 15 meters behind the boat. Well, lo and behold, two obliging Mahi Mahi decided to attack my lure and will make an appearance in the fish curry tomorrow. Sadly, Marigold failed to attract any attention, despite poaching in the penalty box all day. There is a strong rumour that she is being retired for a younger ‘ Marigold mark 3′ version to be constructed tomorrow.

Ours was that size, too small for me to want to be in the picture

Life on the boat is currently good. Time passes without boredom, at the expense of lengthy debate. The recent one got going when I pointed out that we had made a further 15 degrees of longditude. This should mean that we have crossed a time zone and alter ship’s time by putting the clock back one hour. I had a small ulterior motive. Ship’s rules allow two cans of beer a day plus a glass of wine with dinner. This is very civilised and very welcome. A sub rule is that the first beer can’t be taken until the sun is above the yard arm, i.e. after 12 noon. By altering ship’s time, that would mean that we could legitimately argue that 1200 was the same as 1100 and have the beer at 1100. This proposal encountered what I would classify as a religious objection from one member of the crew who doesn’t drink beer and who is sometimes referred to as ‘the Admiral’. To defend this undefendable position, the Admiral pointed out that when you go on your holidays, you only alter your watch 15 minutes before you land and by that reasoning we should alter ship’s time 15 minutes before we get off in the Marquesas. I built on this suggestion by reasoning that you may as well not change ship’s time until the end of the circumnavigation and ignore the International date line into the bargain. After a minor impasse, the issue was resolved by agreeing to alter ship’s time at 1300 back to 1200, so beer was delayed one hour today giving satisfaction to the Admiral. Every other day the beer comes an hour earlier. Honours even? We have one more time alteration before the Marquesas.

How's Yer Willy (Part 13): Galapagos to Marquesas: Sarah's birthday

We organise ourselves and the work of sailing the boat around what is called a ‘watch’ system. There are four of us so we take turns at being in charge. When we are on passage like this, the boat never stops and needs to be sailed 24×7. Our watch system starts at 0900 till 1300, 1300 to 1700, 1700 to 2100. At 2100 we change to 3 hour watches for the hours of darkness so it goes 2100 to 0000, 0000 to 0300, 0300 to 0600 and 0600 to 0900. That means each one of us does a night watch and we each lose as little sleep as possible. Because there are only 3 four hour day watches, you don’t end up doing the same watch every day.

Last night I had the 2100 to midnight watch. Normally the boat sails itself. In fact, the boat doesn’t know that it is dark. It gets trickier when things don’t stay stable. Last night nothing stayed stable. The wind was from nothing to 20 kts and the direction from east round to southwest. Add to that no moon and torrential rain. The net effect is that you can’t see a thing, are getting soaked and the boat won’t stay doing what you want it to do. Fortunately it is a very clever boat and now that I have gotten used to it, putting up and down the sails and making them larger or smaller is genuinely just the press of a button. No more Hosey knots. It all reminds me of night flying where you couldn’t see anything and just had to trust that you knew what you were doing. At least night flying the aeroplane didn’t pitch and buck about, which is he other small problem. Anyhow, I am on 0000 to 0300 tonight. Let’s hope for an easier time!

Well today we had a very happy boat. The wind behaved very well last night and my watch was a lot simpler. I listened to music and tried to phone home on the satellite phone. No one picking up but granny , who is coming to live with us. The winds continued to be kind today and not only have we made very good progress, but we have also caught fish, which is a certain morale booster. On the progress front, my i- pad tells me that we are averaging about 8.2 knots . This is very good and the wind is forecast to stay about the same. We are pointed more or less where we want to go so in 24 hours we will cover 8.2 x 24 nautical miles which is about 196 nm. That is very fast and will bring us to Hiva Oa well before my previous estimate of 10 th May. We are showing 2444 nm to run which comes out as a further 12.5 days meaning we arrive on 30th April 10 days earlier than previous estimates. All in all I expect we will arrive somewhere between the two having taken around 24 days from leaving the Galapagos on 12th April.

On to the fishing. Marigold is getting a bit annoying. We are not really set up properly to troll two lines, so like a good crew, I rig up Marigold and let her fish where she wants to and I then fit in , depending on the conditions, where I think that I can avoid any tangles. This is akin to wanting to score goals but having to play as the goalkeeper. Today has been the first day that there have been fish around. Marigold caught 3 and lost one mahi mahi. I am the idiot standing on the transom at the back with the gaff, swinging wildly on my lifeline trying to get the fish in and not fall in or hook myself. So far a 100% record. I caught a mahi mahi too which happened to be hanging around my goal area. As I reeled it in, it took a dive and then something else much heavier grabbed it, bust my line and took my lure. Not a happy Willie. To add further insult to injury, I am doing the washing up in the galley after a not to be beaten dinner of lightly battered mahi mahi and fried potatoes. The galley has a small porthole which was open. A suicidal 6 inch long flying fish, flew through the window and clunked me on the head. I had no idea what had hit me until I heard flapping at my feet. This was the luckiest flying fish as I chucked him back overboard. His wingman missed the window and died of head injuries on the deck.

A flying fish like the one that hit me on the head while I was cooking

My watch tonight is 3 am to 6am so fishing operations will commence early ahead of Marigold who undergoes some sort of secret fish attracting ritual in the back cabin each day. Ceviche for lunch tomorrow. Mahi mahi marinated in lemon juice with garlic onion and ginger, served with chopped tomatoes and anything else green we can find. P.s. we are eating a lot of potatoes because they are going off. Headline…. Potato famine on paddy boat crossing pacific.

Today is 20th April and it is a special day because it is Sarah’s birthday. For the strangers out there Sarah is my wife. I couldn’t be having this great experience without Sarah’s support and I want to take this opportunity to publicly thank her and the rest of my family. Have a really happy birthday Sarah and I am looking forward to getting back home to you.Thanks also to those of you who are supporting Sarah and keeping her involved while I am gone.