Four Weeks
by Ian Curtress
This is a
particularly nasty squall, unpredictable and
never ending.
Why do we put ourselves through this for pleasure.
Of course I know the answer. When on shore we are
impatient to put to sea again.
There is no simple answer, it’s the
challenge, the freedom, the exhilaration, the
smell of the sea.
To see the sails fill, the boat surge. Say no
more.
It had been a longish trip of four weeks and time
to make for UK shores to see family and replenish
stores.
Wind change, fickle weather
The sea is a little too calm now making only a
couple of knots but sunshine warm and sky a
poetic blue. A glimpse of heaven.
I messed around with boats when young, having the
joy of living on the coast and then in mid teens
took up sailing seriously. How to sail in all
conditions, how to remain safe and how to survive.
Before I knew it I was hooked.
I crewed whenever and wherever . Saved every
penny I could, sold my car, could walk to
moorings, not far, and finally bought this lovely
thirty two foot very seaworthy boat.
Have been exceptionally lucky in having a sailing
mad partner who if I’m honest has skills
beyond mine.(don’t tell her I said that).
We have used up all our holiday entitlements on
this trip but have enjoyed endless pleasure and
happiness together with some remarkable memories.
Have weathered some stormy seas as in the last
squall but built our confidence in our
capabilities and on the home stretch.
Have just noticed a small blue fishing boat about
a mile off. Looked through glasses and can’t
tell whether they are pulling their nets in or
bailing.
Can’t get them on radio but can pick out
three fishermen working on deck so all seems ok.
They can see us easily, bright white mainsail but
just in case sounded our very loud fog horn. They
continued to be very active so all was obviously
fine.
One more night has passed and we are now near our
destination, not home moorings but where we will
meet up with family.
They were pleased to see our return and to hear
details of the trip and conditions encountered.
After a pleasant evening we have returned to our
boat for the night with a view to walking around
the town in the morning.
Have done some shopping, mainly essentials and do
what we always do when there is one. Visit the
Lifeboat Station.
Never cease to marvel at the dedication and risk
these volunteers are prepared to accept twenty
four seven.
Chatting to the Station manager and he said they
were all suffering from their inability to find a
fishing boat four weeks ago. It had not returned
when it was due and a full search was mounted.
They spent three days daylight hours without
success, no wreckage or lifebelts.
Not a sign and it was finally called off. Sunk
without trace.
He showed us their log
An awful shiver went down our backs
There it was.
A small blue fishing boat. Janet. Three souls on
board.
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