I’m not one to ‘throw myself about’ but several nice events have happened recently.
A week or so back when my sister and two friends were aboard we had berthed at the creek side pontoon of the lovely Stour Sailing Club. On our departure day the crew had wandered ashore to pay respects to the clubs coffee morning to pick up some sausage rolls and cake – all for a charity.
They were waylaid by a couple of people wanting to know if ‘the boat’ they were on was Nick Ardley’s Whimbrel, adding, ‘cos they loved his books…
Sunset at Manningtree.
I thought it was a nice thing to say.
The crew were chuffed!
Some days later Whimbrel arrived at Titchmarsh to be met by the boat’s real mate … my crew for the week departed. During the afternoon there was a knock on the cabin top .
Standing on the pontoon was a dapper chap of around eighty smiling and looking Whimbrel up and down.
He asked if I was…
The chap proudly came aboard for a cup of tea and a natter. He and his late wife had read some of my books, greatly enjoying them. He kept his boat in the marina and was enjoying a weekend with a lady friend!
‘Was I still writing,’ the chap asked when leaving.
I smiled, saying, ‘No, not at the moment…’
The Mate stood as a sentinel awaiting her beau…
Whimbrel n the Tidemill Marina at Woodbridge.
Now moving onwards we sailed into the River Deben stooging around the river for several days in a relaxing fashion before hitting Woodbridge for a planned three night stopover.
During our stay an ‘old fashioned’ GRP sloop came into the harbour berthing across from us. There was an spry oldish looking chap at the helm who seemed to be leaving all the mooring duties to a younger female companion. I was hailed by the chap … ‘Was I still writing … is there a new book…’
I had been working on a repair to Twitch’s mast foot support and was at a leave it stage. Mate was busy doing the laundry, so I popped over to the boat. The boat can be seen in a photograph of Whimbrel alongside, beyond astern.
It transpired that the lady was the chaps daughter – around sixty years of age – ‘a boat child’ she said. He, he said, was ninety-three… His daughter was doing a week with dad to allow him to cruise a bit. The boat is kept at a mooring in the Walton Channel by the juncture of the Twizzle. He’s oft seen us in passing, waved as per and always wanted to meet: he and late wife were readers of my books enjoying the tales of Whimbrel and crew. However, he was a little out of date with the list – daughter said I’d fixed future birthday and Christmas presents!
The chap has had a long and fascinating sailing life and once owned from new a Finesse 21, Harmony, a boat which was fire damaged at Iron Wharf yard some years ago during a big blaze at the yard and has ‘disappeared’ I know not where.
His daughter was ecstatic at meeting ‘the author’… and as it turned out was reading ‘Mudlarking’ as a holiday read!
I stayed for tea and left feeling both honoured and embarrassed!
It would appear that I had met an old sailor very happy, but blimey, could I still be sailing into my nineties…
One can hope!