Life on the ocean wave…

I'm definitely getting the hang of this relaxed approach to blogging!

In my defence, I have been on holiday, where I finally got to see dolphins–totally magical–and top of my 'things to do before I die' list. We were told we might not actually get to see dolphins, since the weather was so bad, and the sea quite choppy, but as Patrick is a keen would-be sailor, who dreams of one day owning a boat, we decided to go anyway, and just enjoy the trip.

The harbour walls were decorated
with art depicting nationalities of
all the boats that had moored there.

Now I'm not actually that keen on sailing, thanks to a father who regularly dragged me along to crew (code for doing all the rubbish stuff) on his boat, which didn't even have a cabin I could hide in. This boat, a Squib (I kid you not) was damp, uncomfortable, and moored on a part of the river Crouch where the breeze would suddenly disappear, leaving us becalmed and bored, while we waited for a charitable club member, whose boat had an outboard motor (why didn't we have one of those?) to tug us back to our off-shore mooring. Here we would wait again for the ferry (a tiny rowing boat) to take us back to the jetty.

To make matters worse, our 'changing room' was a rusty, leaking caravan, partly held up by bricks as one of its wheels was missing (Dad was convinced this was a far more sensible option than paying unnecessary club fees). Here, I (a fashion conscious youngster) would be forced to don rubber wellies and an enormous yellow jacket with a big black puffin on its back, which made me far more conspicuous than I wanted to be, as we made our 1/4 mile trek to and from the marina, ladened with duffle bags full of sails.

So, I don't have fond memories of sailing…

But the dolphins changed all that! I was so mesmerised by their acrobatics, and how they arched over the big waves, that I didn't notice other dolphin watchers slowly retreating to the the back of the boat. Soon, even Patrick was asking for a slice of lemon to hold to his nose (a remedy for sea sickness) and a plastic bag–just in case. Why I didn't get ill, I don't know, perhaps luck, or perhaps I was just too excited at the prospect of seeing more dolphins–or even a pilot whale–to worry about the motion of the ocean.

Back on dry land,
the grimace turned to a smile,
and the sun came out.

I have much to thanks those wonderful dolphins for, not only did they make my fiftieth birthday, but they also (only temporarily, I suspect) put Patrick off sailing. That means he won't be buying a boat any time soon, and I won't have to crew or wear rubber wellies and a high visability waterproof jacket–result!

Elizabeth,
x.
PS: sewing posts to follow soon–I promise!