Mouth of the Dart
A friend recently pointed out an annoying habit many people have of starting their sentences with the word “So”. He’s right. It’s odd how things like this catch on so quickly and I blame it on The Internet in the same way as my parents blamed everything on all those atom bombs they kept letting off.
So, I did Dartmouth Week regatta last week. Boat towed down on Monday. Cork 1720. Test run Tuesday. Gale and torrential rain on Wednesday so skipped the Brixham passage race. Instead two of us rose early and walked through the rain to the boat getting thoroughly saturated then spent hours with clothes in front of heaters trying to dry out. Ah, Summertime in England.
For lunch, to a pub named The Cherub. Old. Tudor. Flowers. Two pints of “Yotter” and a baked potato with cheese. After; home for a snooze then out again for more beer and dinner before bed. My type of day really.
Lancaster over Dartmouth
Raced for the rest of the week. First race we led our class for a bit then jinxed it by considering crossing the finish line first before we’d even hit the first mark. This set the trend. Optimistic starts followed by reasonably skilled sailing then awful cockups before becoming resigned to coming in well down but having had a great day and only hit one other boat. Good to hit one boat on the first day, we reasoned, to make sure the rest of them stay clear. Sportsboat class taken by a J70. New J-Boat with a lifting keel. Evenings spent consuming pints of bitter and watching loud air displays. No British celebration complete without a war reference so a Lancaster, a Hurricane and a Spitfire. Then, next day, the Red Arrows. Prefer Dartmouth to Cowes these days as cheaper, fewer tossers and less crowded so possible to get into the pubs and restaurants. Dartmouth is also a great natural harbour. A smallish river but just round the corner and you’re out into open sea. Great castle like structures at the entrance to the river too.
Jenga 8 – (J70)
Fantastic Art Photography
Art Photography
