Go Forth, always! (Fluctuat nec mergitur)

What can I say? A picture is worth a thousand words. I will attempt a few dozen nevertheless: look at the steely determination of his commanding profile, teeth clenched, sea water hanging on to every eye lash, yet never losing sight of the faint outline of Aberdour in the distance - when cresting mountainous waves, his assured hand firmly gripping the tiller, with the SK lovingly looking up to her hero (extra) busying himself restraining  the feral Rascallion, keeping it on course through the squall.

What baptism of fire (and salty water) that was! While others painfully go through the tedium of packaged island-hopping sailing holidays in the Caribbean, I was given the unique opportunity to experience True Sailing.  Within 10 minutes of setting off from the grand old Granton harbour! The adrenaline was pumping I can tell you! Expertly slicing through the cresting waves, we made our way through successive squalls until the weather improved as swiftly as it had deteriorated. Never take anything for granted on the high seas!

It was so exhilarating to be alive when we reached Aberdour that I decided to feel more alive than alive and threw myself into the harbour. What a lovely swim that was. I also learned that an estuary is less salty than the ocean. My nautical vocabulary quadrupled in the space of a few hours. I was even given an award winning rendition of the Ballad of Sir Patrick Spens – that was the cherry on the Mimi cake.

I cannot be thankful enough to my wonderful hosts for such a delightful experience. There was laughter, cakes, fear for one’s life (very briefly), more laughter, tea and wonderful tales of travels through the Deep South (my favourite was definitely  the WLOX anecdote, the local TV station in Gulfport and Biloxi).

Thank you both. It felt like Christmas and my birthday rolled into one.