Thalassa West County Cruise – Post IFOS – July/August 2005

Johnnie Winther
It’s good news to be cruising with Johnnie.
Whatever the subject he’s on ‘e
Never fails to amuse
All his time on the cruise Genuinely, genuinely funny!

Philip Hogge
Then there’s Endeavour-trained Phil.
Such amazing experience and skill
Could be called ‘Supercrew’
For all he can do
Small wonder he seldom sits still.

Hap Russel
And all of those gadgets of Hap’s,
The most polymathic of chaps
His inquiring mind
Of the most penetrating kind
No discussion with Hap’s gonna lapse.

David Waddell
Now David (please don’t call him Dave,
Or he’ll foam at the mouth and then rave)
Salad chef sans pareil
Even when under way
Army life on the Ocean Wave.

Anthony Thorne
Anthony’s pyjamas, such elegance and style
Caused many an admiring smile
His reminiscences come in at A guinea a minute
More smiling for mile upon mile.

The Skipper
Finally Richard, inspirational Skipper Still nimble and lithe as a nipper
So relaxed and at ease
Whatever the breeze
Loves fine wine and good food, not to mention
salad cream, pickled onions, avocado, lobster languistines, cherries
and, of course, a good kipper.
Ian Hewitt

    We remember “Radio Daly” of Irish Fork Lift fame, whose fruity language tested the Skipper and whose mouth was usually already full when grace was said. R.S.H. was only just behind.
Ronnie and Malvina Hicks

The near death experience of a rubber dinghy
    Early one morning in the Belon River, we were making ready to depart after a gourmet dinner the night before at Chez Jaquie. Thalassa was facing down river from a stern line attached by a secure bowline to an offshore visitors’ mooring. However the ebb had started and a stiff breeze was blowing on the port quarter. Your correspondent was duly despatched in the dinghy to wait by the mooring. On our hero’s command “Let go aft” it became apparent that the warp was too tight to release the bight in the bowline and unusually there was no sale or return second line with which those on board could take the strain off the stern line, nor would motoring astern have had an affect owing to the lateral windage.
Our man of action therefore ordered “cut the line” and I disentangled my marlin/knife combination from a twisted pocket in my trousers by which time the taut rope was way above the dinghy and my head. Good seamanship in these circumstances demands an upward cut, but kneeling on the dinghy thwart, I had no purchase for this, so with “cut the line” ringing in my ears, I reached over the stern line and with a masterly coup we were free. Unfortunately I lost my balance off the thwart and the knife continued downwards into the dinghy in a manner Jack the Ripper would have been proud of. The punctured half promptly sank while I scrambled into the floating end. I cannot recall how the water-logged dinghy and its soaking crewman were dragged aboard, but I rather thought I heard the order “up main and cut the painter.”
Luckily the next port of call was Benodet where, having a marina, there was no requirement to row ashore. Yves Mallet and I disembarked and to the strains of Marseillaise and solemn requiem, the corpse was carried away. We reached a chandler who assessed the corpse doubtfully, but said he would do what he could. Mirabile dictum within 12 hours a remarkable resurrection had taken place. The ingenious Frenchman had applied a huge vulcanised patch to the tear and our dinghy was restored to good health for another season or two to the intense delight of our skipper.
Anthony Hignett 

To acquire an Indian Princess’s beauty-spot on the forehead, sit up in the top bunk at night!
Christopher and Gwenda Hordern