Nice trick this morning on the misty moisty dog walk. We went through the fields and came back through the boatyard, where at, several boats up on blocks while they are restored, repaired, painted etc. Some of these are long term projects and they set them up for the duration with makeshift rooves over them, walls round and flights of temporary steps to give access to the decks
One such big old yacht has a keel so tall Dad's head is always below the plimsoll line and the deck level is a full ten feet from the ground. So as we all walked along the creek bank wharf, Dad was a bit surprised when I suddenly shot off after (he knows now) the scraggy big boatyard tom-cat; a black and white, moth-eaten demon of a thing. He kept walking with Meg and the H, till he realised I wasn't among those present. They stopped, whistled, clapped, shouted etc, fully expecting me to emerge, panting from under a pile of rubbish, or a boat, or from behind a caravan with that "Nearly got him, Dad" grin. I did not reappear
Retracing their steps to see where I could have gone, Dad spotted me, ten feet up, looking down at him from the deck of the yacht, about 6 feet back from the prow, where-in sat the cat, glaring and singing "Come on then you tart! Come and have ago if you fink you're 'ard enough!". I couldn't see how to get down to Dad - he had to go all round to the back of the boat, encouraging me to go the same way, ten feet above, till I got to the top of the open flight of ricketty stairs and sussed it.
Happy to be re-united; was in a bit of a pickle there!
Have a good weeekend
Deefer
One such big old yacht has a keel so tall Dad's head is always below the plimsoll line and the deck level is a full ten feet from the ground. So as we all walked along the creek bank wharf, Dad was a bit surprised when I suddenly shot off after (he knows now) the scraggy big boatyard tom-cat; a black and white, moth-eaten demon of a thing. He kept walking with Meg and the H, till he realised I wasn't among those present. They stopped, whistled, clapped, shouted etc, fully expecting me to emerge, panting from under a pile of rubbish, or a boat, or from behind a caravan with that "Nearly got him, Dad" grin. I did not reappear
Retracing their steps to see where I could have gone, Dad spotted me, ten feet up, looking down at him from the deck of the yacht, about 6 feet back from the prow, where-in sat the cat, glaring and singing "Come on then you tart! Come and have ago if you fink you're 'ard enough!". I couldn't see how to get down to Dad - he had to go all round to the back of the boat, encouraging me to go the same way, ten feet above, till I got to the top of the open flight of ricketty stairs and sussed it.
Happy to be re-united; was in a bit of a pickle there!
Have a good weeekend
Deefer
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