The funeral’s on Thursday, in Portchester. We’re all going down there. I do feel so terribly terribly much for my two nephews. Dear lads, grieving so bravely and with great dignity. I never thought I say this (not being very used to “young people”) but I am very proud to be their uncle.
Memsahib allatsea and I couldn’t have children (we nearly did, in 2004, but sadly she miscarried and I was in Angola and Noble Denton didn’t bring me home….bless them) so we’re not really used to having ‘children’ around us. I actually find it intimidating. Having the boys over now has been a delight despite the awful circumstances. Maybe it was all meant to be? No idea.
I qualified as a Master Mariner quite late in life. After a breakneck start to a nautical career that saw early passing of tickets while many others fell by the way side (they were tough old things to pass in those days and I joke not) and some very interesting jobs I settled down to a lacklustre and signally undemanding life ashore in my thirties. At the dizzy age of 45 however I finally qualified as a master and was unwillingly pushed up the gangway to be Master about 9 pico seconds after opening the envelope that said ‘Pass’. I was pretty cheesed off because I was very happy as a chief mate. You got to do all the driving and handling you wanted to do but with the glorious option of being able to call on the skipper if things got too hard. As Skipper you had no such escape route and I hated it. No balls I guess but so be it, it was what it was.
Anyway, what’s all that got to do with today and this post? Well………having just spent 6 hours going through folk’s certification and NOK details and pictures and CVs and entering it into the project database, I’m wondering why I’m doing such a brain dead task through a Monday night (apart from being paid huge wodges of dosh it has to said). Years of study and dedication to get a Master’s licence and then to be doing this dross???? Eeeeeh there’s nowt so queer as folk.