AZAB Race

Today the AZAB race left Falmouth - some 70 boats took part in a race to the Azores which will take about 8/9 days to get there (for further details see www.azab.co.uk) According to Himself, they then have a few parties, unwind, sleep and eat for a week or so and then head homewards.

You would have had pictures to accompany this but the dense sea mist hadn't lifted enough to give a good camera picture. Still, they got a good send off - people crowded round Pendennis Point, the castle, along the seafront, holding binoculars (the keen ones like himself) and talking in very Nautical Terms. Being very un-nautical despite Himself's teachings, I asked, 'where do you they go from here? Left or right?'
Himself laughed. 'If they went right, they'd end up in Truro, you nutter. To get to the Azores you head down to Helford, put in a tack, down to the Manacles, another tack and round the Lizard.'
Just as well someone knows where they're going. If I'd been in charge they would have ended up the river in Tesco's.

Mollie thoroughly enjoyed this outing as it meant a good walk from the car to our viewing point. She also met a wild eyed, manic boxer and another scruffy looking terrier who was smartly put on a lead, to Mollie's disgust. She just wanted to play but apparently the other one bites. 'She has to rule the roost,' said her owner, with a mix of pride and despair.
I was tempted to explain that the dog needn't rule the roost - she just needs to be trained properly, but had a feeling this wouldn't go down too well. The owner should read Euro Dog (see links).

I turned on the radio on the way to walk Moll later and heard an artist being interviewed who sounded just like a friend who died two years ago. Her voice was so like this woman's that I started wondering whether Jane had faked her own death and absconded to America to join her children. Believe me, if you'd met Jane, this is quite possible. I could see Jane, restored to her former glory, lapping up the sunshine somewhere, with an attentive man by her side. I say restored because she lost her sight due to glaucoma, and by the end of her life also needed a hip replacement, had no money and lived in a cottage that resembled the inside of a boat - tiny, crammed full of ornaments from her colourful life. Apart from her carers, her most regular visitors were Brian who cleaned the public toilets opposite and a robin. She enjoyed animated conversations with both, but Brian could make tea and biscuits for her.

Throughout all her latter problems she remained cheerful (in company) and resolute. She adored company of any kind, loved a good gossip, a drink, a smoke and a laugh. She was fiercely intelligent, an ace flirt and an inspiration to us all. Jane, here's to you.