The Day after the Night Before

Snugly asleep in the forecastle
Sun Stars glistening on ruffled water

Cameron and Brown eye up the situation after the General Election; each acts the part of being statesmen while trying to reassure the British people that wise and strong government will prevail. The pound sinks in value deeper than it has for a while, reminding us of the recession. There are bleary eyes and heavy heads from the traumas of the night, but there is jubilation with those who have been elected as our representatives. Isn’t it great that these dedicated servants of the people who put our County before their Party want to get on with sorting out the mess? I don’t envy them, because even their pockets will feel the pinch in the days and months to come.


Assets such as yachts are valuable, but even they will be worth less until the economy gets back on its feet. Meanwhile those who own yachts, country cottages and the like can get away from time to time, to find quietness and to console themselves in these gloomy days. They can briefly escape the rat race in an effort to forget their worries, their stresses and responsibilities. Like these escapees I took time off for a few hours today whilst visiting my boat for a quiet time, but I also took the opportunity to put gear aboard ‘Ladybird’ in preparation for my forthcoming cruise in June and July - God willing! I carefully packed my rubber dinghy into her valise and stowed her snugly in the forecastle, along with her oars and pump. I also found room for my pots and pans which I shall use for cooking meals.


After lunch I relaxed and lay back on a berth where I listened to the familiar welcome tune of ‘Ladybird’. She’s a skilful musician who conducts her orchestra with empathetic tenderness for those willing to accept her beneficial therapy. She reacts to the vagaries of the wind and tunes her rigging so that her strings resonate melodiously. Her bow makes joyful notes as wavelets runnel along her sides. The singing kettle taps a metallic rhythmic ditty when it rocks on the cooking stove rack and the bow cable responds with antiphonal squeaks. Through my closed eyelids sunrays darting from the window above intermittently brighten my retinas causing my brain to see speckled patterns of orange and gold like sun stars glistening on ruffled water. As the boat rolls from side to side I steady my body with my legs spread apart, then I arch my back and yawn. I sink into the soft foam berth and a warm glow of comfort flows through my heart as I enter a world of dreams and slumber.


No more do I remember the day before or the grief stricken politicians who wail the peoples’ verdict and for me today is another beginning.