Woods Gypsy Catamaran 28 (Maybe - not sure)
I hardly ever mention catamarans here at my Blog, but today is one of those rare exceptions. Many of you will know that I have a favourite walk along the south side of the River Crouch at South Fambridge. As I take in the air and exercise my limbs, my eyes focus on the yachts moored in the River. Now and again I imagine I’m the owner of one that takes my fancy. I picture the yacht dancing over the waves and see the clouds skipping for joy. I hear the wind’s tune, and feel the throb of the hull as the boat slices through wave top spray; behind, there’s a wake of golden bubbles and the sun’s rays warm my heart.
Well, there’s a lot to the imagination for those who can imagine. And when I see the potential of a yacht and an owner sharing their dream, I delight in letting my imagination run riot. A yacht is not an inanimate object, but a creature with a soul and a life. She lives for a time then dies. In between, she sometimes almost dies, and then is restored for another chance of life. She almost dies because her partner lets her down. He neglects her, and leaves her to the ravages of destructive forces: the driving rain, frost, snow and even the baking sun. Moth, worm, dust, wind and storm, all combine their intent to reduce a thing of beauty and purpose into a worthless heap, no more to have life, but while the owner and his partner delight in one another there is care and protection, harmony, life, fun and a future.
I know these things, for I have seen them and experienced them. When I consider a vessel such as the catamaran pictured above, I wonder if her owner loves her as she deserves. I believe he does, because she is in fine fettle and her paint sparkles. She bobs to her mooring, waiting faithfully for shared adventures to come.
Woods Gypsy Catamaran