I have started learning Yoga from Desmond Dunne’s 1961 classic Yoga Made Easy – and discover that the exercise I recommend on the Bad Back page is, in fact, a pose called The Cobra (Bhujangasana): “An exercise to make the spine amazingly supple and flexible, at the same time it revitalises abdominal muscles. Kidney, liver … Read more
I have just been reading Leslie Johansen Nack’s book Fourteen about sailing the Pacific and this is her decription from 1974: Seeing the dolphins every single day never got boring or old. There were often twenty or thirty dolphins, maybe more because it was hard to count when they all came up at different times… … Read more
In the rigging, the foul weather gear drips beige water onto the deck. The dinghy floats obediently astern, looking as though it’s just come out of its box – and in the cockpit locker, the kedge anchor sits snug in its stowage with the chain and warp flaked into the canvas bag awaiting the next … Read more
Captain Calamity appeared every August, regular as clockwork. He would be an old man sailing a wreck of an old boat that he’d picked up for a song and he would be navigating by road map – usually an out-of-date AA handbook. And, of course, the lifeboat would go and fetch him. It is one … Read more
Everywhere I look, I see land. Rather muddy land, admittedly. But here, half a mile further up Kirby Creek, surrounded by saltings and winding water, with only the birds and the seals for company, I am as protected as I can be. Last night we had a bit of wind and it barely raised a … Read more
This the scene in Samsara’s cabin tonight – candlelit, as you can see. I appear to have run out of electricity Well, not really, of course: The engine battery is still raring to go at 12.8volts but I can’t touch that – who knows when I may need to start the engine in an … Read more
Saturday November 10th I’m not alone after all. Anchoring last night in Kirby Creek in the Walton Backwaters, the only other vessel was a tiny fishing boat on a mooring – unoccupied … and still I left 300 yards between us. Then, today, an old man (another one) rowed acoss in an ancient weed-covered dinghy … Read more
“A Rival is she?” The harbourmaster stood and looked as Samsara, dried out against the scrubbing posts at Felixstowe Ferry and proudly showing off a clean bottom. (If you have been following this blog, you may have seen the picture of “The Infestation” of goose barnacles which appeared out of nowhere). I had just … Read more
