The trouble with being smug is that sooner or later, you get your comeuppance.
For instance, I am well aware that I can be annoyingly smug about having nothing wrong with me at the age of 74 – well, nothing physical anyway: No aches and pains, no stick, no specs, no dentist’s bills and so on…
Worse still, I keep going on about the nutrition supplement I take instead of pharmaceutical products.
For instance, if I do get a niggling little twinge, I just take more of the stuff – as happened the other day when the big knuckle on my right hand started to ache. Sure enough, I took another helping in the evening for a few days, and the ache went away.
But then it came back – and that shouldn’t happen.
For about a week, I have been wondering whether I should share this on the blog – after all, it’s a bit dishonest not to report all the news – good and bad.
I was thinking about this as I doled out the morning spoonful – and if you are anywhere in the United Kingdom at the moment, you will not be surprised to hear that breakfast is being taken in the cockpit: We’re just embarking on the summer we seemed to have missed…
Also, those who have been paying attention will be aware of the new cockpit table – or, to put it another way – the new single-piece washboard wedged on top of the tiller so that it doubles as a cockpit table. It’s the perfect size, and you’re never going to need a cockpit table and a washboard at the same time, are you?
It is also exceptionally beautiful because of the month I spent in Amsterdam, giving it twelve coats of varnish.
…with the result that now it gets stuck in the grooves, and I have to give it a thump to free it.
The consequences of the thump are why I am telling you all this. The thump has to be on the inside. If I am administering it from the cockpit, I reach down and bang as if thumping on a table to applaud a particularly notable speech. Job done.
If I am inside, the ergonomics are rather different. Somehow, it comes more naturally to punch the companionway with my fist.
I’ve been doing this every morning: Knuckles on one end. Eighteen mil plywood on the other.
I’ve stopped doing it now.
Yes, exactly…
The same effect can be achieved with the table-thumping technique (after all, it is a table the rest of the time).
And guess what? My knuckle doesn’t hurt any more.
Do think I can claim the supplement has intelligence-enhancing properties?
A one-piece washboard…

…or a cockpit table.
Hi John. At 72, I also feel a little smug for the same reasons, especially when so many of our age seem to have ailments as long as your arm. However, I find that a kiwi fruit every morning seems to do the trick for me. Happy sailing !!
I think we all recognize a bit of ourselves here. Good Sailing, I at 78 have moved on the noise of a small diesel.
Sounds like a First World problem!
And…. do I recognise a pot of Bonne Maman jam/marmalade? Croissants! And a whole pot of coffee….
Decadence!
You do!
Being smug is it’s own reward.