There's Truth In That There Old Boat.

    Three years ago, on the 28th June 2019, I invited readers of this blog 'to take their seats for the Boris Johnson Show, with a drop in hand.' I professed myself to be 'settling in for this morality play in London with both a grim fascination, a frisson of amusement, and a fair degree of trepidation.... The only value that seems to be generally recognised today is that of personal autonomy. Well Mr Johnson just about sums up where that trip ends up. Undoubtedly he will sooner or later self destruct, but how much damage will he do in the process?'

     He is having to be dragged from No.10 kicking and screaming, yet worse trouble is that the main lie on which the house of cards was built will be even harder to get rid of, and there's not much sign of this happening any time soon, despite the obvious fulfillment of our forebodings about Brexit with regard to the British economy, for Ulster and the prospects of young people. Things have turned out even worse than Europeans of British extraction like myself feared, but there is still no prospect of a British Prime Minister or Government who will admit this, let alone do anything serious about it.

     On what basis can anyone hope to unite the Conservative Party anyway, let alone the 'United Kingdom'? Sentimental, nostalgic nationalism certainly won't do it. If they have recourse to another general election and a 'new mandate', they will still be in trouble. Unfortunately, that Sir Starmer looks like something of a wimp, refusing to grasp the nettle of Brexit, so the once Great Britain has even more existential issues to deal with than the lesser island from whence I look on; but the whole world is tumbling on to some cataclysm that only time will reveal!

Ice-cream time at Mary O's.

     Meanwhile some of us are doing what we can for the future; indeed everything we touch has to take into account the effects it will have for our grandchildren. It's still a great world, really worth struggling for. But it's no use thinking, for instance, that since we are fine and cool here while most of Europe is scorching, we don't have to worry about the climate. Anyway one has to get off this island of Ireland now and again, and where would we be without wine and olice oil? The Gannetsway is the geographic zone that I find most congenial!

     The ding-dong between County Clare and Nazaré has become something of a habit which has been working well for myself. There's a very handy Ryanair flight that, along with buses, enables me to do it in a day, both directions. I would much rather sail, but that will have to wait for the time being. Even the Bilbao ferry is problematic in the summer, - besides the time it takes and being only available for a very expensive car journey, it is actually hard to get a booking in the high season. Wouldn't it be great to have a sail-electric schooner reaching back and forth all summer, with both people and a cargo of goodies?

     Like most sailors, I do miss my family, being away so much, and was particularly sad to miss a grandson's confirmation a couple of weeks ago. Still, sometimes such necessary absences can actually deepen relationships; anything is better than falling into a boring, introverted routine! On the principle that lamps should be put on lamp-stands, I shall post a little poem I wrote for him:-

A Smile for Bede, on his Confirmation Day.

Deep in the Sea of Memory,
Beneath the turbulent zone,
In sombre, solemn obscurity
At the limits of our perception,
A glint of treasure lies
At our very foundation.

After the fierce ordeal of birth,
It was a smile of recognition,
Encouragement, peace and mirth.
Thence grew into our waiting world
Faith, Hope and Charity
For us to gather when we’re called.

So that glint let us remember
When on the restless surface waves
Our fragile boats do founder;
Live in the enduring serenity

Of Light above, below, around us;
Blessed, ever-present Trinity.

    If one struggles to stay sane these days, I do recommend the Catholic ways of praying, - the Psalms, Mass, the Rosary; but I believe anyone of any faith and none can have a go at the wonderful gift of prayer. For a start, it is necessary to find a way to still the clamour in our minds, which constantly distracts us, causing us to spin off in a myriad directions, and to concentrate on actual, positive and beautiful realities that might pierce the armour of our egos, collapse our phantasies, require us to commit to a process that may not be simply put aside, and thus put us in touch with the transcendent truths which it involves. 

     It should not be difficult to understand that making any kind of passage in a sailing boat can come in handy here. I was out last evening in the Sally O'Keefe with some dear old ship-mates. The last time our Mary Emma, Tony Whelan and myself were sailing together was

Old Shipmates.

in 2005 when we crossed the Atlantic together. Here we are with Steve Morris, who built that Sally O'Keefe and has been helping me with the Anna M,- indeed without his help I would be nowhere.  The same is true of course for Alec in Nazaré, and quite a few other people come to that, not to mention Fiona. 

     It's a very ambitious and somewhat haphazard plan, and I still do not know how it will be completed, but already it shows how commitment brings its own graces and gifts. When this happens, one is reassured that the project is not just an ego trip. It is prayer that keeps one right! This gives me the freedom to dream on about sail/electric boats fit to fish and to trade up and down between Ireland and the Iberian Peninsula; so dreams and talk have their place, though with time mere ideas are soon blown away if actual results are not forthcoming. Mr Johnson illustrated brilliantly what happens when dreams are marshalled to the service of egos, but it is a problem for all of us.            

     Endurance through all sorts of difficulties is a good sign. One has to take every opportunity for a sight; signs, affirmations from whatever quarter so long as they come from somewhere outside ourselves and are not mere reflections our our own desires, but rather of some kind of project with enduring values and relationships. It is part of the grace and joy of being elderly that this becomes easier when one really does have to face the fact that our ego is a busted flush, and whoever is going to inherit the fruits of our efforts, on the face of it, it can only be ourselves in a very limited way! 

      I am happy to report that the Anna M should be able to take to the water again early next year. I have just completed the serious work of routing out all the seams between the planks. This goes well with a new bit in the router, but the attrition from which they suffer means one is likely to be struggling again all too soon, considering they seem to be impossible to sharpen and cost at least €30 a pop.  Anyway that's done, Anatole is gluing splines of hardwood into the grooves, and Dario is chiselling and sanding them level, so she will be ready for an epoxy and glassfibre skin in the autumn, when things will have cooled down. Meanwhile they are working inside the hull, installing water tanks, battery storage, quarter berths, and a new floor ready for the furniture.

Port side ready for epoxy and glass skin.

     

Quarter berths

Home  for the Summer, though plenty of work such as making a hen run and painting the house, not to mention serious background work for the Nazaré Project and our Sailelectric drive.