Thursday, 3 October 2013

Mud, Mud, (Not) Glorious Mud...

'Bye Darling. Don't wait up for me', I said to Jane, as I was on my way out to meet Jerry on the boat at seven o'clock this evening. She was 'Erindoors, as I was preparing to become 'Imoutdoors - and go off to discuss how to develop my mad regular radio programme idea that could be broadcast from the boat every Friday evening. Or any evening they'll have me, to be frank.

Jerry is Top Dog at Wunnerful Wadio Wivenhoe and it is he who helped me to put on The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station last year. Oh what fun that was.

We had an appointment to work out what equipment I will need so that I can invite local musicians and friends to take part in my "Riverside Sessions" on the back of the boat. It will be great, but I really need Jerry's input to help me pull this off - 'cos (like normal) I don't really know what I'm doing.

I got there a few minutes earlier than Jerry, and got the canopy open, the lights on and the whisky in the jars. Soon I heard his footsteps climbing onto the fore-deck. Listen to me being all boat-speak.

'Ey, Ey, Cap'n', he called out. I leaned out to welcome him aboard.

Then one second he was there, clasping his own bottle of whisky. The next he wasn't - as he slipped and fell into the deepest of mud. And not a drop of alcohol had yet passed our lips.

But he held on to, and saved, the bottle. Well done Sir.

The evening was aborted, and I drove Jerry home. On my way back I reflected on an old idea I had to build a wide walk-way side-deck.

Maybe it's time to re-draw the plans.

1 comment:

  1. At least my skin is now silky smooth after the Mud Bath

    ReplyDelete