Hello all.
What follows is what we working at social services used to call a "shit sandwich."
It was what we used to do if we had to tell somebody something that they didn't necessarily want to hear. Tell them something good first, then break the bad news to them and then a bit of good news to finish on a high.
I have had a great day of walking. Because I was walking from Tintagel and the van was parked there, I got a nice early start. The weather was lovely, a bit chilly but starting to warm up; hardly any wind and a relatively short walk of 9 miles ahead of me. Along the walk I have seen some great views and some spectacular climbs and descents which I can take in my stride now with a degree of ease. The bandage that I put on the blister my foot had done the trick and I had barely any pain at all. I met up with three people on the walk, so I had some company too. First I met up with Ian who is walking on his own and carrying everything he needs. I picked up his pack to see how heavy it is and I do not envy him at all. Later I saw Jan and Andy who were a little behind me so I stopped to wait for them. I have enjoyed their company since we first met on a rainy day not far from the beginning of this whole adventure. Since then we have rested together, had lunch, chatted, walked together and on one occasion I had dinner with them when Jennie was with me for a few days. They are lovely people and I will miss seeing them when they stop walking the coast path after tomorrow. Have a safe journey back to Cumbria.
Soon after walking out of Tintagel I found a poster which was fixed to a beautiful Cornish slate wall in a lovely spot close to the cliff edge. I read it then walked on a bit, thinking of the young man Finn. It clearly affected me, so I stopped and walked back and took a photograph of the poster. At the time I had no idea what I would do with such a sad picture.
As my mind wandered around the thoughts about Finn. I reminisced about something that happened to me way back when I was a young lad.
When I was sixteen, I left the safety and security of my family and home town and joined the merchant navy. When I see 16 year olds today it makes me realise just how young and vulnerable I was. After just 16 weeks of training I found myself on my first ship. The ship was in Rotterdam harbour and I had to fly out to join it. What I discovered when I eventually found the Andoni Palm was a scruffy cargo ship where I was one of just three English speakers. It was a very difficult time and I had many experiences which were scary during the three months that I was on board. I was badly in need of a friend. The Andoni Palm made me grow up faster than I wanted to and I was relieved to disembark at the first opportunity.
My second ship was the RFA Regent which was a large support ship which followed the Royal Navy ships around keeping them supplied with all that they needed. Once again it was a scary place, but this time I had a friend.
George Hurst was a Scottish chap who was about 3 or 4 years older than me and he took me under his wing. With his extra few years of experience he was able to advise me against the pitfalls that were around many corners. Most evenings we would meet up in the bar and often I would end up in his cabin where we listened to each other's music choices on tape. I introduced him to Frank Zappa and he played The Moody Blues and Chicago to me. I still listen to the few Chicago albums that I consequently bought and sometimes they remind me of George. George was a good friend and for the 4 or so months that I knew him he helped me to grow up safely.
Many years later, when I was about 30, I decided to write to George to thank him for his support at an important time in my life. I wrote a letter and sent it to him. The address was George Hurst, Ship unknown, care of the Flying Angel Society. The Flying Angel Society is a club/union which keeps track of British seamen around the world. Then I put the letter out of my mind thinking that it was unlikely that anything would come of it.
About six months later I received a letter from Mr and Mrs Hurst from somewhere in Scotland (I have forgotten where). They told me that they had not seen their son George since he had fallen out with them when he was 16 years old. He walked out of their life and they had no idea where he was. The reason that they received my letter was because the Flying Angel Society had not been able to track George down but had their details as next of kin. They were desperate that I would be able to give them information about their son.
I wrote back saying that I was unable to help them in their search. But I was also able to tell them how much George had helped and supported me and what a thoroughly decent young man he was.
That was the last I heard from them and I can add nothing to the story.
Seeing the poster of Finn today had made a strong impression on me. I have not always been great at staying in touch with those who are important to me and those that I am important to.
It is not for me to suggest anything, but the world could be a happier and safer place if we stayed in touch a bit more.
What follows is what we working at social services used to call a "shit sandwich."
It was what we used to do if we had to tell somebody something that they didn't necessarily want to hear. Tell them something good first, then break the bad news to them and then a bit of good news to finish on a high.
I have had a great day of walking. Because I was walking from Tintagel and the van was parked there, I got a nice early start. The weather was lovely, a bit chilly but starting to warm up; hardly any wind and a relatively short walk of 9 miles ahead of me. Along the walk I have seen some great views and some spectacular climbs and descents which I can take in my stride now with a degree of ease. The bandage that I put on the blister my foot had done the trick and I had barely any pain at all. I met up with three people on the walk, so I had some company too. First I met up with Ian who is walking on his own and carrying everything he needs. I picked up his pack to see how heavy it is and I do not envy him at all. Later I saw Jan and Andy who were a little behind me so I stopped to wait for them. I have enjoyed their company since we first met on a rainy day not far from the beginning of this whole adventure. Since then we have rested together, had lunch, chatted, walked together and on one occasion I had dinner with them when Jennie was with me for a few days. They are lovely people and I will miss seeing them when they stop walking the coast path after tomorrow. Have a safe journey back to Cumbria.
_______________________________________________
As my mind wandered around the thoughts about Finn. I reminisced about something that happened to me way back when I was a young lad.
When I was sixteen, I left the safety and security of my family and home town and joined the merchant navy. When I see 16 year olds today it makes me realise just how young and vulnerable I was. After just 16 weeks of training I found myself on my first ship. The ship was in Rotterdam harbour and I had to fly out to join it. What I discovered when I eventually found the Andoni Palm was a scruffy cargo ship where I was one of just three English speakers. It was a very difficult time and I had many experiences which were scary during the three months that I was on board. I was badly in need of a friend. The Andoni Palm made me grow up faster than I wanted to and I was relieved to disembark at the first opportunity.
My second ship was the RFA Regent which was a large support ship which followed the Royal Navy ships around keeping them supplied with all that they needed. Once again it was a scary place, but this time I had a friend.
George Hurst was a Scottish chap who was about 3 or 4 years older than me and he took me under his wing. With his extra few years of experience he was able to advise me against the pitfalls that were around many corners. Most evenings we would meet up in the bar and often I would end up in his cabin where we listened to each other's music choices on tape. I introduced him to Frank Zappa and he played The Moody Blues and Chicago to me. I still listen to the few Chicago albums that I consequently bought and sometimes they remind me of George. George was a good friend and for the 4 or so months that I knew him he helped me to grow up safely.
Many years later, when I was about 30, I decided to write to George to thank him for his support at an important time in my life. I wrote a letter and sent it to him. The address was George Hurst, Ship unknown, care of the Flying Angel Society. The Flying Angel Society is a club/union which keeps track of British seamen around the world. Then I put the letter out of my mind thinking that it was unlikely that anything would come of it.
About six months later I received a letter from Mr and Mrs Hurst from somewhere in Scotland (I have forgotten where). They told me that they had not seen their son George since he had fallen out with them when he was 16 years old. He walked out of their life and they had no idea where he was. The reason that they received my letter was because the Flying Angel Society had not been able to track George down but had their details as next of kin. They were desperate that I would be able to give them information about their son.
I wrote back saying that I was unable to help them in their search. But I was also able to tell them how much George had helped and supported me and what a thoroughly decent young man he was.
That was the last I heard from them and I can add nothing to the story.
Seeing the poster of Finn today had made a strong impression on me. I have not always been great at staying in touch with those who are important to me and those that I am important to.
It is not for me to suggest anything, but the world could be a happier and safer place if we stayed in touch a bit more.
________________________________
My lips have been pretty sore these last few days, so I called into a shop today and bought a lip-salve. I bought a plain one with aloe vera additives.
When I was working for social services I was visiting a foster placement of a young lad who was on my caseload. As I drove to the house - a bit late as usual - I realised that my lips were extremely dry and needed sorting out. I stopped the car at a few shops and ran into a newsagent.
"Can I have a lip salve please".
"Is this one ok?" said the young man behind the counter.
"I'm sure it's fine. Thanks."
I drove on, applying the salve as I went. I then found the house and rang the doorbell.
The foster carer told me that my lad was not in. I still had to do an inspection and fill in some forms and stuff. She made me a coffee and I did what I was paid for then left.
When I got back to the car I looked in the rear view mirror to discover that I was, in effect, wearing pink lipstick. (It was a strawberry lip salve). But this lipstick looked like it had been put on by a 5 year old who had found a lipstick for the first time and smeared it all around the mouth.
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Take it easy.
Rob.
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