Monthly Archives: July 2010

Let us Blog !

Yesterday was something of a desperate day for me.  After my deep wreck dive in the morning my 700 dollar dive computer shat itself then in the afternoon to add insult to injury, my two dutch students couldn’t make it underwater to try their scuba.  Such was my dismay at the latter that i offered my time free again this afternoon to correct this.  I am now very pleased to say that all is well.  the two dutch students have succeeded in their first dive, albeit very shallow, and my dive computer had enough function back today to use it again.  I am hoping the computer remains good as i didn’t keep the original receipt, probably a good thing as i bought it in St Maarten so it would cost as much to send it back for repair – either way, i cannot be without it during august.
The Groms have now left and are safe and secure in the asylum called England.  Colin managed to complete his PADI open water diver, Dean, due to being a complete faggot, got sick and couldn’t finish his but did manage enough to get his scuba diver certificate so all in all, not a bad result.
I have been working with the dive school to help pay for dean and colin’s courses.  Most of my work has been with kids in the pool, showing them how to use scuba gear for a quick swim around the pool and occasionally managing to convince the parents that the kids are good enough to go to the ocean and try some more.
But that was yesterday now – it has taken me overnight to complete this entry.
I want to tell you about the amazing sunset session i just scored at ingrina.  South coast swell is always welcome.  I tried ingrina as the tide was dropping but i was too early.  Mareta was full of groms and Martinhal just wasn’t having it.  So i turned back to ingrina, the beach was empty, the sun low in the sky.  I watched the sets coming in and initially wasnt impressed.  I boosted my PMA and suited up.  I can now get the e-bomb on unaided.  from this point forward it will be referred to as the spak vest, purely and simply due to the shapes i have to pull to get the damn thing on and off again.  So , with the spak vest on, i waxed up and went out – the whole fecking beach to myself.  It was heaven.  I was soon joined by two spanish dudes but they were hanging too far out on short boards to bother me or catch a decent ride.
But enough said, i had some good rides, tried some new footwork (thanks to scratching the surface) and impressed myself with my learning abilities whilst in my forties.
Completely knackered, i got out and even managed to get out of the spak vest without assistance – damn those trendy surfers – whatever happened to a straight forward old fashioned wet suit ? put the stereo on while i boarded up and chose a very cool album – Space, Ibiza 2009. perfect sunset tunes, all i was missing was a cold one but still, it was one of those blissed out moments that we look for all of our lives.  when you work arm deep in human shit, or deal with bullshit beaurocracy (did i spell that right? i can’t be arsed to check it).  You work so hard for it, i take it whenever i can – thank you very much!!!
A perfect end to my first leg of summer
tomorrow i have to be up at 3am – off to Brussels for a week to see the lucious Lana.  Its been a month now and i am more than happy to say that a visit is well over due. I pity the fool that has to sit next to me on the aeroplane – the camerá have turned off my water by mistake so i wont be able to shower in the morning, infact i might just stay awake!!
More Belgian beer incoming! A belgian once told me a joke – i appologise for the language now!
whats the connection between english beer and making love in a canoe??
It’s fucking close to water !!!
Those fools at microsoft decided to fix something that wasn’t broken – they removed the hit counter! I am sure we have now surpassed the 30,000 mark and we also celebrated our 5th birthday last month here on ‘The November Archives’.
I want to finish by saying hello to Lexa & Max (alphabetical order) neither of whom i have heard from in a long long time.
keep blogging and choose life !

When mum says no – ask Granma

Been a long time again – i have to admit to being a bit slack of late.  Not leaving as much time as i should for blogging.  So let me begin my first blog of the summer.
I have written before about chapters closing and opening in the journey of life.  Leaving England last week was a very final and definate closing of one huge chapter in mine and many other peoples lives.  After a massive innings of almost 92 years, my Granma died and was burried in the morning of the same day i left england.  Of course, my departure was postponed until after the service and wake were complete, for the one good reason that i wanted to be there.
It is important to remember that it was death that gave me the urge and push to move on from england and seek adventure in my life.  Being of an era when people only travelled between cities or towns, I am not sure if my Granma would have understood why i wanted to seek new adventures in different countries or continents.  I have no doubt she would have grumbled about it – not silently, that wasn’t her style – she would have been vocal and open about it.  I am sure she cursed me for my sense of adventure because she didn’t understand it but also because she fully understood that we would inevitably see less of each other and that ultimately was sad.
Should we stifle our own ambitions for the pleasure of others ? 
As a kid, i spent a lot of time at East Street.  I was always in awe at christmas time of the amount of strings on the wall above the sofa with christmas cards on them.  It was a standard that all other walls were judged on.  Who had more than her ?  no-one !  I also remember discussions in recent years when she would comment on how each year, they were getting less and less.  Not because people were no longer friends but simply because they were dieing off. Fully aware of the cycle of life, she knew her time would eventually come and certainly had no fear of it.  I am not sure if i am the only one who had such frank discussions with her about death but the ease of conversation was always welcoming.  This ease stretched to the ability to ask for a photo of her on her wedding day with my grandad.  ‘Could i have it when she was dead?’ was my simple question.  Of course she wanted me to take it there and then but i refused, i didnt want to take it from her.  I told her i would find it when she was gone.
It turned up in the church of all places – displayed on a table on the other side of the coffin, inevitably bringing a stream of tears to my eyes.  It seems the photo found me and now it travels with me.
War time stories mingled with working boat stories as we chewed on ‘rock cakes’ or choked on pickled onions and sterilised milk. Smoking my first fag, muttering my first swear words, drinking my first whiskey pep.  It all happened at East Street, dragged up the road by that mental dog Cindy, listening to steam trains on the grammaphone, scratching cigarette scratch cards to try and win money, sneaking around ‘Winkles Yard’ at the end of the street, knocking on windows at the flats and trying to run back to the cover of the garden before being seen ( ok – this may just have only been me but i am sure she knew what i was doing).  Morris engines caravan rallies, Big George and Stan in the tug-o-war, egg catching competitions, watching TV with the volume far too high.
It was of course very distressing to see her the night before she died, to see such a fragile person, fighting with every breath but i am sure, waiting for her fight to end.  I am thankful though, that i was lucky enough to have seen that smile once more.  To have been in England at that time was, as far as i am aware, one of my better moments of good luck with timing.
So the endless cycle of life continues, no-one is immune, no-one is invincible, no-one immortal.

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