Figjam Bob – Now I haven’t seen him for a while but coincidence is ironic, especially on an epic sea adventure.
I last saw Figjam Bob in the ‘Roachie Café’, in Palma de Mallorca, maybe 4 years ago now. I say ‘saw’ but as will all good figjams, we mean ‘heard. If you can imagine a busy, male dominated spanish Café full of dock workers at the 10am morning break – the noise is horrendous, metal legged chairs scraping across hard tile floors, a dozen dockers all shouting at each other but still sounding just like Speedy Gonzales. Suddenly, as if by magic, the shop keeper appears and it’s Figjam Bob.
At first, I hear him, that unmistakable voice raising above the rest of the café. He’s on the other side of the room too, propping up the bar with his next, so far unsuspecting victim, Figjam is in full flow, wanking on about how good he is, loud enough for all to hear.
FIGJAM – Fuck I’m Good – Just Ask Me !!!
On a lighter note, we crossed the equator yesterday. For those of you that have never done it (and I think that will be a lot of you) I have now officially been closer to the sun than you !!! Naturally, it was as disappointing as a bowl of bran without any fruit in it. There wasn’t a painted line on the ocean surface, no signage suggesting 1mile to the equator and to top it all off, no fireworks as we crossed. On the other side of the equator, there was much more of the same – blue sea water. I quickly made an experiment, the plug hole experiment. For years, I had been lead to believe that in the southern hemisphere, the water drains anti clockwise into your plug hole. I had even recently seen a TV programme on it.
Lexa had warned me however – that this was nothing more than an old wives tale – she was spot on and she isn’t even an old wife! So all in all, my quest to sail in the southern hemisphere has been a flat out disappointment.
I do however, have several T shirts waiting for dispatch to the Magnificent 7 when I finally get home. Verity Smith – I am still waiting for your address.