Tag Archives: italian

Bermuda Triangle

Look at it from my angle

So here we are, an emergency divert en-route to the Açores to off load a sick Captain to the authorities in Bermuda for some urgent medical attention.

Turns out, he has a gall stone around one inch across.  That’s a big stone by anyones standard, even compared to a testicle, it’s not a bad size – in fact, the Captain continually talks about wanking and cock sucking so maybe it is a testicle previously swallowed and not ingested fully.

I have to confess though, initially I thought he was just being a drama queen – you know what these Italians are like.  Every time we tried to sail, something broke and after two days I just assumed his illness was feigned so that he didn’t have to show his face at the helm again and the embarrassment of fucking shit up every watch.

Even the phone support never picked up on the possibility.  It was only the experience of the designated person ashore (That’s DPA in ship speak) that suggested we turn and head for Bermuda.  I make light of it, but the turn for Bermuda has now cost us 7 days.  At the point of turn, we were 3 days away from Bermuda and 5 days away from the Açores but Bermuda was West, the Açores East and we wanted to be heading East – so it was 3 days in the opposite direction.  Imagine that – a 7 day diversion !  Next time you hit the M25 and have a 5 mile diversion, think yourself lucky.

There was an Ambulance waiting on the dock that whisked him off to the hozzie.  Later that night, the Mate started getting ‘whatsapp’ messages from an old crew member asking what was happening.  We were both confused, how could this person know?  The program of this boat means it slips silently in and out of Port, keeping a low, inconspicuous profile, never sounding the horn without good reason, never playing loud music or having big parties – but the outside world knew. Only the crew were aware of the situation, and all of them would respect their confidentiality agreement for sure.

Except the Italian Captain of course – the half wit had decided to post his exploits on Facebook even before his anaesthetic had worn off.  I am left wondering what the management people might make of this – my suspicion is they will react swiftly to his breach of contract.

It is kind of strange – the Captain previously declared that he is no ‘Schettino’ – personally I think he is, in fact I think all Italians are.  A little too crazy, a little too blasé with other people’s lives – fashion first, formalities a few days after.


Either way up, looks like an epic, wet, windy and cold sail to Faial – good job I packed my thermals



Young Teen Clunge

selling out?   Me ?  Never, but young teen clunge does attract plenty of traffic to my page, as does ‘Scandinavian beauties’ so lets see what happens in the next couple of days.

I just had a historical read of an old posting from 2008 about Facebook.  Funny how time passes but even back then in 2008 I was ranting about closing the account.  Glad I did too.

I would like to mention the Cooper clan again.  I know the girls are regular readers but now I am proud to announce the parents are also reading too – welcome Mon and John although I wonder if it is just Mr. C that pops in to see whats going on.  Talking of subscriptions, whatever happened to Thornham in Oz and Timothy in S.A. ? Are you ladies still reading?  Better still, closer to home, McCoy (I forget your wedded name).

Now firmly planted in Genoa, I enrolled in Italian language lessons starting next week.  I met the teacher last night, she has a huge pair of tits, unfortunately for her, they are already down by her belly button and I doubt she is 40.  More intriguing than the southerly chest was the gruff, beyond husky voice.  Kind of left me wondering if those huge swinging orbs had more hair on them than my chest but then that wouldn’t be hard now would it? I wonder if she has ever stepped on one of her nipples ?  So my lessons start on Monday and I have already started practising the hand gestures and over pronunciation of the few words of Italian that I already know. Expect me to be more dramatic next time you see me and a less skillful driver – unless of course I am driving a boat near to a small Italian island.

I also contacted the dive school in Rugby about finally taking my instructor exams.  They asked if I had completed the dry suit specialist course as the water at Stoney Cove in February would be around 4ºC.  I did explain that I could always go to the Caribbean and do it there.  Who on earth wants to go diving in 4º water when I am used to mid to late 20’s?

I do want to tempt fate for a moment here – all the ‘negativos’ that talk about how unreliable and crap Range Rovers are – I love my car.  We have now covered 18,000kms without fault.  Of course I lie there, I had to change a side light bulb before leaving Brussels – I am not really counting that in the J.D. Powers customer satisfaction survey.  It is especially lush when it comes to triggering speed cameras, either I am going too fast or the cameras also like the look of the car and want pictures.  A camera in Switzerland recently took a photo of me from the front and the rear – that was very confusing for a moment until I realised what had happened.

Tomorrow, I am hitting the hills of Genoa on my bike.  I have found nothing on line about specific tracks to ride so have had a look at maps and will head out with no particular intention and see what mischief I can get up to.  For those with Runkeeper, be sure to take  look.


Until then – I am available for abuse exclusively on my UK phone number




Road Trippin

That was a tough weekend. A 5k run on saturday morning followed by a 20 something k ride around Cannock Chase on sunday, I was completely worn out.  Worst of all, I posted my slowest 5k time on saturday and had a few moments on sunday where I couldn’t be arsed to keep ahead of poopie pants and steve-o. I think at 44, I am now officially getting old.

I do have some advice for you though.  When road tripping through Belgium and Luxemburg, don’t throw your litter out of the car window.  France is the next country you will pass though – throw it out there, they thoroughly deserve it !

I still got to thinking about the people of Luxemburg and what they are collectively called but it escapes me. Italy is full of Italians, The good people of Germany are Germans, Ireland Irish, Americans a pain in the arse etc etc but what about Luxemburg?  I really need to know, if you can help in any way – please do.

My new job started today, I arrived in Genoa, Italy at 09:30 this morning in the most torrential thunder storm I have seen in ages, even the Italians were slowing down in their cars because of poor visibility.  After a monster 12 hour + drive down from Burssels, I am now completely shattered.  Had a little walk around the old docks this evening to see what has changed since the last time I was here – not much if I am honest.  I was impressed with one of the local sculptures though, it looks like a colaboration of body parts form several of the Saw movies all stitched together in the wrong order.

I also managed to kurb one of my wheels in the downpour, happy now that I never had them painted when I bought it.

thats enough for now – more exploring tomorrow




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