| donald and damien |
|
Nineteen year old Damien is a mad-keen, cool-dude, ‘up for it’ angler, who won’t miss any opportunity to go fishing. He has an aged uncle, an angler of some renown and a staunch traditionalist, Donald Effingham-Mudde, who spent his earlier years in service to the Viceroy of India. His family jokingly refer to him as WIMDOC, which is an acronym for the phase he uses to start just about every conversation (“Well, in my day, of course….”). The old boy has come to stay with Damien’s parents for an extended visit, giving the pair the opportunity to go fishing together. Donald’s fishing references are impeccable as, according to him, he taught the Taylor Brothers all they know. However, both participants view the opportunity from slightly differing perspectives. Damien really doesn’t want to be landed with babysitting some doddering old fart, whilst Donald sees this as a perfect opportunity to show this young pup how to do things properly. They are bound to get on famously – aren’t they? |
Jolly Boating Weather – Part 2(Part 1)All too soon the fateful day of the holiday arrived, and the family set off to the boatyard. Damien insisted that he had no room at all in his car, what with it being full of tackle, so he was off with Susan, and Donald would have to travel with his parents. Not having the old git in the car meant that he didn’t have to stop at least three times on the way for ‘comfort breaks’ or turn back at least once because the old boy thought he had forgotten something, which he hadn’t, or having to drive along with all the windows down in case Donald let one go. Arriving at the boatyard, Damien was quick to hunt down their allotted boat and bag the best cabin he could for him and Susan. The craft they were shown wasn’t too bad, not the biggest in the yard, but not the smallest either, and the nice double berth up in the bow would do them a treat. The boatyard owner was keen to show Damien all the controls and instructions, but he was waved away with his own instruction to ‘tell that lot to someone who cares’ as he pulled up a chair on the stern and cracked open a couple of cans. Sometime later, Damien’s parents arrived in the boatyard, looking a little flustered and green around the gills, with Donald sat in the back wearing a sailor’s cap, and with all the car windows wide open. Damien chuckled to himself when he saw that, in fact it put him in such a good mood that he even helped to unload the car. The boatyard owner came back to explain where everything was and how it all works, and it was then that Damien found out that the nice double cabin was for his parents, the tiny single cabin next to the equally diminutive bathroom was for Susan, and that he and Donald would be sleeping on the two berths in the ‘Saloon’ area. Damien was more than miffed that his sleeping arrangements had been altered, particularly as it appears he had to swap partners, so his plans for a spot of ‘nauticals’ with Susan was now well and truly scuppered. And he was doubly confused, as he looked around and there was nothing but a table and some padded benches in the ‘Saloon’ The boatyard owner showed them how to convert the bench into a form of shelf, which was at least half as wide as a single bed. Donald said it wouldn’t matter to him as he could sleep on a washing line, just like they used to on the troop ships. Damien was about to suggest that the reason he slept so well was down to the fact that he had probably gassed himself by letting one rip, but realising he would be sharing a confined space with the old git, he decided it was best to keep quiet on the subject. It didn’t get any better, because Donald seemed really pleased they would be sharing a cabin, as he put it. “Just like me prep school days, laddie. We can sit up late, have a midnight feast if we want, read comics by torchlight under the bedclothes, tell stories….” “Or we can just drink ourselves into oblivion every night” interrupted Damien, who really didn’t like where this was going. “That too, laddie, I’ve bought plenty of rum along for the trip,” said Donald. He seemed to be looking forward to the trip like some big kid, Damien was just looking forward to it all being over. They set off the next day, with it being an English summer, the heavens opened and the rain hammered down. Damien took a turn at the wheel and managed to hit both banks of the river in the space of fifty yards. It wasn’t his fault, of course. Poor visibility, lack of steering response, no acceleration, and bugger-all brakes were blamed. Donald took the helm and proceeded to steer a perfectly straight course. “All to do with touch, laddie. Women and boats, they’re all respond the same. You need to be firm and gentle and they’ll come round.” Donald was at the helm and in his element, smiling away, and puffing so hard on his pipe that anyone seeing them go past would think it was a steamship. He took great delight in doffing his captain’s cap to all the ladies he passed, and then turning to wink at Damien just to rub it in. Damien slumped down into the saloon, where his parents had a map spread out on the table. “Just working out how far we can get,” said his dad. “Oh really, and do tell, just what do we do when we get there?” said a less than interested Damien. “Turn round and go back,” came the reply. Brilliant, just bloody brilliant, thought Damien. Four days getting there, then turn round and come back past everything you’ve just seen. No television, sleeping in the same room as the snoring old fart monster, it can’t get any worse. But then it did, as his mum opened one of the lockers and pulled out something that was guaranteed to strike terror into any teenager. A large cardboard box with a picture of a inanely grinning family who looked like they were all on happy pills and the dreaded words ‘Games Compendium’ on the lid. Oh, the days were just going to fly by……..
|
