How things really are

by Tony Headley

 

Some Wyverns are, by nature, philosophers. This is a philosophical essay.


Most people believe, or at any rate, act as if the world is basically a rational place. True, the pattern of events is so complex that their precise juxtaposition is associated with a large element of what is called chance, but the general picture of the essential reasonableness of things is undamaged. The crew of Shruff surely shared such views when they set out from Stokesby to Berney on a Thursday afternoon towards the end of August.

A very fast sail was made in a fresh south wester which dropped somewhat in the last few reaches before the marina. Some time was employed sailing up and down to wait for slack, and some was lost in a tedious tack just before the old fixed bridge reach. Thereafter the quanting was straightforward on a slack tide until Vauxhall bridge was reached. Here an astonishing transformation took place. The enclosed waters of the yacht station had treacherously concealed a rising wind which was now blowing with great force into Bure Mouth. To quant to the dolphins was out of the question. Shruff swung to the coal wharf side, hung on to a moored cruiser and organised a long line on the bows. Miles walked the line through the wastes under Vauxhall bridge in the teeth of roaring wind and black, angry waters. Meanwhile Shruff hung fast until a good haul became possible from the higher and firmer grounds of the coal wharf.

Miles climbed the concrete steps from the mess under Vauxhall bridge to the high wharf. Along with Peter and crew he was absorbed with solving the immediate problem of getting Shruff to a position where sails could be raised and the boat tacked out of Bure Mouth. He would have noted that the wind was dead ahead and very strong; that Breydon bridge was overdue to open; and that other yachts in the fleet were already sailing fast out into the Yare. He would also have noted the saving presence of a ladder in the quay wall, well towards the Yare end of the wharf, which would solve the problem of getting under sail. So the immediate problem was to get Shruff against the gale along the quay to the ladder. Well, towing should certainly be possible with two strong men. He mounted the final step. It was then that he encountered the llama.

May I remind you that a llama is an animal like a small camel native to South America. Now it is safe to venture that Einstein himself, brilliantly calculating the array of problems facing Shruff, could never have foreseen the emergency . . . or more precisely . . . the instant formation, like a genie from a bottle, of this new and wholly bizarre hazard. Miles made, as it were, an immediate crash change of mental gear. He vaguely recollected that the llama was inclined to be an aggressive creature with a revolting capacity for projecting spittle at its enemies. But there was no alternative save to press on. He decided to seize the initiative. Maybe the llama, far from its hot and luscious Peruvian homeland, was pre-occupied bemoaning its captivity on a cold and barren shore. It was surely astonished that any other creature should be willing, nay, anxious to contest such wasted ground. In any event, it decided to allow Shruff to proceed unhindered.

So you still believe the world's a rational place? You will confidently go on making your plans safe in the feeling that all contingencies have been taken into account? You are certain there are no llamas in your future? Or, rather, are you starting, perhaps, to share my view of how things really are?

Anyway, the next time you find yourself sailing into Bure Mouth against an ebbing tide, wondering how on earth you are going to tie up safely somewhere, with your last desperate bid why not order,

'Quick! . . . Get a line on that llama!'

AH
1988

Hornet approaching the Coal Wharf at Bure Mouth.