Embarrassment

Sometimes the least embarrassing path can result in the most embarrassment.

A good few years ago, we could often be found on our boat, floating in some quiet anchorage in company with a number of our friends. Often we'd get together on one of our boats partaking in substantial amounts of conviviality long into the night.

Our boats were small, but most had the conveniences of home, and given the amount of conviviality going on some nights, conveniences were convenient indeed. Except that is, on the boat belonging to one of our number where the said convenience was located in the open cabin, right next to the kitchen sink.

The owners of the boat thoughtfully provided a small canvas bag that one could put over one's head to provide a little privacy if one needed to avail oneself of the facility.

One evening, one of the young ladies in our throng, perhaps just into her teens at the time, failed completely in her efforts to persuade us to leave the cabin, while she went about her ablutions. Her father gave her some fairly detailed instructions as to the correct use of the stern rail (or pushpit as it's known) for her purposes, and with some trepidation she retired into the darkness to go about her task, returning it should be said, with a certain glow of accomplishment.

The glow was only to last until the first of we guests began to leave, stepping into the darkness into a rather slippery spot in their dinghy. In the still of the night, it appears that the tenders had taken it on themselves to huddle together hard against the stern of the boat.

I am pleased to note however, from the above photograph no such fate awaits our Grandboy! There'll be none of this "going over the stern" nonsense for him.

He'll take the bag over the head every time.