THE HONKEYMOON CAFE

The price of not being ordinary. Having just returned home after his funeral I feel at last I am free to tell the story of Miles Dunmore. It may never see the light of day but somewhere it will reside until someone needs to find it.  It was Miles that I first met being pursued by four girls in a sports car. I had just seen a figure disappear into some bushes when they stopped to ask me had I seen anyone answering his  description. Obviously outnumbered I was bound to be on his side and told them I thought I had seen their quarry disappearing down to the right, at a fork in the road just ahead. With much excitement the hunting party sped off in that direction leaving me in a cloud of dust out of which sheepishly the fugitive re-appeared. ‘Gosh, Thanks awfully. My name’s Dunmore, Miles Dunmore.’ He held out his hand which I shook then introduced myself while he looked nervously about for fear his pursuers might return. ‘Your quite lucky to have girls chasing you,’...

Is it yacht 'Clarissa' that has a mind of her own? It was to be the maiden voyage. The four of us, me, David and his Wife Donna who had their own boat, and John a relative novice. The tide would be turning in our favour at about 0530 hours, so we had agreed to be under way by five to catch the turning tide in the Solent a half hour’s motor down Southampton Water. We had met up the night before on ‘Clarissa’ and unusually had turned in about ten for an early start.  Clarissa was a Contessa 32, a fine sleek craft and I was the proud new owner. I thought I had seen the last of yachts but when a friend mentioned a Rose Waterson who’s husband had just died unexpectedly leaving his estate in a mess and a boat she didn’t know what to do with, my curiosity was ignited. When I found out it was a Contessa my fate was sealed. The boat is a classic, overbuilt GRP hull with varnished wooden topsides and teak side decks. It was the perfect compromise between a traditional wooden sai...