Sincere apologies to a deceased mother who took me as a very little lad out to observe VE Day, the original one. The wonderful lady, Moya Jane, is well remembered.
I wanted to be there in the same place on the docks on this year's VE Day, an almost unbelievable 76 years later.
But I confess this singlehanded circumnavigator let landlubber weather - Southampton’s miserable downpours this week - limit the tribute.
If there might possibly be a hereafter, I’ll apologise in person, er ‘in angel’ – accepting of course that only heavenly costumery will be my Mum’s.
Memory doesn’t provide details of how we travelled to Southampton Docks from our thoroughly bombed neighbourhood of Bitterne Park, on the River Itchen, on Tuesday, 8 May, 1945.
However, there we were on the docks, surrounded by sea and a traditionally clouded sky, and a ship or two.
‘The war is over,’ she said as she hugged me, repeating the message excitedly as if the mantra might ensure it would remain true.
It’s interesting to muse for a moment on the notion that my ambition to sail alone around the world via Cape Horn might have come from that significant occasion.
Well, plans of mice and men, as the saying goes, and my intention to be there on the self-same seafront for this year’s VE Day was missed thanks to the weather.
Ironic or shameful
And it’s almost ironic or shameful that this ocean navigator gave up today’s belated journey again due to rain.
A strong Tut tut to me. Sorry, to my Mum.
But to David Lk, ZS, and KK, and many more, thanks enormously for prompting for the return of the Sailing to Purgatory blogs. A memory troubled more than somewhat by Boris's crazy lockdown is at least attempting to return to work.
Thanks very much for visiting the mostly Tuesday and Thursday blogs for my adventure writing. The blogs (as they call 'em) are introduced each time on Facebook Facebook dot com/Sailingtopurgatory,