23rd September 11 - Log or no log?

Apologies dear reader for the hiatus in this log.

As the foul and dangerous squalls of the season reach across the western ocean to our home port, and after an unexpectedly and extraordinarily demanding past six months, the one member of the crew who is able to write lucidly and perform the duty of our scribe has exhausted his wit and the ink for his quill.

Once both are suitably restored we hope that entries for those significant parts of our voyage to have taken place between the last entry and now will be added in his usual unique and inimitable style. Until such time, we remember with tenderness the various wenches (and with respect, the gentlemen) who we have met at The Barnfield Theatre, Exeter (with Kimber's Men); The Corn Exchange, Exeter (with The Black Umfolosi 5); The Society of Mary & Martha, Sheldon; The Village Hall, Bratton Clovelly; The Blackmore Theatre, Exmouth (with Jim Mageean); The Pavilion, Exmouth; Exeter Cathedral; Exmouth Quayside; Budleigh Salterton Public Hall; the Village Hall, Poltimore.

May all who have seen and heard us during these runs ashore have memories as fond as ours!

15th September 11 - A Show of Bravado

 

15th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
In Port – Around Britain In Easy Stages
Weather:- Glorious
Wind:- Always on the bow.
 
As mentioned before our brave lads had another chance to show off in front of what was hoped to be the largest crowd Exmouth’s strand had ever seen.
 
Rumours that a bunch of maniacal velocipedists would be breaking all safety laws along the seafront had caught the attention of a vast multitude of sightseers. The crowds manning the narrow yet strangely unfurnished, our bosun had a hand in agreeing to the desecration of Mr Belisha’s erections, esplanade were in places ten deep. A jester from the big city of Exeter had been employed with the strict instructions to cause as much havoc as possible in the run up to the finale when the owner of the Cavendish Hotel was expected to cross the final straits a little ahead of the others. This proved not to be the case as a returning deportee managed to spring ahead taking the final honours but steadfastly refusing to return the loaf of bread which had been involved in the instigation of his recent travels.
 
And it was to this crowd, or at least part of it, that our lads hoped to keep off the streets that very evening.
 
But now the pressure was on. A famous ensemble and masters of the folk art had arranged to entertain the masses. Their fame had preceded them and the halls of the mighty were filled to seated capacity by those wishing to hear the crème de la crème.
 
And this they certainly got. But not before a strangely quiet and thoughtful crew from the Malarkey had given what turned out to be their best effort thus far. Harmonious outpourings, timings as tight as Wayne’s wallet, humour as bright as as as erm , and to the accompanied stamping and cheering of those present the lads finally emerged into those sunlit uplands with justifiable pride.
 

14th September 11 - Final Walk After Sunset

 

14th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
In Port – Final Walk After Sunset
Weather:- As “Wood’s” Would Have Expected
Wind:- Hot & Blustery
 
With the Malarkey back in port for a short two day break the lads decided not to let the gains of the past months go to waste. As fit as, although not as slim as, a match they sallied forth to entertain those rotund ruffians, or rough rotundians, at their annual honouring of all things Empirical.
 
Bringing a slightly less highbrow start to proceedings and managing to maintain these standards throughout the buoys gave good voice and were warmly greeted by the assembled masses.
 
Two short spurts of some of the best utterances to be heard this side of the Tamar, as one travels from east to west, were interspersed with a more classical burst of creativity from those sporting more sombre attire and wielding large weapons of instrumentation.
 
And as the last strains of the concerted concert emanated from the high lands conveniently staged before the audience, our brave lads could be seen waving various signals with their heads just above the parapet.
 

9th September 11 - Mesozoic Mayhem

 

9th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – End Of Jurassic In Sight
Weather:- Flat Calm
Wind:- Zephyritic
 
The Anchorman having provided the crew with almost fool-proof directions, map and itinerary, saw the landing party arriving for once at the right place and at the right time! Arrangements were duly honoured and a few songs sung at one of the local hostelries, namely The Red Lion Inn which proved to be full to the point of bursting.
After their first spasm and during the break between that and their second attempt at entertaining the locals, one comely and poorly sighted blond “French Wench” saw fit to engage Abner in lengthy conversations. Thus greatly amusing those others assembled who were heard to mutter about pheromones and the lack of a certain person’s wife in the immediate vicinity. As to the outcome of this entente cordial, none are the wiser?
 
10th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – Cretaceous Ahoy
Weather:- Overcast, Precipitation en-route.
Wind:- Increasing Gale Force 8
 
At around midnight last night while still chained to his seat in the Red Lion Wayne finally decided to read the Festival programme with which he had been provided earlier that eve. This unusual attempt at literary acumen lead to the startling discovery that the information therein scheduled the Buoys as performing at an unearthly hour on that very morning. This fact had previously remained unadvertised to those whom it concerned. Unfortunately most being now abed in various lodgings around the town meant that such a gathering in the forenoon was quite impossible. In order not to disappoint too many, the Anchorman took it upon himself to advise any unwise residents of or visitors to Swanage who showed up for this performance, that in fact it would be held later that afternoon.
When the crew gathered for their first known scheduled appearance it was agreed that they would, on the morrow, force themselves from their bunks at an earlier than planned hour to bail the organisers out of a similarly large hole.
Thus to Prince Albert Gardens where a growing crowd gathered to hear what all the fuss was about. Once their appetite was sated, and after the planned procession of dancers and cloggers had sallied forth, the lads moved to the other end of the town’s foreshore to find a bandstand from which to cavort to a different audience.
The later part of the evening somewhat unsurprisingly found certain crew members back at the Red Lion with almost enough room to move an elbow or two while they sang to a bar-room from which none could escape as none could locate the door.
 
11th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – Permian Here We Come
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- Gale Force 8 Gusting Severe Gale Force 9
 
The Bandstand location of yesterday’s later performance saw the buoys re-visit it twice today once in the forenoon and once after. The initial small assemblage of local and visiting folks who were there soon had their numbers swelled as others came from all directions to find for themselves what on earth could be making that much noise. Once they found out, they apparently found the temptation to stay one that proved irresistible.
And so it was that this run ashore came to a timely end and all were able to make their way westward back to Exmouth in good time. Perhaps the most notable surprise of this day was provided by two comely young wenches who had watched the post-noon show with wide eyes and ventured the comment: “You guys are so cool!”. We understand that this is some form of compliment in modern parlance. Obviously the request for warmer garments chitty was nailed to the Captain’s cabin door that very evening.

3rd September 11 - Burnham On Where

 

3rd day of September. Year of Our Lord 2011
Run Aground – No Sea Within Sight
Weather:- Obscured
Wind:- SW5
 
Setting out from Exmouth on the evening tide the crew of the Malarkey, now partially ravaged by fever and the calls of the mainland of Europe, duly arrived on a fast ebbing tide off the coast of Somerset. Not a good thing to be doing whilst afloat, for one soon finds oneself not afloat and surrounded by a sea of mud.
 
Unfortunately the Erras had mis-read the sailing instructions and had acquired lodgings in Burnham on Crouch. This easily made mistake saw them miss the entirety of the programme as offered by the rest of the crew who had correctly divined that they be in Burnham on Sea. One does wonder sometimes. And despair!
 
After wading ashore, and consequently smelling less clean than is to be expected, our lads turned up at the Palladium as promised by Wayne who had alluded that our efforts were to be the highlight of this weekend’s “North Somerset Celebration of all Acoustic Tradition”. The gentlemen at the entrance facility soon re-directed the crew to a more ritzy venue just down the street. Luckily other residents of Exmouth soon made the buoys feel at home, as did generous helpings of Porter Stout.
 
After a sublime performance by young Mr Henry & Miss Martin and what was an enchanting opening of the venue by Ms Conley, the evening veered abruptly to the ridiculous as our lads took the limelight.
 
But merriment did indeed follow as those who had failed to vacate their places soon realised that they were in the company of greatness. The definition of “Greatness” may have become a little blurred these days as some may be said to be riding on the crest of the sea shanty wave, but even the vocal local soon was awed by what was unfolding before.
 
The efforts of our lads were said to have flowed seamlessly from one poignant moment to the next. And the bodiceless arrival of Ms Gabbi Lee did much to raise the bar over previous encounters. The future Mr “Gabi Lee” may not have been as impressed as was Mister Cleavage but we wish them both well in their future voyage together.
 
And with the blasphemies of the Headmaster of Hogwarts ringing in their ears, the local worthies retired to their camp sites in the sure knowledge that they had received a right royal education. Many were heard to say, “That taught me a lesson!”

28th August 11 - Aons A Bar

 

28th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
Shore Leave – Or Not So Shore
Weather:- Fair, Smoke on Horizon
Wind:- SW4
 
It seemed fair that soon after the first “Fiscal Service Provider” in the country had opened its doors in Exeter, a public holiday be called to celebrate the occasion. This saw the lads at a loose end this day so jolly old Wayne suggested that profit might be gained from joining the beautiful people as they gathered for merry making in a quickly drying field just to the north of Crediton.
 
Wayne soon realised that the term “Beautiful People” did not apply to him or, let’s face it, to any of our lusty crew. This did not dampen the spirits of our jolly band nor pour cold water on their efforts.
 
With what sounded like the reports of cannon echoing all around them the buoys were called forth to entertain an excited yet unsuspecting crowd. Beneath a hastily erected shelter of cloth, with depictions of a nautical nature, those gathered therein were treated to the full force of vocal talent. And when called for the young ladies of the field nearly threw themselves upon the mercies of our lads. Better that it is supposed than to be approached by our navigator hell bent on thespianism.
 
And amidst the smoke of battle, possibly not what Sir W Raleigh had intended when bringing presents home to ER I, the throng enjoyed an experience on another plane to those which were taking place all around.
 
And bye the way, Mr Minella compliments the organisers on their provision of fermented apple products.

15th August 11 - Paimpol Cinq

 

15th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Broad – Paimpol Cinq
Weather:- Mist
Wind:-  NW 2 - 3
                
Aroused from their bunks at an ungodly hour, the buoys made way for the port some distance hence and from which they would sail for home. A misty hour-long journey on the byways of northern Brittany brought them to the required dockside and after only the briefest of delays the vessel weighed anchor and the safe voyage to Plymouth and then Exmouth ensued.
 
Rumour abounds that they may be invited back across The Channel on some future occasion. This would be a pleasure for all. Vive La France!

14th August 11 - Paimpol Quatre

 

14th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Broad – Paimpol Quatre
Weather:- Fair to Midlin
Wind:-  W2
 
Once more the crew ventured down to the quayside, primarily to the so-called Pub Guiness, for an advertised performance which they gave with their usual degree of finesse. Those of the citizenry who had not stayed up too late the previous evening formed a small but growing audience as the crew’s gusto lured them from their perambulations within the vicinity. Thereafter, and while still counting the by now large quantity of coin accrued from the local populace, the lads marched forth to the other side of the harbour to revisit the good ship Vigilance where they stood in various affectations and poses and even sang for a while.
 
Unexpectedly, and most rewardingly, as they proceeded through the large throngs which had now foregathered around the water’s edge, the Malarkey’s crew were given standing ovations by those who had previously been entertained by them in the preceding days.
 
Later, after another fine luncheon provided by the organisers of the Festival, and with the warmth of this startling and so un-British emotional outpouring in their hearts, the buoys collected their goods and chattels from the temporary storehouse where they had been laid and set out from the harbour town of Paimpol for the final time.
 
Back in Lezardrieux, the assembled company, suitably attired in their matching finery, made for the village tavern where crepes and gallettes were consumed in large number along with enough liquid refreshment to keep them afloat during the next day’s voyage home. On the walk uphill to their lodgings at the end of the day a clear sky revealed the fullness of the moon, which clouds had hidden from view the night before.

13th August 11 - Paimpol Trois

 

13th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Broad – Paimpol Trois
Weather:- Precipitation Within Sight
Wind:-  L&V
 
Their first night at lodgings in the village of Lezardrieux, and divided into two separate cabins, had been interrupted for all by bunk breakages. The first occurred when the Anchorman first fell into his and went straight through to the floor while, in the second dormitory, four of the thus accommodated lads had their nights repose punctuated at regular intervals by the successive giving up the ghost of the slats supporting Cameron’s part-sleeping form, all of which instances were followed by utterances unsuited for mixed, or indeed any, sensible company.
 
During a fortifying breaking of the fast, the proprietor of the lodging house had brought the news that a pictorial representation of the crew had appeared on the foremost page of the notable daily publication Ouest France.
 
Only later did the buoys also find out that their antics of yesterday had been reported, along with their likenesses, on French national visual media of the type not to be invented until the enterprise of one John Logie Baird some hundred years hence. And not once reported but twice!
 
Then it was back to the quayside for a day of ‘roaming’ amongst the assembled ships and dockside taverns and, as it turned out, attempting to avoid the heavenly torrent which arrived in due course. One brief attempt at vocal harmony on board the “Johanna Lucretia” was closely followed by another under a canvas awning set up to shelter those in need from the elements and then yet another nearby as those in situ within had offered beer for singing: an exchange with which the buoys are always happy to have truck.
 
Encountering a troupe of wandering musicians arrived from Paris within one particular quayside hostelry, the First Mate persuaded them to accompany the usually unaccompanied efforts of the crew with instrumentation par excellence of a rather different musical genre and thus shazz, or shanty-jazz is formed; the results of which can be viewed elsewhere in these pages.
 
Having achieved their accidental objectives of creating a new musical form and becoming soaked to the skin, the lads called it a day and suitable rewarded with food, drink and collected gold coin, they travelled some leagues inland to regale the few brave souls in a village tavern with further raucousness and the polyphonic rendition of numerous bawdy songs before turning in for what remained of the night.
 

12th August 11 - Paimpol Deux

 

12th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Broad – Paimpol Deux
Weather:- Drizzle Clearing from Oest
Wind:-  WSW 2
 
Despite the ship’s rolling during the night, when the buoys eventually crawled dishevelled and in various states of disarray from their cabins, the sea was relatively calm and a bright day seemed in prospect.
 
Surprisingly well guided by Sirius, arrival in Paimpol was achieved with no further incident and the advanced landing party of Mr Drinkitall and his current wench, who had been dispatched some days previously, had obtained the necessary enscribings by the production of which, they lads would be allowed into all areas of the quaysides.
 
Thereafter, an orientation of this new port was had with the somewhat unrealistic anticipation that it would prevent the crew from getting lost during the following days. This having been at least partially achieved, a performance was given later on from the deck of the Bateau “Fee de L’Aulne”, which attracted a very large audience who, astounded by the rendition they had just witnessed, proceeded to flock forward to speak of their enjoyment and to purchase mementos with which to shock their unsuspecting friends and relatives.
 
Food and drink closely followed this spectacle and bolstered by the hospitality thus offered the buoys sallied forth to board the “Vigilance” which had recently crossed La Manche from Brixham and whose Captain had carelessly invited them aboard. An impromptu second performance then ensued before beer and porter were found at a nearby hostelry prior to heading the few hundred yards inland necessary to witness an evening’s entertainment provided by the Chieftains and Simple Minds.
 

11th August 11 - Paimpol Un

 

11th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Broad – Paimpol Un
Weather:- Drizzle, Sea:- Lumpy, Breakfast:- Not Required.
Wind:-  WNW 5
 
The crew managed to navigate successfully to the port of Plymouth ready to embark on their next voyage, despite one of their number having managed to leave his most vital papers at home: a fact fortunately discovered before too long into the journey.
 
There followed an enormously long delay in permission to board, after which, once safely allocated bunk space, sustenance was obtained and an informal meeting held to discuss the morrow before all retired to the confines of their bunks, being commonly exhausted by the combination of travel, delay and the lateness of the hour.
 

31st July 11 - Land Locked Aye Aye Aye

 

31st day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Land Locked – No Sea Sighted
Weather:- Scorchio
Wind:- L&V Inc N3
 
After once again safely traversing the passage twixt lodgings and field, a welcome to all was held at Shanty Camp to hear the joyous news that Mister Cleavage was sufficiently recovered to be en route from Exmouth.
 
Required by the organisers to sing into small metal devices on the main festival stage at a time when no-one would be there to hear, the lads then duly did as asked. Within a mere thirty minutes the ‘sounding man’ declared that he had heard quite enough and that he would be able now to subdue or enhance as necessary the inevitable raucousness of the crew’s later appearance.
 
Their hunger and thirst assuaged – for some, on several occasions – and thoroughly bolstered by the timely arrival of the First Mate, the buoys made their way back to the scene of the morning’s shenanigans to find that, on this occasion, the very large marquee which housed the “Main Stage” now also accommodated a substantial gathering of people. At the appointed hour, trunks, chains, ropes and wheels were hauled into position and a spasm of their finest utterances was delivered to the attentive audient with even more than the usual degree of gusto, camaraderie, humour and not a little tunefulness. This remarkable event was fortunately or unfortunately for some, inscribed for posterity.
 
Afterwards, remarks were heard: some of them complimentary, and several individuals found the courage to seek out the crew to ask for personal marks to be made on their recently purchased audio souvenirs. Those who are able to write willingly obliged before chattels and bags were packed away in preparation for the voyage back to home port.
 
Shore leave has now been issued and those of the crew who do not take the opportunity to jump ship will report for duty in just over a week’s time to set sail for France.

30th July 11 - Land Locked Aye Aye

 

30th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Land Locked – No Ships Sighted
Weather:- Toasty
Wind:- L&V
 
Having avoided falling into the river and the various ponds which had been cunningly placed to catch them unawares on their journey along a moonless footpath home from the hostelry the previous night, a refreshed crew managed to meet almost at the appointed hour in the “Song House” for a session entitled ‘Sing like a shantyman’. A host of festival-goers also arrived at said venue laughably expecting the lads to have some idea what this activity entailed. Safe to say everyone there learned something. Leastways many were taught a lesson!
 
Shortly after – and with scarcely enough time to visit the heads, some of the same people, now accompanied by others, assembled in expectant mood for a “shanty session”, during which ninety minutes, those attending were invited to sing sea songs, shanties, forebitters or any salty or nautically connected ditties which they knew and wished to share. Whenever possible, and particularly if the guests proved too competent or had too fine a voice, the crew and others joined them in the choruses to ensure that the quality of what they offered was maintained at Malarkey level throughout. Many a budding career foundered precisely at this point.
 
At the latter end of the afternoon, as the heat of the sun began slowly to fade, the buoys once again found themselves on the Plaza Stage; this time as advertised in the schedule of events. Perplexingly they found that some who had seen and heard them earlier in the day were ready and waiting for them again. It would seem that no amount of warning will save those who do not wish to be spared. Indeed, by the time they began, all available seating was occupied and soon thereafter, even more were seen to be drawn in by the cacophony and abortive attempts at harmony. Some were even forced to remain upright as the proceedings unfolded. As they finished, there were unsolicited requests for “more” to which the crew responded as best they could in such a state of shock.
 
As if to prove that strange things were in the air at around this time, one of the numerous and regular wains which had been hired to bring the townsfolk to the school had found the particularly generous entranceway too narrow for its possibly inebriated driver and had partially demolished said portal by striking it on all sides, causing substantial damage to both the fixed brickwork structures and the street furniture as well as the vehicle itself, and managing to alarm considerably the horses and both those on board and those waiting to board it in the expectation of safe passage homeward.
 

29th July 11 - Land Locked Aye

 

29th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Land Locked – Middle Lands
Weather:- Mizzle
Wind:- SSW 2
 
 
Having journeyed far inland from Exmouth during the day, the crew arrived at their destination to find that the advance landing party had set up camp and had collected the necessary individual permits and licences, which were then passed to the more recent arrivals. Those who were more familiar with the land in which our brave lads found themselves then conducted the remainder on a tour of the land-locked area to which they had come.
 
This proved to consist of a vast array of buildings and sporting fields belonging to Warwick’s very finest educational establishment – a place of learning most unfamiliar to the crew of the Malarkey, especially as they had left the First Mate (one of the only even partially educated amongst them) behind in his maliferous hammock. After a brief stop at the ‘Shanty Camp’ for some much needed but non-alcoholic liquid refreshment, the newly arrived crew members then sallied forth to find their lodgings.
 
This task accomplished, later that evening, and after changing into attire more suited to meeting their public, the buoys assembled at the so-called Plaza Stage to warm up their vocal chords and astonish an unsuspecting audience with their unadvertised, yet invited, caterwauling. The outburst successfully closed that particular event and simultaneously encouraged those with a musical ear who witnessed it to avoid the forthcoming evening spasm.
 
Some hours later, once all children and those with any sense had long since retired to their hammocks, the lads re-assembled at the “Living Tradition Centre” where they headlined that evening’s entertainments and managed, despite some over-excitement among certain crew members, to complete their performance almost in tune and very nearly in time, before heading back across town via the camp-side tavern to their lodgings.

17th July 11 - Westward Ho. Ho.

 

17th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Land Ho – Westward Ho! Ho.
Weather:- Typical Summer Rain
Wind:- W 4 – 5
 
With Westward Ho obscured by squalls of rain and bits of the Devon coast it was a bedraggled crew who straggled ashore after the passage back from Southern Ireland. Fortunately during a brief period of lucidity, Sirius Erra had turned sharp left, realising the coast of Wales was passing under his lee. This miracle happened just off the South Bishop Lighthouse though was probably more likely to have been the result of him grabbing at the wheel after tripping over something on the poop!
 
Other members of the crew had a less comfortable arrival as Mister Normous had taken charge of a Jolly Boat and had found the most tortuous route from the Exe to the hidden valley of Clovelly. How he managed to find a flock of sheep at sea was beyond those hanging on for dear life in the bottom of the boat.
 
Once all assembled the crew quickly split up again, some to grab a less arduous passage down to the shoreline and others to take shelter from the rain and get outside of a marvellous jug of coffee.
 
Once on the Strand, and with scant heed being paid by those few hardy souls who had ventured out at the crack of dawn, our brave and somewhat tarnished crew managed to rouse the spirits of all in attendance. The results of meticulous planning and the urges of our navigator to add a touch of drama to the event all seemed to go by the board but all went largely un-noticed by the slowly gathering multitude.
 
What was called for was a lengthy recuperation somewhere warm and somewhere where pasties and ale might be procured. The latter was readily forthcoming but the expected length of shore leave was roughly curtailed as the cry when up “where are my Blue Mosquitoes?”. It soon transpired that a group of antipodean musicians travelling under that very name were expected that morning to give support to our likely lads. It turned out that their navigator, one Abel Janszoon Tasman, had definitely been to the same school as Mister Erra. An error of 180 degrees saw the group knocking on the doors to the caves frequented by an infamous Somerset Witch rather than being where they should have been, entertaining the good folk of Clovelly.
 
But the speedy interjection of one Emma Cinque, soon rectified the situation their arrival being only slightly tardy. It did mean that after back to back performances our crew could slope off back to the Public Houses early whilst our Tasmanian friends held the fort all afternoon.
 
It was then that the advantages of “Tiny’s Tours Jolly Boat” soon became apparent. A short journey later the lucky passengers found themselves tucked up by the fire in a country pub with lashings of roast beef, roast pork & local sardines for company. The not so fortunate others found that the popularity of Clovelly on that day had stripped the larders of the cook houses bare and there was scant reward for their searchings.

3rd July 11 - I See No Ships

 

3rd day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Erin IV – “I See No Ships”
Weather:- Fog
Wind:- L&V
 
It was with heavy heart that the Malarkey prepared to set sail that morning.
 
A wondrous time had been had by all and many wonderful memories were being taken away of a visit to Erin’s oldest city that will go down as truly remarkable amongst ships logs past & future.
 
The only snag was that the fog was so thick that no-one noted the departure of our brave, if somewhat diminutive, vessel nor did they note the departure of many of the other tall ships on the way to the start of their race.
 
So with some trepidation the Malarkey set out once again for home shores with the uncomfortable knowledge that Sirius had the compass & Wayne the ship’s wheel!

2nd July 11 - Ships Ships Everywhere

 

2nd day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Erin III – Ships Ships Everywhere & far Too Much to Drink
Weather:- Brilliant
Wind:- SE 1
 
Due to overindulgence and lack of discipline not a lot happened this morn. Even Gunner Drinkitall couldn’t get the lads motivated until well after noon. And it was not for honour or glory that the lads stirred themselves this after noon, but for material gain. Well as much gain as could be had by the selling off of parts of the ship, parts of past performances & parts of the crew. Messrs Cleavage and Erra were by far the best at the latter returning home with their images unfortunately spread to the four points of the compass. The best way of accreting wealth seemed to be to stop by a lively bunch of onlookers and demand money with voices. Give 'em just enough then move on leaving them wanting more. A dangerous pastime if the onlookers were fleeter of foot that our lads.
 
And it was perceived dangers which decided Wayne to forgo the pleasures of a visit to one of his previous winter haunts. His advice about the likelihood of a possible terminal attendance persuaded the others, once ensconced in the dark recesses of McLoughlin’s, to stay there and not move a muscle. A short spasm turned into three episodes of glorious harmonising whilst the assembled crowd pushed past the lads on their way to & back from the local conveniences.
 
Once Quill the Boson had retired to his chambers amidst heightened security and had completed his final calculations the crew were amazed by the generosity of those with whom they had earlier jousted against on the fields of commerce. The Malarkey gives thanks to those who gave donations, bought goods & chattels, endured posing with the first mate & navigator and to those who didn’t realise that light-fingered Minella was passing amongst the crowds.

1st July 11 - I See More Ships

 

1st day of July. Year of Our Lord 2011
Erin II – “I See More Ships”
Weather:- Sultry
Wind:- NE 3
 
It was early to rise this morn as rumour had it that ships containing bunches of lazy buccaneers were fast approaching the hard. Mr Guinness in his wisdom had invited all and sundry to Bolton Street to frankly just mill around and make the place look untidy. Why so many were required to report there was beyond the crew of the Malarkey but a few brave early risers sallied forth to lead the ever growing number through the portal of fame having previously roused spirits with the odd ditty. Unfortunately Mr Guinness was not overly impressed with this morning’s attendance and has steadfastly refused to include the event in his famous book. “A few pirates short of a crew” was his reasoning.
 
Our lads did have one advantage over the mob in as much as they were sensibly & picturesquely dressed and offered many an opportunity for a quick etching to be made whilst all were trying to stand still against the tide of humanity. Best progress was made through the throng by pretending to harmonise and interject salty sayings in time with the beat. This had the same effect of parting the crowds as did Moses on stretches of La Mer Rouge all those years ago.
 
Another spreading of the word over the Isle or Erin was performed by Mr Dunne during a brief sojourn in his Coach 'n Four later that morning. In fact so effective were his magical contrivances that the word even reached Signor Heights who had been left behind in Albion. As usual Mister Cleavage put any rumours of piracy well to rest as the crew of the Malarkey have to earn a living rather than go around pinching other peoples.
 
After an extended period of shore leave the crew were obliged to gather at the bawdy house as occupied by Wayne the Anchorman & his good lady wife. Apparently their female offspring was in the process of being spliced that very afternoon in the far land of Apollo & Zeus. Pictures of the happy event were turning up miraculously fast as a stream of carrier pigeons raced across western Europe depositing their loads for all to see. The crew, after focusing on the tiny scene, offered many a warm congratulation to the blushing bride & blushing Anchorman.
 
‘Twas then a short step from Athena & Achilles to Rolf & Dame Edna. If only Rolf and the Dame had been there then the Quayside Inn may have been significantly busier. However and notwithstanding the buoys did set up, perform & un-set up to the cheers of several Pink Ladies, one man and a dog.
 
It could be never be said that the lads of the Malarkey would pass up a free lunch, dinner, breakfast or snack if offered. And so it proved this eve as another local house lived up to its name as the buoys Wandered Inn. Porter and wine flowed freely all eve with only a brief requirement to do some work and sing for one's supper. Luckily, others of the same mind were in attendance which allowed our lads a bit more time off than they were used to. Mind you, the production of several lengths of chain soon got the attention of all therein who quickly realised that they were in the presence of greatness, or should that have been “strangeness”? Anyway, thanks must go to the local Hooks & Crookes, for allowing our lads to sneak into the city, for providing them with a free feed and for allowing them to sample some real music as played by real musicians as the evening unfolded.

30th June 11 - Waterford by Hook or Crook

 

30th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
Erin  – “I See Tall Ships”
Weather:- Overcast
Wind:- SW 4
 
And did those feet in recent times walk upon Erin’s fields of green? The answer luckily was, yes, as a stroke of genius and a sharp right turn off Newfoundland saw the Malarkey pull alongside the quay in Ireland’s oldest city, Waterford. And what had drawn our unlikely heroes this far from their cosy home port, apart from an easterly gale? Not only the chance to savour some of the fine porter produced hereabouts but also the chance to show off their seafaring skills amongst those hell bent on making the fastest passage between here and southern Scotland. Snowballs stand better chances in the fires of Hades than did the Malarkey of even getting that far but hope often far exceeds reality.
 
Fortunately for the gale ravaged crew members of the advanced shore party had secured lodgings in a not so bawdy house which doubled as accommodation for those looking to further their education. Heartfelt thanks go to Wayne the Anchorman for managing to wear down the locals and persuade them not only to put up with our lads but to put up our lads. (Note to log:- Lads = Crew Members & Partners. This ship is an equal opportunities slaver.) However some travel arrangements only hung together by a thread thinner than the cloth of Mister Erra’s trouser seat. This saw a mad dash for the first appointment necessitating the use of horse drawn hackneys.
 
The harbourmaster had thoughtfully ordered our now well watered buoys to spout forth on Frank Cassin’ Warf hard alongside a gathering of exciting entertainments with which to thrill a crowd obtainable by all with the use of money. Another attempt to drown out the utterances of the crew was by the newly adopted moving kettle, recently invented/plagiarised by Mr Stephenson, to sound its whistle at every opportunity to add a cheery backdrop to the early evening’s entertainments.
 
Then on to The Granville which had requested the lads to do their stuff in two parts. This was soon elevated to two parts with a third part thrown in the middle just for luck. The latter arrangement was soon agreed to as the ships coffers had been under some recent strain! Safe to say the attendees in the main body were full of appreciation at the other strainings that the crew were now becoming famous for whilst those of loftier position paid more attention to the repast spread before them. To add to the atmosphere, whilst the buoys were enjoying a well earned liquids break, an impromptu tea shoppe was erected on the main floor to provide sustenance to those whose forbearance was a sign of their temperance. When the crowd realised that all that was to be had therefrom was hot infused water the two entrepreneurs were hastily evicted from their prime location.

26th June 11 - Mevagissey

 

26th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – East of Lizzard
Weather:- Misty Morning
Wind:- W 3
 
A feast of fish awaited the Malarkey as it pulled alongside the quay in Mevagissey. Amongst fishing Smacks & Trawlers of every description the towering mastheads of the Malarkey provided a magnificent spectacle as the mists cleared to bring froth a sunny day.
 
Luckily for those adverse to the aroma of so much pelagic produce a lot of ice had been used to keep control of unwanted decay. One was heard to say, “it was reminiscent of a star-gazey pie without the pastry.
 
Fish again featured heavily at lunch although light relief was provided by the discovery of Ms Stogs behind the bar. Passers by were treated to a display of gurning as the crew looked out between the leaded lights of the tavern window commenting that more life had been seen just up the street in the taxidermists window!
 
Before the lads ensconced themselves precariously perching over the harbour waters, Betty left her post from behind the bar to jolly the buoys along with their banter & repartee. The gathering crowd looked on in amazement and with not a few tears in their eyes. This was probably due to the fact that the sun, whilst keeping well clear of the crew, had decided to blaze down from on high directly into the faces of the onlookers. Acoustics and solar radiation lead to the questions, “can they see us?”, “we can’t hear them?”, “is there anybody out there?”.
 
Notwithstanding the crew rallied magnificently and gave forth to the restrained enthusiasm of all present. So restrained were some that the crew were cut short in their prime after having been promised their allotted full span of 3 score and none.
 
So, after heaving all their goods and contraband onto the local wagon service, the gallants moved purposefully through he gathering crowds back to the cliff top ready to strike out for foreign shores.
 
It has been left to Mr Erra to navigate the ship out to the Bishop’s Rock, there to take a sharp right turn and try and hit the southern coast of the green Isle of Erin. Whether he is up to the task another log entry must tell.
 
 

21st June 11 - A Feat of Joy

 

21st day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
At Exe – A Feat of Joy
Weather:- Marvellous
Wind:- NE 2
 
This eve, as a break form the heavy chores required on board, the lads were allowed ashore to terrorise the worthies of Topsham once again. Having recovered from the latest passage home the buoys soon found good voice with which to keep the rapt attention of those dedicated to a more pedestrian form of existence.
 
With not much space to exercise their newly honed skills the lads put up a creditable performance the repercussions of which may soon be felt in the long houses of the rich and famous! But therein lies another story.
 
Many of those present had been long associates of our dearly departed brother, Cutler Legov, and it was with some humility and reverence that our crew performed on that eve.
 
The space provided did not allow for much standing at the final burst but generous appreciation was shown by those there gathered and our crew departed in good spirits pledging to return if anyone would have them back.

19th June 11 - Aber Fal III

 

19th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – Aber Fal III
Weather:- Recollection Hazy
Wind:- W 4
 
After the departure of Alfredo Heights for godly duties in East Devon, the crew repaired somewhat reluctantly back to 5 Degrees West for the final fling of their stay in Falmouth. Sat snugly in the bay window of yet another bar they were soon joined by many attentive lunchers and the smatterings of crews from far and wide. All cheerfully joined in with the efforts and antics of our quickly re-energising crew until all were spent.
 
And so spent were they that the return passage was to be one of the quietest on record. A busy time lies ahead as the Malarkey, after only a brief re-vittaling stop back in Exmouth would soon turn around and head back to the waters of that very same stretch of “Coast”.

18th June 11 - Aber Fall II

 

18th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – Aber Fal II
Weather:- Clearing Showers & Crowds
Wind:- SW5
 
And so the prophesy came to pass. Sedateness & un-energeticness were present in equal measure apart, apparently, in the lodgings of the Drinkitall’s who had found some use during that sojourn for the ship’s rope!?
 
Moving swiftly on, the crew broke their fast at their ease before ambling across the breadth of Falmouth to view goings on at that part of the suburbs known locally as “The Moor”. The lads from Sheringham were giving good account of themselves and were undaunted by the squalls that kept blowing in from the Western Approaches. But the sun shines on the righteous as was proved by the clearing skies as the buoys from the Exe stepped to the fore. In fact several Exmothians had made the long haul west just to witness what might unfold during that noontide spasm. And all were not disappointed as the previous night’s lethargy was shrugged off and a sparkling new crew shone forth. Many wished to see the lads again and actively enquired about their itinerary. Some even donated several sovereigns for the privilege of returning home with a memento of that day. However, one young mother of obviously dubious taste, found it all too much and used the prevailing wind to launch her toddler’s conveyance directly at an astounded crew. Luckily the occupant had vacated said conveyance not a moment too soon.
 
And to dine, or so the lads thought. Unfortunately Wayne’s communication with the provider of all things Cornish had gone woefully astray leaving the crew to moan and grizzle mightily. The situation was soon retrieved by Mister Heights but not before Seymour Cleavage had managed a quick dalliance with a young lady who had insisted that she was big in broadcasting! More fool him. Catching on quickly, the rest of the crew did dalliance with another fair maiden who purported to be something of an artist and suggested that the crew could be made to look good along the lines of Dennis The Menace & Gnasher. We shall see.
 
After many a repeat of the lunch provided the gallants from the Malarley headed back to that edifice dedicated to nauticalia. And there before a crowd of several hundred and with a steadily rising gale, they did entertain and convey a little of what life is like many leagues from shore and many months from loved ones. In fact reality soon came home to roost as spars came crashing down and Mister Cleavage found it hard to stand upright with lines twisting around his feet. Nothing unusual there then? But the rising of the star that is Ian Ormous, wholly suited to appearing as designed by the aforementioned artist, took the dockside by storm with a heart rending ballad of poignancy and pace. All will now have to look up to him, not just those associates of Ms. S. White.
 
After a quick stein or two, of ale not the restaurateur, the advanced party repaired to the halls of Shakespeare there to ready the world stage for the inaugural Falmouth Festive Feature for which the locals had been asked to stump up some hard earned cash. And stump up they did in their scores. With Sheringham first on the incumbents were treated to a melodious melange of maritime melodies unaware of the mayhem that was to follow. After a break for the traditional ice cream the crew of the Malarkey dragged themselves and all their goods and chattels up for inspection. And inspection was passed with flying colours as the ensemble, down on the main deck, unsteadily took to their feet for the final burst of jollity. It must be reported that they were not at all coerced or cajoled or were in any way made to make a spectacle of themselves by Mister Cleavage’s subtle and understated urgings. But all were seen to have had a good time, even the lass from Sheringham who had so foolhardily volunteered to sit on Seymour’s knee earlier on.
 
After dismantling the wreckage placed so carefully earlier Sirius was despatched back to the Rouge bawdy House to dump the gear whilst the over excited lads muscled their way in to a prize position some Degrees West. Cameron risked the wrath of the proprietor by providing contraband in the shape of thinly sliced & fried potato. This repast was perfectly accompanied by a bottle or two of red wine, and not so perfectly accompanied by the rest of a crew who refused to let the evening finish. Stories were told and like minded crews invited to join the celebrations. Marks were given to those on parade with only a lucky few scoring a perfect 10. The morrow seemed a long way away but it is certain that this extension to the evening could only be detrimental to the next day’s efforts.

17th June 11 - Aber Fal

 

17th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – Aber Fal
Weather:- Precipitation Peri-Perpendicular
Wind:- SSW 7
 
At last, with all stowed safely below the Malarkey set sail on her, what may well become, ill fated voyage of 2011. And the portents were not favourable from the outset. Inclemency of weather in the extreme accompanied the raising of her anchor and, upon arrival in the Fal Estuary, the lowering of said anchor was greeted with several loud reports from the dockyards. Cylindrical objects rained down from on high nearly causing Wayne to spill his ale and affecting Terry Firma to loose all sense of direction.
 
Notwithstanding all adversity our gallant crew managed to assemble in the land based lookout attached firmly to that fine vessel dedicated to the preservation of all that is nautical in this fair land. This did not go down well with the custodians thereof who advised our matelots that infringement of several safety issues had occurred and would they please climb down from these dizzy heights.
 
Acceding to the requests of those in perceived authority the crew then gathered on the quayside, a vantage point to which they were far more suited. And what a sight greeted our erstwhile travellers? A vessel from a bygone era, more bygone even than Mr I Normous’ mode of transport, had made fast alongside. The “Matthew”, of Tudor design, had managed to claw her way into the Fal with only the aid of a couple of horses secretly stowed beneath. It is a wonder that these brave fools set out across the wastes of the northern oceans in such a slight and ponderous vessel.
 
“Ponderous” would have been a fair description of the crew as they made their way to the confines of the “Chain Locker” to which Mister Cleavage had directed their steps. Once ensconced therein our lusty lads found themselves crushed between souls of like mind, bent on an evening containing both frolics & debauchery. Unfortunately neither were to be found in the Shipwrights bar but double measures of harmony & conviviality were there in abundance as the crew launched into their third, and probably last, venture to the world of global commercialisation.
 
But Neptune smiled on the brave, for once, and all agreed, or at least those that could hear, that the effort was worthwhile and many a wife has now less to spend on her family than was the case not a week before.
 
And so to hammock, or that would normally have been the case in years past. However, our liberated Boatswain was of other mind. The imminence of a life far away from the petty squabbles of community existence had set him free. A boisterous continuation of the evening’s activities saw the remnants of the crew outstay their welcome with our friendly animated barmaid (Becky of Falmouth was not to be seen) and at last found them dragging their weary souls five degrees west. All would have been well had it not been for the poor hand eye coordination of Mr Minella whilst trying to relieve our former Coxswain of his well earned early morning beverage. Luckily Liz Teria had her finger on the jugular and all was smoothed down with a skill so recently displayed by one N. Bonaparte.
 
And what might the morrow bring? Probably a lot more of the same if in a more sedate and un-energetic manner.

11th June 11 - Nearly all At Sea Town

 

11th day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
At Sea – At Sea Town
Weather:- Fair Enough!
Wind:- SW 3
The Malarkey, having travelled but a short distance from our home port, found itself alongside the quays in the ancient mediaeval port of Fleet. Although more ancienticity could be ascribed to this haven on the East Devon Coast as Johnny Roman had pitched up several centurions earlier with the dubious intention of emptying these isles of anything that hadn’t been nailed down.
 
But that is “l’histoire” as Asterix may have said and he probably would have said a lot more when witnessing the arrival of the above vessel. Suitably unloaded and re-erected the crew set about preparations for an evening devoid of leadership. Mister Cleavage had been left behind guarding the young Cleavages whilst herself disported wildly during uncommon precipitation of a choral nature.
 
Having set their store out and with not some nervous trepidation, our gallants retired to an inner chamber to digest the plans as formulated by ship’s cook Minella, and to digest the repast as formulated by the Lady Legionnaires. All was agreed and set in memories of impenetrable crystal so much the better to provide perfection as the evening unfolded.
 
However memories are not that perfect, mainly due to age and Branoc, and several unplanned episodes helped provide a not to be forgotten evening. Lines were crossed and amplification devices assaulted, over ambitious pitching (although this never occurs when the crew are asked to do the same to the hull & seams of the Malarkey) forced a mini-Mutiny, rowing boats were left un-manned and some of the wit went right over the nodding heads of the assembled cohorts. In fact one lady centurion found the evening too over-stimulating by half and resorted to the time honoured technique of enduring the Malarkey’s attentions by sneaking a quick XL winks.
 
But as the eve drew to a close all were of one accord, and to the strains of the Malarkey’s “departive” overtones, all agreed a thoroughly marvellous experience had unfolded beneath the banner, and in the memory, of their dearly departed colleagues.
 

1st June 11 - Flash Tavy Jack

 

1st day of June. Year of Our Lord 2011
Home Port – Run Ashore (Good Advice!)
Weather:- Clement
Wind:- NW 2
 
On arrival at the local shipping office it was noted that a veritable armada of other vessels had pulled alongside on our normally deserted wharves. For what purpose this gathering had assembled all may be made clear later.
 
Anyway, Ali of Exmouth had surpassed herself yet again, and layed on a fantastic spread for the visiting crews. And all were found to be in good voice as Mister Cleavage inveigled his way onto the Poop and led the massed choir in a rendition of Signor J. Kanakakakaka. Fortunately all seemed able to keep up even with the minimum of instruction, much to the surprise of the landlubbers there gathered.
 
As the shipping office had arranged a far more “high brow” event later that eve the Vandals and Visigoths were summarily booted out to wend their way to a chillier venue, via the renowned stockist of all cheap chattels and beers who had recently set up store near the High Street.
 
Now the populace of Exmouth is made or stuff so stern it could finish off the back end of Lord Nelson’s boat. Crowds gathered and asked themselves why? Crews gathered and asked the same question. Custodians of civil obedience gathered and almost as quickly departed. But all were in for a treat and in no way rued their decision to spend an evening sat on the greensward listening to the more professional histories of our sailor’s way of life.
 
The buoys from the Malarkey disported themselves with gusto and some skill. Next to vent forth were the lads and lasses hailing from the upper crossing of the Tavy. And lastly, but not leastly, a reincarnation of Mister H Johnny who was far more “flash” than an ordinary “Jack”.
 
And once the crowd had been sated, in true nautical fashion, the massed voices of the assembled crews were raised in song to give thanks to the attendees and to bid a fond adieu to each and all. Mister Cleavage’s preparations earlier in the day had paid off as reports of uncontrolled caterwauling had been received from personages taking the evening air at the far end of Exmouth’s Strand over a league away.
 
Once the watch had been called to order by that comely wench Miss L of Devon, all tried to repair back to the shipping office. Betty Stogs herself had been rumoured to be heading that way along with Mister Skinner, himself, brewer of a fine pint of ale. But high browness had crept in behind our worthies and, to the strains of an upright instrument of some note(s), the remainder of the provisions were devoured and the crew then slunk off to their hammocks ready to set forth on what will undoubtedly be one of their busiest sailing seasons to date.

30th May 11 - East of EDevn

 

30th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
Home Port – Estuarine Adventure
Weather:- Much Better Than Earlier
Wind:- W4 – 5
 
After many dire predictions of foul tempest and a deluge of “Arkine” proportions all were proved wrong as the setting sun finally broke through the flying wreck of cloud to illuminate the evening’s outpourings of our gallant crew.
 
Once all were stowed on board the “Pride Of Exe” our skipper for the evening decided to throw all plans, and caution, to the wind as a 90 degree course change saw the bemused stowaways heading out onto the ocean waves rather than up the more serene waters of the estuary. However the keen eyed amongst them would have noticed that the shore was kept no more than a cables’ length off the port beam ensuring at least some might survive what Neptune might throw their way.
 
So, with a following wind which kept things slightly warmer on deck, the motley assemblage proceeded eastwards towards the sleepy hollow in which nestles Budleigh Salterton. The crew of the Malarkey, on seeing the town appear around the headland, re-doubled their efforts and undoubtedly managed to rouse many of the local worthies from their early evening slumbers.
 
The passengers from steerage enjoyed both the spectacle of the impressive coastline and the spectacle our lads were making of themselves. Offers to drop some of the human cargo back home in Brixham were refused on the grounds that personal transport devices had already been procured for the return journey by land. This was a shame as it would have added mightily to the coffers of the crew if these devices had been auctioned off in the local market place of Sea-Bay!
 
Having lost his nerve as the ends of the world drew nigh, a quick “about turn” saw our vessel heading back to Exe directly into the teeth of the gale. In the flick of a mermaids tail all vacated their upper deck berths and gathered en-mass below as close to the ale retail outlet as possible. They were then treated to another spasm of uttering’s from Mister Cleavage et al and were saddened when the dockside once again drew near. But not to wish their guests to be short-changed the buoys gathered by the gangway to wish those disembarking their gratitude for their forbearance and a safe onward journey.
 
The crew would also like to have writ large their appreciation of the generosity of the host vessel and its crew which enabled some 1000 doubloons to be squirreled away into the sea chest of our home ports festive coffers.
 

27th May 11 - Twins Ahoy

 

27th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
A Grove Situation – Twins Ahoy
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- E5
 
An unlikely assortment of Malakeyites gathered in their home watering hole to entertain and say “thank you” to their hosts in years past from our town’s mirror image on the west coast of Germany. Unfortunately the vagaries of weather and travel prevented over half of the advanced party from reaching balmy Exmouth in time to hear the lads spout forth. However the quartet of dignitaries swore it was the best thing they had come across since entering Exmouth some five minutes earlier.

20th May 11 - Fair Cop Guv

 

20th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
Point West – Mail coach location:- E.I.E.I.O. Again
Weather:- Beech Buoys
Wind:- SE4
 
And once more unto the Clyst rode the crew of the Malarkey. Or at least a motley few managed to drag themselves to the headwaters of this mighty stream. The events as witnessed yesterday continued apace with our gallant lads finding themselves once more on the beach. The beach being the more surprised of the two as it found itself some three leagues from the sea.
 
Amongst other local worthies and purveyors of all the finest Exmouth has to offer the crew entertained and strove to paint a rosy picture of life at the mouth of the Exe. Unfortunately the efforts of Mister Clew to encourage others to view this spectacle, were frowned upon by the great and the good and were advised to keep their directives strictly within the parish confines.
 
Having sampled a generous helping of this year’s offerings, offerings of thanks were given and the Malarkey returned from whence it came ready to fight another day.
 

19th May 11 - Fair Trade

 

19th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
Point West – Mail coach location:- E.I.E.I.O.
Weather:- Fair Trade
Wind:- S3
 
And thus they did repair to that mighty ground reserved for the showing, and selling, of all agricultural produce which hails from this fair county of Devon.
 
Mighty may have been the ground, but the lads were limited to a tiny portion thereof to give comfort to wandering souls who had been sated by the rich emanations as described above. Many settled down to take heed of the ranting of the crew, glad to ease their sore feet and to be cheered by all things nautical. Verily the difference between chalk & fermented dairy product was commented upon by all in attendance.
 
The lads, giving good voice and a good account of themselves, were surprised to see the masses drift away like mist on the morning breeze once they had been released from the confines of the exulted high place.
 
And so, with the predictability exhibited by the sub-continent’s monsoon, they found themselves joining the revelries in a hastily erected fabric shelter reserved for the squandering of large amounts of money. Sampling of the produce on offer therein fortified our gallants and persuaded them to give voice once more, totally un-rehearsed and un-prepared. Mind you, the inhabitants of this large Yurt seemed to enjoy the company, almost warming to the crew along the way.
 
But other fish had to be fried as the local disseminator of news had requested the crew’s presence at two bells in the last dog watch precisely. This year the supply of energy to the aforementioned provider did not fail at the last moment which, (un)-fortunately, allowed most of Devonshire to descry the buoyish charms of our boson and the “gurnings” of the first mate.
 

14th May 11 - Showery Blusterings

 

14th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
Home Port – Shore Leave
Weather:- Squally Blustering
Wind:- NNW 4
 
With the Malarkey still tied up alongside in sunny Exmouth it was left to Snr A Heights to keep watch and look after the many Powder Monkeys who have recently found their way on-board.
 
The rest of the crew, on pretext of cementing relations with the locals especially those of the farming fraternity, had had dispersed to “all points of the compass”.  This being a nautical term for, “all the pubs within walking distance of the dockside”.
 
However a resolute band of stalwarts did indeed mingle amongst the populace. And they managed to inform a good few thereof about the looming spectacle that was to take place that very next weekend. Namely, a gathering to promote all that is agriculturally excellent and especially produced from within the bounds of this fair county of ours. The only reason for the lads to be doing this work of esteem-able charity one would surmise, would be to obtain free samples thereof in exchange for some thinly disguised effort of entertainment.
 
In fact the generosity of the townsfolk quickly took hold of the loose morals of the crew as they could soon be heard to be leading a raucous mid-noon session in one of the new fangled coffee houses.
 
So raucous in fact that the strains of singing, or their strains, could be heard on the wind well over a league away. Roses & grog featured large in their exultations so at least the spirit of the occasion, if not the literal detail, was kept to the fore.

1st May 11 - All Rugged Up

 

1st day of May. Year of Our Lord 2011
Home Port – All Rugged Up
Weather:- Precipitation Overhead
Wind:- NE4
 
After enduring the driest and finest spring on record our gallant crew found themselves huddled together for warmth under a hastily erected shelter which provided some scant protection from the opening of the heavens.
 
The Anchorman had called this sorry bedraggled gathering together to give some credence to a plan so masterful that it had undergone some seventy revisions. And for what reason had this plan been so formulated? Truth to tell it all seemed rather far fetched.
 
Apparently some cove up country had invented a moving kettle which, given due excitement by placing a bonfire there-under, could haul several wagons containing terrified souls at the neck breaking pace of over 4 knots. The only drawback it seems is that the whole contraption requires a pre-fabricated road of metal to enable it move betwixt any two points. So terrifying is this sight that a servant of Mr Stephenson’s household is beholden to walk in front of the sorry affair waving a red flag. And certain gentlemen of the medical profession have decreed that this speed to be excessive and potentially dangerous to the human frame. They seem to have forgotten the fact that it is possible to run far faster than this without injury and persons on horseback heedlessly endanger life and limb on a daily basis. Anyway, we as a crew having regard to all this extreme effort, are of the opinion that it will never catch on.
 
Notwithstanding the above Wayne insisted that the brave boys give voice to celebrate the fact that one of these contraptions had indeed made its way to the mouth of the Exe that very morning. This news took a bit of swallowing but being a good humoured bunch the lads decided to play along. Dignitaries were entertained at the tables of the local worthies who run our town and the assembled crowds of celebrants were entertained in the marvellous central arena by our dignified crew and some friends disporting themselves of the Morris arts.
 
Eventually the sun returned and return did those important peoples from whence they came by the same nefarious transportation devices as used earlier in the day.
 

2nd April 11 - Another Bridge Too Far

 

2nd day of April. Year of Our Lord 2011
Head Of Creek – Her Majesty’s Pub
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- W2
 
Exploration of the lower reaches of the River Clyst, without the proverbial paddle, ended abruptly as the crew found their way upstream barred by the open doors of a pub. Not any old pub mind you but the very house to which her gracious majesty Elizabeth II had repaired for a one off whistle stop tour several years ago. Totally unlike her namesake, Elizabeth I, who seemed to make a point of visiting every wayside inn she came across.
 
Enough of history, although this document is, in the strictest sense, historic. This can be vouchsafed by several of the crew for whom that evening is a very distant memory. Chiefly due to Mr Sam Buka as introduced by Mr Sam Minella after the entertainments had died down.
 
However, great feats of linguistic and harmonious trickery were being attempted by several members of our gallant band of ruffians. Most memorable was the debut on deck of Mr Ian Ormus who rattled off his heart-rending ballad with great skill and pace. The crew only just managing to keep up with events as they unfurled.
 
An appreciative smattering of local folk almost filled the ancient space, once devoted to the brewer’s art, which opened up before the crew. Many enjoyed the skilfully delivered diatribe from Mr Cleavage, all were enthralled by the poignancy of delivery from Ms Highwater, and some were even moved by Gunner Drinkitall’s Napoleonic history lesson. One fine fellow was so moved that he decided to leave for Dublin straight away vowing never to return. The buoys plan to seek him out en-route to Waterford later in the year. You can run and hide but a good shanty will always find you out.
 
And so, after a raucous night across the bridge beside the stream, the crew repaired to their hovels ready to fight another day or at least ready to once again say “never again!” What is a “night club” anyway?
 

19th March 11 - Get Them Fiances In The Hold

 

19th day of March. Year of Our Lord 2011
Inland – Get Them Fiancés In The Hold! ( Bride E Stow)
Weather:- Topographic
Wind:- Catabatic
 
In the proximity of High Willies, or however the locals may pronounce it, the Malarkey pulled up alongside another unlikely dock. Being nearly 167 fathoms above sea level the boys found it a bit of a struggle to get their hulks from the easy reaches of the East Okement River up to the dizzy heights of Bridestowe Common.
 
But far from common were the inhabitants of that fair city who managed to drag themselves away from the comforts of their roaring fires set in the hearths of their Devon Longhouses. In droves they approached the halls of their fathers and were treated to a right royal evening’s entertainment. Chief of which was the appearance of one of the best pasties ever consumed east of the Scillies. Buckets of cider also helped numb he pain.
 
Nothing the like had been heard in Bridestowe before, nor, was anything the like to be heard hereafter. Luckily the audience had been seeded with relatives of some of the crew and they encouraged the Dartmoor novices to throw overboard all restraint.
 
And un-restrained they were. Even inhabitants of East Cornwall heard the strange rumours emanating from the docks of North Dartmoor. They to were keen to participate, but may well have to wait for a more favourable breeze to carry the Malarkey over the border.
 
And so to home.
 
After many a farewell speech and exultation to participate in local affairs, the lads gave final rendition prior to packing away their goods and chattels. They were subsequently cheered by the news that the worthies who had organised the night’s debauchery had in fact profited from the evening in so much as that they might raise a mighty spire towards the heavens and not be affeared of the edifice tumbling about their ears.

12th March 11 - 90 Years Young

 

12th day of March. Year of Our Lord 2011
In Port – Feliz Nadividad
Weather:- Balmy “For the time of year”
Wind:- Variable, due to Mister S. Minella
 
Having been called early from their bunks by Quill the Bosun, the crew, having missed luncheon yet again, repaired to their birthplace in the Beacon Vaults to get ready for the celebration of the 90th birthday of a seafaring cove namely one Petty Officer Pollard.
 
Having checked with the admiralty as to the provenance of such a request the crew struggled up the hill to gather, under the cover of fine ale, in the undercroft of the establishment which was to host the family gathering.
 
Having been lured to said venue by the extreme strategy of a diversionary boat trip followed by promise of a celebratory feast, the gathered company were once astounded, then un-astounded, then re-astounded by the appearance of the crew of the Malarkey!
 
The buoys then proceeded to astound further members of the family & hotel staff with an extended example of their repertoire. So extended in fact that mine host, on several occasions, was seen to wave as if to cut short the deliberations. The crew, with an eye for the subtleties of show-business, assumed this to be an encouragement and continued on to the bitter end.
 
Luckily this went un-noticed by most of the protagonists and the event passed off without resorting to forcible eviction, chiefly on account of Mr Minella distributing placatory gifts amongst the crowd.
 
Please note. Any spelling mistakes and grammatical errors contained herein are not to be placed at the door of the author. Chief responsibility is that of the first mate who has provided sub-standard parchment, poor quality ink and a canny ability to not be able to keep the ship from rolling all over the place.

18th February 11 - What A Releif.

 

18th day of February. Year of Our Lord 2011
In Port – Some Folks Relief
Weather:- Perfect In Los Canarias
Wind:- NE3
 
As the family Heights disported themselves on the beaches of El Anzarotty, some of the crew were given a job to do. When the word job is mentioned normally many slope off to hide in the cable tier but this evening the doors of a local bawdy house beckoned. (Not to be confused with the bawdy house as occupied by Mr C. Nails.)
 
Anyway, suffice to say that signals emanating from the dockside inn in Bicton Street, were received all over the fair county of Devonshire and that a fair amount of gold, to whit £400, changed hands chiefly in the direction of the custodians of the DAAT charitable works. So moved in fact were the attendees that Tug the Cox struggled from his shorebound hammock to give voice in his unique style as a cameo to the utterances of the assembled crew.
 
And as a crew we wish all success to that luminary, Monsignor R Digance, and rich bounty to him in all his endeavours.

12th February 11 - A Voyage of Two Halves

 

12th day of February. Year of Our Lord 2011
On Voyage – All Stogged Up
Weather:- Bootifull My Luvver
Wind:- SW2
 
This was certainly a “Voyage of Two Halves”. The first half, following a short detour to the second half to deposit goods & chattels, began with a crossing of the River Tamar into the forgotten realm of Cornwall. Several bridges & a ferry connect these two counties, none of which could be seen this morn as the Malarkey sailed across the divide on a white blanket of fog. A rapid passage south-westward saw our gallant divertees arrive just afore the planned rendezvous of eight bells in the forenoon watch.
 
And what a sight welcomed the crew. There, amid piles of pins and firkins, stood the object of their dreams with arms open wide. Betty herself greeted the ensemble and soon endeared herself even more by the issue of free flagons of her own special brew.
All that was required of the lads was to stand around in groups, loitering with intent, as a local artiste painted rapid sketches of the scene. Unfortunately Ms Stoggs seemed to get in the way a lot as she made a direct play for the affections of Mister Cleavage. She’ll do anything for a man in a uniform especially if the aforesaid flatters her with poetry what he wrote.
 
After what seemed like an age with the sylph like Betty sat on his knee, Mr Cleavage made the lads get some education, education chiefly on the art of brewing. It is a wonder what Mister Skinner can do with some un-planted barley, some smelly flowers, a few hundred gallons of soft Cornish water, a few lumps of special rock as advised by the boys in Burton and his unique secret little helpers. After a few days mucking about there issues forth the most flavoursome of beverages which has won many a favourable comment from devotees of the art.
 
After a farewell pasty several of the crew went to obtain retail therapy in the bustling streets of the fair city of Truro. However Mister Cleavage singularly failed to set a trend in imported gear for sailors from the land of the rising sun as Mrs Cleavage still seems to have her hands firmly around the pouch containing the family …….. silver.
 
Back the lads repaired to drag Wayne The Anchorman from the clutches of “Betty’s Abode” and to cast off for the shores of Devonshire. “Shores” was a pretty loose description of the location for the second half of the day as the last time this land had seen the waves was about 300,000 years ago just before the mountains of Dartmoor began to get uppish.
 
The bustling fair port of Scorriton, nestling in the hills of the Southern Hamlets, is mis-described in two important details. However the presence of an ale house and quarters where the lads might rid themselves of excess energies were appreciated on many fronts. After altering the décor of the latter and being banned from the former an inquisitive group of locals was treated to a spectacle that will not soon be forgotten. And what a spectacle the boys made of themselves. With controlled enthusiasm the ever growing crowd became more and more absorbed with the crew’s antics. Several had entered into the spirit of the evening with the catch of the day being a young fisherwife dragged to the event by her parents.
 
After a pause for refreshment the merriment continued apace until in a final crescendo, and to the chagrin of a singularly local wag, the entertained requested the return of the lads for a final rendition. With that the village returned once more to the peaceful idyll that the inhabitants had striven so long to create. Some were heard to comment as they made their way home, “well, that was different!”
 
And so the lads prepared to return to home waters. With many heartfelt thanks to those who had welcomed so strange an ensemble to their tranquil island and also thanks to those who had fed & souped the crew beforehand, the Malarkey set sail again on the wings of a freshening gale.

30th January 11 - The Crusty Pike

 

30th Day of January. Year of Our Lord 2011
Run Ashore –  Crusty Pike
Weather:- Frigid
Wind:- NNE 3
 
As a New Year dawned on the tattered sails of the Malarkey, it was with some surprise and sadness that the news reached the crew that they were losing their “Cox”. Tug, an original stowaway on the very first voyage, had decided to hang up his kit bag and retire to a less unstable life ashore. The officers and crew of this fine vessel wish him well and “God speed” and, would like to thank him for all he has done in keeping the younger elements of the brotherhood of sailors on the straight & narrow, an education they will never forget.
 
And so to the first run ashore of this new season of squalls and squabbles.
 
All having agreed to venture to the wicked city of Exeter on the latest descendent of young Stevenson’s moving kettle, only three stalwarts stuck to the rather flimsy plan and found themselves deposited on the trackside with only minutes to spare before the commencement of the evening's entertainment. A quick sprint to the hidden hostelry eventually brought the crew together for the first time. How the majority had come to be snugly ensconced in the warmth of the alehouse without recourse to the only available locomotion none were to admit.
 
Safe to say the other occupants of the “Rusty Bike” soon made good their escape onto the dark streets when they saw what the evening was to have in store. Amazingly enough though many reappeared a short while after, noticeably colder and a few ounces of tobacco lighter.
 
And to the even greater surprise of the crew, when the festivities had commenced, the crowd enthusiastically threw themselves into the event and several even offered to enlist as members of our motley crew.
 
As the evening progressed the singing and dancing became even more wild & raucous. Reaching a climax when it was learned that young Alice of Exeter had reached the exalted age of twenty something and that on that very same day, Wayne the Anchorman had moved into his sixty fifth year. Felicitations and congratulations gave way to a reappraisal of what was to follow. Wayne quickly changed the evening’s plan which saw our lads and new recruits rise manfully, and girlfully, over the cacophony drifting over from the tap room. Rebecca of Exmouth soon put a stop to the indiferentees excesses and the evening finished on a resounding note followed by a sitting/slouching/staggering ovation.
 
With shouts of “see you next week” & “amazing” the crew took their leave of a crowd who had shown exemplary taste. This left our three erstwhile travellers to contemplate their return journey over a final flagon of ale.

19th December 10 - Yuletide Yodelling

 

19th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port – Yuletide Yodel
Weather:- Precipitation Imminent
Wind:- SW4
 
A summons from First Mate Cleavage ensured that all had left their bunks by early evening to muster on the dockside. Although not as parky as the similar gathering of 2009, the weather was not in the least bit kindly or conducive to the commencement of this years solsticical celebrations. However a merry throng soon packed the quayside and good voice was given by all comers, as directed by the aforementioned First Mate and his more shapely colleague.
 
Unfortunately the crew of the Malarkey, failing utterly to grasp what was required of them, managed a crab like shuffle in and out of the limelight. For how long they were to stay no one seemed to know. Only after several abortive attempts at producing a cohesive ensemble did the penny drop with the realisation that only one twitch at a time was required.
 
Luckily others, more able to produce what was expected, helped the evening along with all due solemnity and appropriate attempts at acoustic alacrity. Various musical instruments were brought to bear and the jolly crowd responded merrily enough to ensure that many future events in similar vein be attempted at the appropriate time of year outside Exmouth’s only chandlerier.
 
As for our easily confused crew, all misdemeanours were soon forgotten with the appearance of Saint Nicklaus on his water borne steed and the promise of the new chocolate drinking fashion being enacted across the way in the Dockside Café.
 
As this year draws to a close the officers & crew of the Malarkey would like to offer heartfelt thanks to all those who have supported them in their endeavours throughout this season's voyaging. They sincerely hope that all have a prosperous new year and that a few at least will be seen alongside wherever the Malarkey may find herself in the year of Our Lord 2011.

7th December 10 - In Port, VSOP Port

 

7th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port – In VSOP Port
Weather:- Hoare Frost
Wind:- NE1
 
And so the crew gathered, coxless, for the annual sharing of good cheer and consumption of good fare. In the strand side tavern, known locally as “A small area containing a thicket of single specie trees and grassy sward”, a fine repast was prepared by Dick the Chef, although some of the crew found themselves without a bird. Not for the first time we might add.
 
Chief topic of conversation was the news that Wayne The Anchorman had persuaded, by the application of Irish Stout, several of the worthies of Waterford, Eire, to part with their fancy doubloons and allow the Malarkey to put into that infamous port. This to be alongside many taller ships who were to take part in a race from here to there. This was unclear as several etchings of public houses masked the finer detail of this event. Suffice to say, all were in agreement to that particular passage and all hoped for warmer weather than was being experienced this day.
 
Another highlight of the evening was the lack of the attendance of the Spanish Inquisition, normally heralded again by the Anchorman. The boys were left to entertain themselves and behave as propriety allowed when accompanied by their better halves.
 
And so to presents. Messrs Skinner did the boys proud dispensing regalia and liquid refreshment. They also promised to completely re-paint the hull of the Malarkey and to feature our brave lads on their forthcoming epic saga, “Betty & the Buoys!” An excursion not to be missed.
 
Pussers were also to the fore with a timely gift very suited to the passing on to those more deserving on or about the morning of Dec 25th heavily disguised in colourful paper. That’s me ole dad sorted anyway.
 
Mister Cleavage then harangued the lads with a trip down memory lane, most memories either being dim and distant or totally absent from the space between the ears. Did we really get up to all that? Mind you, looking back at this log for the last year does mainly substantiate even Seymour’s wildest claims.
 
And finally a toast was made to absent friends, the last ditty rendered by Ank; and Ian Ormus eventually obtained a section of sorry looking fowl for his delight & delectation.

4th December 10 - A Day Of two halves

 

4th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port – A Day of Two Halves
Weather:- Dripping
Wind:- E3
 
In an schizophrenic attempt to begin the fast approaching yuletide celebrations and as an aid to our impoverished brothers & sisters overseas, a ragged crew from the Malarkey did leave their hammocks on this cold winters day. In a brief but memorable “tourette” the boys meddled along with a selection of favourites. However, the only recognised show stopping moment was provided by Mister Cleavage as his favourite ditty deserted him. Dramatic pause became lengthy silence with the rest of the crew being of no help whatsoever. Still, those present appreciated our difficulties and good comment was passed on the processionings with the ships lamps.
 
Our redoubtable ladies, who often carry their men folk out to the waiting boats so’s they don’t get cold feet, were present to enable a small wager to be turned into useful artefacts all the better for the giving than the receiving of. Thanks were voiced by the Lady Laura and the whole two page spread was found to have encouraged over 1714 guineas out of the pockets of the rich and famous.
 
A heart warming effort in what must be one of the coldest starts to the winter on record.

27th November 10 - Sirius Manages to Find Barn Door

 

27th day of November. Year of Our Lord 2010
Sheldon – Barn Storming
Weather:- The North Wind Does Blow
Wind:- N5
  
The diminished crew of croaky and cough-laden shanty men, Messrs Heights & Cox having got wind of the impending blizzard stayed snug below, arrived in windy and freezing conditions at the Sheldon HQ of 'The Society of Mary and Martha', high on the southern skirts of Dartmoor, to literally bring the house down!
 
This evening marked the end of one of the Centre's main buildings prior to a complete re-build (demolition beginning on Monday). The "Lowering the Flag" ceremony was preceded, nay heralded in, by our meagre offerings, which were rapturously received by an almost full and largely sober audience, only a few of whom had been put off by the forecast of ice, snow and severe winds.
 
Many of them responded to Seymour's “jokes” well, or otherwise reports are unclear on, and their only (expressed) disappointment was when they found out that we'd removed some of the saltier renditions from our repertoire for the evening in deference to the nature of the venue!
 
Our 'Eliza Lee' was, on this occasion a lovely French lady called Gail - thus ensuring that the evening's promised gale did, in fact, appear. At least Seymour, not to mention the rest of the crew, were very pleased with this outcome.
 
The spasm offered was very well received and, on firm instruction from Sheldon's Warden, Carl, the assembled throng gave a standing ovation - which could have had something to do with not wanting to annoy the host before they'd had a chance to get to the supper that they'd paid for afterwards!
 
Once the ovation had died down, and the compulsory encore had been presented, a short ceremony was held outside The Long Barn to lower the flag to the sound of a bugler playing Last Post. Possibly the only genuinely musical part of the evening.
 
Views were expressed below decks afterwards, by several of those who had been chained to their seats, that what they had witnessed had been the least disagreeable - if not the only - event they had ever endured at Sheldon!!
 
Buoyed up by such observations, and after food and further drink, the gear stowed earlier was transported home between towering icebergs & growlers to Exmouth; the promised snow failing to materialise.

22nd November 10 - Fishy Tails

 

22nd day of November. Year of Our Lord 2010
Clovelly- Herring Fest
Weather:- Overcast, Precipitation Persistent
Wind:- NE3 Increasing 5
 
Departure, for the passage Nor West to Clovelly, was set for seven bells in the morning watch by our over zealous navigator. This ensured that we dropped anchor off the North Devon coast well before any locals had stirred and before any cocks had crowed. Even those enamoured of the Herring were not to be seen on this dismal morning. The only activity espied was that of the gallant crew of the lifeboat manfully putting a brave face on an exercise which probably seemed a good idea at the time of organisation.
 
Slipping down the cobbles to the harbour side, the first shore party were waylaid by the promise of hot coffee and cakes in the cosy retiring rooms of the New Inn. The second shore party, thinking themselves clever in as much as having avoided the perilous descent by cadging a lift on the back of a cart, found the dockside to be cheerless and coffee free. What they did find were various purveyors of herring in its myriad forms. Scaled & gutted, soused, pickled, pancaked, quiched, smoked, smoked again, rissotto’d, open sandwiched and salted. And all this well before the watery sun had climbed aboard the yard arm.
 
Those straggling down the cliff face, not keen on herring, could divert themselves with the purchase of gorgeous glassware and jewellery and could ensure an uncomfortable journey home by the purchase of excessive quantities of liquorice.
 
Before long the lifeboat crew had tired of the open sea managing to reverse their launch into a flimsy looking cage which was then hauled from the water and up the cobble strewn strand by several hundred horses harnessed under one roof.
 
And so the stage was set for the festivities to begin.
 
Our cousins from North Devon bravely shook their legs and entertained the few brave souls who had ventured forth along with the rabble recently disembarked from the Malarkey. And still the quayside inn remained closed.
 
And thus it was, totally unprepared and un-lubricated, that the Men O The Malarkey, disdaining any assistance from those purveying well balanced amplification, set out on an education of the masses the like of which had never been seen before below those spray stained walls. In fact many an onlooker was heard to say, “That taught me a lesson!”. The crowd had swelled somewhat but that might be put down to the imminent opening of the aforementioned public house. However, rumour soon spread that a fine spectacle was to be seen, and less finely perhaps, heard down by the sea shore. Great acclaim was then earned as well as various donations in the ship’s bucket, examination of which was greeted with much gratitude by the crew. All coin to be summarily passed to deserving causes.
 
Once the crowd had been sated with musical entertainment the crew disbanded and repaired chiefly to anywhere that was warmer than the bitter harbour side. A smattering of the lads, bent on enjoyment, found themselves in the snug of the Red Lion attempting repeatedly to relieve the punters of their repast. Tug the Cox failed miserably in this mainly due to him being too fussy about what his lunch should contain. But voices were raised in harmony to the appreciation of the nearby diners resulting in several ales and several guineas being donated to the crew. But larger crowds beckoned and fear of the first mate’s wrath dragged the boys from their toasty vigil.
 
And how the crowds had gathered? So much so as to leave only a corner of the beach from which the crew might shine forth and be looked down on! With the able assistance of young Mel of The Coast, onlookers were accosted and forced to part with hard cash for dubious facsimiles of what was occurring on the foreshore. So taken with Mel’s efforts was Mister Cleavage that he again managed to manhandle his new assistant on to his knee. Little did he know that her consort had taken etchings of what was occurring and will no doubt be sending a copy to Mrs Cleavage by the Pony Express.
 
And so back on board. This time all availed themselves of the offered ride in the hay cart as falling temperature and the prospect of a stiff climb had sapped the will power. Unfortunately some of the herring had managed to sneak on board providing frequent reminders on the passage homeward of their aromatic origin.
 

23rd October 10 - Countess Who?

23rd day of October. Year of Our Lord 2010
River Exe Blockade- Countess Who?
Weather:- Drizzle
Wind:- W 3
 
Having sailed up the Exe from the hallowed birthplace, the Malarkey ran fair 'n square into a wall built across the river. This had been erected, not by Ms Spiers, but by an earlier countess who’d objected to ships unloading their cargo all the way upstream on the quayside in Exeter. Being a Topsham girl she’d decided that it’d be better for the aforesaid ships to pay their respects and dues a bit further down stream. The best way of doing this was to erect some deft masonry across the Exe about half a league above her home port. This worked famously for a couple of years until the town clerk of Exeter, Master Juan Wokershell, decided to build a canal around the Countess. But we stray from the narrative.
 
Having bedecked the auditorium with all things nautical, chiefly aided by Master G Tape, and promising to return before the start of activities, the crew repaired to a nearby ale house to warm their cockles and other crustaceans as advertised my Ms M Mallone. This was done with concentration and fortitude, paving the way for a most memorable evening. Unfortunately it became so memorable that the crew forgot to return at half time and have never been seen therein since, much to the relief of the local worthies and those for whom feeding the inner person was of greater priority than the damaging of the inner ear.
 
And so, on the most bijoux of decks, besporting, cajoling, goading, suggesting, but chiefly entertaining of the masses therein gathered, proceeded apace. Invasion of the lower decks by the capstan crew and those hauling for better weather didn’t dampen the ever increasing enthusiasm shown by the residents of Weir the Malarkey had docked that eve. Even Eliza Lee seemed to enjoy the attentions of the crew, notwithstanding her earlier rough treatment by the knees of the first mate.
 
And so the crew repaired down river to their hovels, the call of soft feather mattresses and fluffy footwear proved greater attraction than the rough reputation of Exmouth on Saturday night.
 
 

23rd October 10 - In Memoriam

 

23rd day of October. Year of Our Lord 2010
Exmouth Docks- In Memoriam
Weather:- Precipitation On Heads
Wind:- SW 5
 
This damp day was chosen to commemorate the passing of two of the crew of the Malarkey. A small throng gathered on the dockside to listen to several favourites as beloved by sailors Rigor Mortis & Cutler Legoff. A resting place for weary travellers has been set in wood by kind donations from varied admirers with a view across the ocean vastness awaiting any who visit this tranquil spot.
 
All were moved to some degree proving that the memory of their lost comrades still burns bright in those salty hearts.

24th September 10 - And How The Mighty Have Risen

 

24th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port- Kombined Koncert
Weather:- Impressive
Wind:- SE, NW, NNE, SSW, Undecided 1
 
And how the mighty have risen? On a fair autumn eve a brace of crews with not so much as the hint of a challenge, mustered on the blackened moor decks to offer sacrifices to the gods of entertainment.
 
Mister Kimber and his men journeyed many leagues from the north of England, notably without the attendance of Mister Kimber, to give good heart to the crew of the Malarkey. In an evening of two halves the rough and ready offerings of the local buoys was enhanced by the almost operatic overtones of our northern cousins. And, when the two crews joined as one, blind rapture prevented some of our stalwarts from moving an inch out of the perpendicular. Swaying was not to be done in front of such revered guests.
 
Jesting aside, but not too far aside, the cramped quarters below decks saw like minded sailors swapping tales of past voyages and shared experiences. This was signalled to the onlookers above who genuinely appreciated the different techniques and styles as exhibited by the two crews, leaving them with a sense of well being and relief. Relief that not all salty sailors are as shy and retiring as tradition allows.
 
And the Humbersiders, as seen on TV, would like to return to these waters. So keep your scrolls clear for early autumn, year of our Lord 2011.

14th September 10 - A Beacon In The Day

 

14th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port- Lessons Learned
Weather:- Scholastic
Wind:- NNE 2
 
A call had gone out from the first mate that a skeleton crew were required to help launch a vessel which, until now, had not tasted the salt sea spray.
 
Those few who could be spared from oiling the wheels of commerce and spared from watering the inner self, gathered in the courtyard of an establishment dedicated to the enlightenment of the young. It’s a pity the crew had not availed themselves of such a facility several years earlier.
 
A couple of rousing calls to join the brotherhood of sailors saw the vessel finally break free from the shore and, coincidentally, a member of the local clergy break free from his duties here in Exmouth.

11th September 10 - Corfe It Up

 

11th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2010
Upper Jurassic:- Corfe It Up
Weather:- Fine with Fog Patches
Wind:- S L&V
 
As the Malarkey put out to sea that morning the sun was soon obscured by thick fog. In fact the crew saw none of the Jurassic Coast at all until they finally dropped anchor off Swanage.
 
Once in port, and obviously the result of clean living, the sun broke through and smiled on the forthcoming endeavours. The mooring chanced to be alongside the grassy bowl in which much activity was soon to take place. Folk were to be seen busily creating craft from the flotsam found thereabouts under the watchful eye of the harbourmaster and his strict time piece. The results of their labours were put to the test afloat some succumbing to the lack of design expertise and craftsmanship.
 
The crowds were royally entertained by the lads & lasses from Wareham and then gaped in wonder at the antics of the buoys from the Exe. Their cavortings seemed to be well received, so much so that the lads were soon asked to move on down the beach. Probably a request by the traders in their brightly coloured stalls as the above was soon seen to be detrimental to trade.
 
Our gallant crew however caught up with the intrepid voyagers who had made it back to shore without any of those all too familiar sinking feelings. Having seen and heard the Malarkees they quickly took to raft again and were treated to a dusting of flour, egg and water presumably because their efforts earlier had made them hungry. The sticky mess was made worse by the gods as the skies opened to drench both onlookers and sailor folk.
 
The wet weather followed the crew all the way back to Exe but the promise of future free ale and vittles ensured promises of a return next autumn.

4th September 10 - Edificial Consecration

 

4th day of September. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Edificial Consecration
Weather:- Inconvenient Showers
Wind:- SW 4
 
After many long months of waiting the eternally sunny seaside port of Exmouth finally was given a new house in which to bring the lifeboat. When we consider that a lifeboat has been stationed in Exmouth since 1803 it’s about time too! But, notwithstanding debates on location and problems with access to the Strand, a flashy new shack has been erected over the original conveniences for public easement and today was officially opened.
 
Luckily, or not so some may say, the crew of the Malarkey just happened to be on shore leave and just happened to be relaxing on the nearby beach. A cry from the first mate rallied the lads and they burst forth in joyous merriment to provide some much needed gravitas to the ceremonials. Gravity itself has not been kind to some the crew but none of the assembled multitude, for such it was, seemed to mind.
 
Once gracious comment had been passed and the new boathouse blessed and dedicated, Mister Cleavage, who in an earlier rash moment had agreed to same, was bundled on board the lifeboat. The crew steadfastly refused to give him an oar, they’d obviously had prior warning on his level of seamanship, as the boat was hauled across the sand by several hundred heavy horse. Instead of the plan that had been surreptitiously paid for by the lads of the Malarkey to dump him overboard at the first least conspicuous moment, the lifeboat returned to shore with our erstwhile hero none the worse for a salt water encounter. Fortune again smiled on him when, having just stepped ashore, the boat returned to the water to attend a successful rescue of real sailors in distress. He even managed to miss the second spasm rendered by our gallant crew due to what can only be described as posing on the Poop.
 
But in all seriousness, the crew of the Malarkey wish those brave souls who risk their own safety to aid others in distress “God speed and a safe return”.
 
And, “Thanks for the tea and cakes”……………………….

3rd September 10 - Judicial Temptress

 

3rd day of September. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Exeter Quay
Weather:- Unimportant
Wind & Hot Air:- Supplied By The Crew
 
For those with access to the semaphore towers now a common sight throughout Devonshire, this morning held a treat so sublime that those attending on this day could count themselves blessed.
 
Verily, the local lass who had made good gave audience to the crew of the Malarkey in her sumptuous chambers in the fair city of Exeter. The goings on therein were passed onto the populace at large by some deft flag work from her servants. This kept the aforesaid populace mightily entertained and the aforementioned servants mightily overworked.
 
Songs of the sea drifted countywide on the breeze and erudite comment was heard in the four corners of the shire. Some apparent snorting, after said comment had been passed, was noted by passers by but this was put down to over tightened corsets and the presence of Signor Enu Indo. Monsieur D. Entendre was also in close attendance but his presence was somewhat overlooked by those with their fingers on the halyards.
 
Suffice to say a very entertaining morning was had by all and especially it seems by Judi Lee and her sidekick.

 

28th August 10 - Ou Sont Les Amis Du Pecheur

 

28th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2010
Under Sail:- Carry On Up The Camel
Weather:- Precipitation Above Masthead
Wind:- NNE 6
 
After the fore guard of the crew had repaired to this next port of call for the Malarkey the day prior, the rest of the motley ensemble straggled in on a whim and a prayer, only to find supplies of “Doom Bar” & “Betty Stogs” seriously diminished. Curiously the Anchorman appeared strangely larger in girth than memory made him.
 
Scattered amongst the bawdy houses of the fair riverside port of Wadebridge and various fields beyond, the crew finally managed to muster on time to bedeck the staging area with their regalia and accoutrements. This time the boys had got in first and had ample opportunity to get well tuned for the expected later encounters.
 
In fact they’d got in so “on time” that opportunity presented itself for repast and re-vittleing. Lucky crew members even managed an audience with Betty herself which came as a sore disappointment as she turned out not to be the woman dreams had made her.
 
And thus the worthies of Cornwall were treated to the best that Devon could provide on that summer’s early eve. The offerings went a long way to assuage some fears that the imposters from “East The Tamar” might not be as good as home grown talent. And a jolly good assuaging it was to.
 
 
29th day of August. Year of Our Lord 2010
Under Sail:- Up The Camel Without An ‘Oar
Weather:- A Blustery Day
Wind:- E 6
 
Having been tipped from their hammocks early that morn by landladies in various states of ill humour the crew met up again at the town’s iron stables to provide distraction for those who had missed the call of the mines and local opportunities for the cleaning of vertical confined spaces. These wide eyed young folk hardly knew what to expect but shrugged off any misgivings to throw themselves with earnest into the roll of the underpaid sailor. Refusing to be intimidated by the scary old men of the sea they assisted ably in the turning of capstans, hauling of lines and exploring of the Southern Ocean on the wings of a song. Signals were soon exchanged with their leaders, to what end only the scandalous broadsheets may reveal, and the crew of the Malarkey departed looking forward to seeing them all again when they have vessels of their own..
 
And then First Mate Seymour said, “I desire to explore this fair town and to meet the beauties to be found herein. Forgo repast brave lads and join with me in revels up the High Street”. He does narf talk posh does Seymour.
 
All were in agreement, except Wayne the Anchorman, who will never forgo repast; not for anyone, beauty or no.
 
And so the crew found themselves across the street from the residence of that most famous beauty, Nicola of Wadebridge. Their angelic like singing and most merry badinage soon brought her to the window of her chambers. And when the veils were withdrawn, to a man, they were summarily reduced to a bunch of incoherent wretches. All except Mister Cleavage whose eyes had obviously failed him at the moment of revelation.
 
Soon a vast throng had gathered to view this impromptu exhibition of all things Malarkey and a pleasant hour was spent in the jolliest of companies. And the crowning moment of that hour was when Ms Nicola deigned to descend from her lofty vantage to mingle with the crew and join in with their final outburst. She was obviously a lady of some intellect as she managed to disappear before any of the crew could pin down the exact location of her abode.
 
Many hours later at four bells in the first watch the crew were summoned from the local watering holes in order to celebrate the close of day in the company of students of the vocal maritime tradition. Though it were late in the day the crew rose to the challenge, even forgetting to forget their words, harmonies, melodies and activities pursuant with the strict entertainment regime laid down on the Quarterdeck. Height restrictions took some toll on the spectacle while width restrictions certainly produced a close knit crew. But those in attendance who had managed to fight their way to the front of the assembled host warmly received what was laid before them.
 
30th  day of August. Year of Our Lord 2010
Under Sail:- The Breaking of the Camel’s Back
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- ENE 7
 
It had come to the crew’s notice over the last day or two that several locals were desirous of learning some insights into the life on board the Malarkey. To this end the lads gathered below decks ready to impart their knowledge and bitter experience. As the bells rang out for the commencement of this infamous act it was realised that the phrase containing the words, “several” and “locals”, may have been slightly over optimistic. One outlander had shown his face above the parapet, possibly in the mistaken belief that from here the last post coach to London may be caught.
 
But eventually word seemed to be spreading with the arrival of many welcome faces the owners of which helped fill the dingy deck space.
 
Sam Minella stood forth to give good report on the “Why’s” & “Wherefores”, ably assisted by Gunner Drinkitall who filled in mainly on the “How’s”. This was chiefly of benefit to the crew who, over the last three years, had been labouring in the dark.
 
So inspirational was the imparted information that several attendees were persuaded to give voice, closely unsupported by the crew who basically did what they normally do and ignore any lead given. Severely reprimanded they eventually settled down and, come the end, all were of one accord.
 
And so the Malarkey set sail once again, on the return passage to the home port of distant Exmouth, leaving behind may happy memories, many new friends and some might say the odd missed opportunity. (See Ms N. of Wadebridge.)

1st August 10 - Adieu Mr Cleavage

 

1st day of August. Year of Our Lord 2010
Short Passage:- On Yer Own Buoys
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- W 4
 
After a swift passage back from Portsmouth the Malarkey drew breath in the not so sheltered port of Sidmouth. In fact, if it weren’t for a few stones hastily dumped offshore, there would be no shelter at all.
 
A gathering of young folk required the crew to be on their best behaviour whilst trying to give a flavour of the life endured under the current first mates tyranny. Suffice to say the first mate was not present, having been dragged over to France by the nuptials, which gave greater latitude for doing less work than normal.
 
Set in the fair gardens which are to be found in that town, the crew skilfully interwove their stories with those of a less salty persuasion. The assembled apprentices soon cut their teeth on hauling, capstaning and generally not trying to be pirates. Even their ageing relatives lent a hand when it came to the harder tasks and all enjoyed a libation free morning in the sun.
 
But the libationing was soon to step up a gear. Moving lock stock and several barrels down to the courtyard of the famous Anchor Inn, the lads arrived just in time to miss displays of that past time involving wooden shoes, sticks & hankies. And what was even more surprising was the fact that when the displays ended the expected exodus of the onlooker failed to materialise. If anything the crowd doubled to two.
 
With this added pressure plus the lack of any sort of professional guide on the helm the lads launched into what turned out to be a memorable afternoon.
 
All sailing instructions were remembered, all pithy remarks directed with accuracy and aplomb, ladies and their gentlefolk interacted with and at long last a replacement was found for Eliza Lee. Mind you, Liz Steeria had to drag the unfortunate “Rosie” to her position above the fabled trap door.
 
The crowd, now having increased to three, were heard to join in with the robust outpourings and favourable comment passed between them. Words such as “tight” and “harmony”, hereto unheard of within 20 leagues of the crew, were bandied about with abandon. And the local scribes recording the happenings for posterity admitted the lads to be well rounded and polished.
 
“Rounded” would be fair and accurate, “Polished” we’ll leave to the imagination.

30th July 10 - A l'eau c'est l'heur.

 

30th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
On Voyage:- Victory Awaits
Weather:- Overcast
Wind:- NW6
 
And so the crew of the Malarkey embarked for an historic passage to Portsmouth to pay homage to the guardians of our shores past and present. This was the real reason for the trip and any rumours that “Rum” had anything to do with proceedings would be entirely accurate.
 
History states that 70 years ago on this day the Royal Navy ceased to entertain their officers and crew with a light cocktail before bed time. Previously many generations of seafarers had been bribed firstly with neat rum in vast quantities, then by half measures as things were getting out of hand and lastly by the sneaky adding of stuff that was “good for you”, namely water, lime juice and sugar. Sugar…..???
 
Our friendly Purser was responsible for supply & distribution and the lads quickly changed the name of the spirit to Pusser’s Rum. The addition of the fruit salad and dilution kit was then termed Grogg after some big wig who strode about in a big coat.
 
Anyway, enough education, in the shadows of HMS Victory the memorial ceremony proceeded apace skilfully conducted by Mister Cleavage. Things went downhill rapidly as the Purser opened the scuttlebutt and dolled out a tot to each man. Comment was made afterwards that the crew had never been seen to move so fast in as much as that as soon as their tot had been received they miraculously appeared at the back to the line with a big grin on their face and an empty mug. The decks of the Malarkey had never witnessed such fleetness of foot.
 
Once proceedings had drawn to a close a Naval Officer of comely proportion invited the crew for a stroll along the dockside. Never being slow in coming forward the lads quickly fell in to line, or more accurately “staggered”. But this officer had plans for our meandering crew. A signalling booth had been erected some distance from Victory with the sole purpose of reaching service men located in over 20 countries worldwide to keep them abreast of events in the dockyards. Being directed to give voice through a tiny porthole the lads were astounded to learn that their dubious tones had been heard by many thousands who were not at that time on duty. Or, more likely, by those who had not had the presence of mind to stick their fingers in their ears or talk very loudly to each other.
 
Having ruined the “surprise element” that military strategists are so very fond of, the lads were forcibly removed from the public view only to be plied with more rum and solid sustenance. In the company of real “round the world” sailors a few more libations were offered before a fond farewell and a departure accompanied by the clinking of glassware in every pocket.

16th July 10 - Stairway To Fame & Fortune

 

16th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- In-Spiered Stairway
Weather:- Fair Precipitation Within Sight
Wind:- SSW 5 -6
 
With the wind whipping across Lyme Bay and the surf rolling over Pole Sands the crew of the Malarkey huddled for shelter behind a hastily erected canvas windbreak prior to participating in this eagerly awaited ceremony. The boys had been gathered to give some gravitas to what was basically the opening of a metal fabrication placed to ease access to a lofty vantage point. Especially useful to those with a finely turned ankle! Once up aloft the occupants keep a weather eye on that section of coast visible through a spyglass, and if required, report to the brave lifeboat crews the whereabouts of persons in difficulty.
 
To bring even greater kudos to the event a local girl who has risen to great prominence in the land was asked to come and cut the ceremonial ribbon. After speeches by the dignitaries and a burst of enthusiasm from the crew of the Malarkey, said ribbon was cut and the aforementioned lady demurely mounted the stairway. In her absence, and despite the wind, the gathered throng were treated once again to what the Malarkey has to offer. This must’ve rubbed off well on our guest as she even deigned to be attended to by Mr Cleavage who always seizes any opportunity to grapple with the situation.
 
Gifts were exchanged and presentations made with promises to keep the newly formed acquaintance alive and moreover to spread the word throughout the fair county of Devon. Indeed a couple of days later the strains of the crew could be heard wafting on the breeze over the length & breadth of the shire.

13th July 10 - Bicton Inn Extravaganza

 

13th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Bicton Palace
Weather:- Autumnal
Wind:- Salty
 
Once again the worthies of Exmouth turned out in their droves to support the landlady of this fine establishment in raising funds for the good doctors of the land to further their work in finding a cure for one of the scourges of our time.
 
Late comers to the Inn found the public area packed to the gunwales as the crew of the Malarkey cavorted on tables & benches, more the better to view the assembled throng.
 
Any form of organisation was soon cast to the wind with unexpected ditties being thrust to the fore and the first mate’s witticisms being snatched by the coxswain. It is unlikely that the onlookers realised to what extent the changes had been wrung as they were to pre-occupied in searching for loose change to throw into the bucket, thus preventing Tug having a meaningful conversation at length with them later in the street.
 
Over 140 guineas were given over the evening to be put with monies collected at other events during the week organised by our doughty landlady. Many thanks Ali for allowing the mis-use of your premises over these 7 days.

12th July 10 - A Little Bit Of COAST

 

12th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
Lyme Bay:- Trawling For Fame & Fortune
Weather:- Fair, too Fair
Wind:- Light and Non-Existent
 
The threat of national exposure did nothing to dampen the keenness of the crew for mucking about in boats.
 
The Malarkey, having been laid up in Brixham, was not required this day so a skeleton crew were left behind. A dozen stalwarts then boarded a trawler and were immediately required to make themselves scarce. Captains orders were quite clear in as much as that any man showing his head above the hatch would be summarily embarrassed and told off by our friends from London.
 
And for what had the crew gathered this day? Well, previously moving etchings had been made and distributed around the country by an organisation entrusted with the National Memory. These fine folk had decided to investigate “goings on” on this stretch of out COAST and felt that pictures containing unwashed ruffians might help explain a lot.
 
The ruffians, namely the crew, were allowed out of confinement for half an hour’s hard labour conducted to the strains of just one dirge. This would then be condensed by electro trickery to 5 seconds of watchable gold. Advice would be to find something else to do of an evening in the spring of 2011.
 
Presumably the unwashdness was too much to bear for the other crew members the lads being hurriedly rowed ashore even before the last refrains had caressed the smooth waters of the bay.

10th July 10 - Weymouth Harbour 2010

 

10th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
On Voyage:- Weymouth Town
Weather:- Fair
Wind:-  SSW 6
 
With a major competitive sailing event looming not far over the horizon the lads of the Malarkey were keen to show those in charge what their vessel might do if challenged. The main question was how to get noticed and included in the herculean travails that are to come.
 
A bit of raucousness in the centre of town seemed to be a good idea so the crew, after dumping their odorous gear at several bawdy houses located a fair step from their target, rallied within much Hope outside a triumvirate of ale houses.
 
A sizeable crowd had already gathered, ostensibly to sample the fruits of the sea as prepared by cooks even more famous than Sam Minella, and were waiting in barely concealed anticipation for whatever might be thrown at them by the organisers. Unfortunately some of the throwings were what might be called “an acquired taste”. This did mean that when our beloved crew stepped forth the onlookers faces became a picture of awestruck beauty and attention. With the Malarkey’s mainsail full and drawing and in danger of pulling the elevated edifice across the piazza they were then treated to a sublime exhibition of close harmony sweating and grunting. So prestigious was the occasion that several of the crew members actually repaired to the chandlers to renew their tired Haute-Couture. And for a grand finale a sprightly “Eliza” was selected by Mr Cleavage to aid him in his penultimate cavorting. However the aforementioned Eliza refused point blank to “Sat on his knee” and was not to be danced around any district of New York whatsoever.
 
And so the Malarkey moved on to its next berth, hard alongside the “competitive seamanship quay”. The local participants of the afternoon’s activities had gathered to feast and make merry after a hard time afloat in Weymouth Bay. In fact they were feasting so furiously that our beloved crew were in danger of having little or no repast to sustain them through the long night. But after a strong showing on the first watch and a trip to the stores all was well gastronomically speaking. Ale was plied and songs were sung and the crowd grew in size and appreciation as the drizzle fell from a leaden sky. Other crews were more fortunate it was later learned as they were able to ply their trade under cover. But this did not dampen the spirits of our indomitable crew especially as this evening’s “Eliza” was more than willing to get bounced on knees and to be danced anywhere in the world.
 
So, in two years hence, will the crew return to hospitable Weymouth? We can only wait, see and improve.
 
 
11th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
On Voyage:- Hope Square Weymouth
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- From Olympus
 
After several of the crew had staggered in late from varied attempts at prolonging the nights entertainments, fast was broken all across town. Luckily for the crew the first mate had given them the morning to themselves all the better to appear bright eyed that afternoon.
 
Reports are sketchy about what actually occurred in Hope Square from four bells in the middle watch, but confidence is high in finding the missing pages from that days log.
 

4th July 10 - Lympstone Quay

 

4th day of July. Year of Our Lord 2010
Up Another Creek:- Lympstone Quay
Weather:- Heavy Cloud
Wind:- Too Much To Handle
 
As the recently held colonies celebrated their independence from the Crown a rival event got underway in the pretty estuary-side port of Lympstone. This was more a celebration of the brewer’s art rather than an attempt to reduce the turkey & pumpkin stocks of the North American continent.
 
The grounds of the famous Swan Inn were filled to under-flowing as the wind headed towards becoming a baby storm intent on wreaking havoc with the Malarkey mainsail as set by Mr Erra in error. But once festivities had got underway the worthies of Exmouth & Lympstone had swelled the multitude to a highway congesting throng. Even owners of horseless carriages were seen to stop and gawp at the spectacle.
 
The varied ales, as dispensed by the landlord and his helpers, soon began to run low which was probably just as well from an entertainment perspective. Notwithstanding, Betty Stoggs reared her beauteous head once again much to the relief of Mr Cleavage. This enabled him to again read his “poetry” to the masses, even enticing them to join in on the repetitive bits. Methinks Mr Skinner must’ve bunged a few gold florins his way when we was last down Falmouth.
 
As the wind dropped and the capstan fumbled in its traditional manner the crew swayed along with the crowd to refrains old & old, culminating in a show stopping rendition by Tug the Cox of his Rosy Bella. Unfortunately, three of the villagers had not been warned about the imminent arrival of the Malarkey’s crew and they had not made alternative arrangements for the afternoon. At least they were able to report back to their fellow villagers about that never to be remembered afternoon.

20th May 10 - Devon's Big Day Out (I)

 

20th day of May. Year of Our Lord 2010
Up Creek:- Headwater River Clyst
Weather:- Lowering Cloud
Wind:- NNW 2
 
After a tricky feat of navigation to the upper reaches of the River Clyst, Sirius Erra being conspicuous by his lack of assistance, the crew of the Malarkey disembarked alongside an arena dedicated to the display of all things agricultural. The crew should fit in well in this environment.
 
Their presence was required by a mighty organisation responsible for the dissemination of interesting facts and anecdotes amongst the local populace. This to be achieved by the clever use of semaphore signals provided by mobile boxes with glass eyes. The monstrous incarnations of the devil however rely on some electro-trickery, that lack of which causes them to blanche and cease their activities.
 
Indeed, after many hours of careful positioning and warbling and at the crucial moment the sustenance required was brutally cut off. So, unbeknown to the crew, the identity of those that man the Malarkey was again withheld from the population at large.
 
Mutterings of sabotage were heard, once the news had been broken, and dark glances cast in the general direction of the Amis du Pecheurs, now known to be hiding along the North Cornish coast.
 
Tug the Cox found the evening’s only silver lining, namely the vast array of local beers produced & displayed by the county’s finest in their welcoming marquee.
 
Hopefully the morrow will provide a wider exposure, if that is really to be desired!

1st May 10 - Upton Upon Severn

 

1st day of May. Year of Our Lord 2010
At Sea:- Upton Upon Severn
Weather:- Persistently Precipitating
Wind:- N 8
 
At two bells in the Forenoon Watch the schizophrenic Malarkey set out from port destined for the Welsh Marches. It really was a ship of two halves. After beating all morning against a freshening northerly breeze, anchor was dropped close the busy port of Bristol. In fact “Bristols” was on the minds of many of the crew as they strengthened themselves for the second half of the voyage at a quayside chocolate house.
 
Leaving such thoughts behind the convoy struck out once again for the banks of the River Severn. As eight bells sounded the fair riverside port of Upton hove into view. But there was literally no room at the inn. Hoards of strangely dressed figures besported themselves on the streets, performing strange rites often with very real risk to limbs & digits. The hoards were particularly dense outside the Kings Head with five different dances being performed to five different tunes all at the same time.
 
With the stores safely stowed and centre stage safely commandeered the scene was left for the other crews of different vessels to trip over and silently curse.
 
After a quick nibble by the river, a scene not unlike those depicted by the French impressionists, the crew repaired back to the deck so recently cluttered. Full report and voice were given as requested by the shore masters and were received well by what can only be described as a smattering. The smattering grew slowly and come the finale of the matinee a veritable throng had gathered chiefly to keep out of the sun.
 
Then back on to the streets to procure gifts for those left in far off Exmouth and to soak up the local atmosphere. Soak is another word we’ll come across later and not in association with “Old” or “Wayne The Anchor”.
 
Following the aroma of roasting hog, and collecting/waking Wayne en-route, several batches of pig en-croute were consumed before diving for cover into the welcoming embrace of a riverside tavern. Bawdy singing then ensued and a mightily fine hour passed in the company of local worthies and other ship’s crews. The hour was in fact so fine that several onlookers felt moved to close their eyes the more to enjoy the sweet refrain.
 
Then back to the tented arena as the clouds lowered and the sky darkened. As the streets deserted the waters fell from on high in almost biblical manner. Those poor souls forced to spend the evening under sailcloth would wake to find the waters of the world lapping at their toes. They would probably find a severe case of pneumonia as well.
 
The smattering of earlier in the day had evolved to a full blown sparsity but proceedings went ahead nevertheless. As ever these things take time to start and protagonists tend to play their part to the full. But even the numerately challenged should have been able to spot that three time three quarters does not a double make.
 
Unfortunately the quartermaster saw fit to curtail the lads’ most exuberant exuberances as the build up to the finale neared. Gear was gathered and a rapid beeline made back to the Malarkey. However those that endured the storm and found their way back to town passed favourable comment on what they had just seen.
 
Once all was safely stowed in the hold the voyage back to the Exe passed off uneventfully, taking into account the deluge and a serious navigational mistake by the helm of the front half of the Malarkey. Port was fetched long after loved ones had taken to their beds and the ragged edges of the storm had blow away into the south.
 

7th April 10 - Powder Monkey

 

7th day of April. Year of Our Lord 2010
Home Port:-Exmouth
Weather:- Frigid
Wind:- N -3.
 
Rumour has it that a young wench from Exmouth is currently serving in His Majesty’s Navy on the very flag ship no less. Miss Perriam started off her career carrying charges from the magazine to the guns and has not looked back since. What will come of it time will tell, young ladies will end up running these ships one day if a weather eye isn’t kept on their activities. However the proud crew of the Malarkey holds no truck with ancient prejudices and salute her sterling work. To this end they all gathered outside an illustrious establishment, created in young Nancy’s memory, to celebrate the arrival of fine nautical ales to the shores of East Devon.
 
Unfortunately the news had not spread that far, or conversely the local worthies had stuck their noses out the window to be immediately followed by time honoured phrases such as, “ I be bug**** if I be standin around freezing me wurzels off listenin to that rowdy bunch!”.
 
Safe to say the only attendees to the art of harmonised feline throat restricting, were stalwarts who had experienced the same thing many times affore.
 
Luckily the head honchette of said ale house invited our crew within, which whilst briefly enlarging her coffers, lead to a mass exodus of clientele followed by a mass influx of devotees of the art of bladder kicking.
 
But, rising above all odds, and the call of the Bishop of Truro, entertainment was metered out to the mass(es) whether they liked it or no. The only saving grace for those on the safe side of the deck, being the lack of humorous asides which normally accompany these revels. They were down in Cornwall being bounced of the aforementioned Bishop.
 
For completeness of the log it can be stated that the bladder kickers from our industrial heartland will not again be required to perform against their adversaries from the continent.
 
Also for completeness, the master at arms needs to sort out the starboard watch as nowt could be heard from that side of the deck.
 
And, in passing, Lazy Jane is well worth travelling many miles to experience.

6th March 10 - Regil On Sea

6th day of March. Year of Our Lord 2010

All At Sea:- Regil, Abeam Nempnett Thrubwell
Weather:- Kindly
Wind:- SW 1 1/2.
 
After catching the very early afternoon tide, the Malarkey set sail NNE for the vast uncharted reaches of the Somerset Levels. Once them levels had been crossed and various vagabonds retrieved from the clutches of Stevenson’s famous moving kettle, the crew found thereselves in a veritable lost world. So lost in fact that some havens had no resting places for the weary traveller. So lost that Mister Erra had to rely on the good ministrations of mermaids found along the route.
 
However, once port hove into view and the anchor safely dropped, the fortunes of our brave “lads” improved mightily. Exploration soon discovered, amid the halls of King Neptune, a most fabulous cave bedecked in all things pelagic. Even Mr D Jones would have felt at home amongst this splendour.
 
Quickly the crew straightened the Malarkey Bristol Fashion, and, under the guidance of Neptune himself, repaired to the site of his lost Crown! Many entertainments were the enjoyed with Mister Cleavage being most adept at knocking over his nine pints/pins!!
 
But as the mists drew in Regil took on a Brigadoon like quality, causing our wayward wanderer’s to wander waywardly down the wrong way. Only the stern self control of Sam Minella brought the course back under control and enabled the misgivings of Mister Erra to be assuaged.
 
And then to the festivities!
 
As the stream of fabulous undersea creatures entering the cave became a torrent, good voice was given to the throng. Mermaids were awed, Captains captivated, Cardboard Boats caressed, Glitterati gobsmacked and Eliza booked for future commitments. Then, amid the smoke of culinary disasters a banquet took shape. Even the ruffians of the crew, namely our good bosun who is not used to fine dining or so he tells us, were allowed to sample the delights provided. (The Anchorman chiefly delighting in a barrel o’ Butcombe Bitter). Unfortunately our lookout, not being used to the close company on deck or the salty aroma arising from same, was obliged to partake of a frugal meal. Luckily the frugals were of the finest quality.
 
Once Neptune’s guests had been sated they were the then treated to a cacophony of nautical excesses of the most melodious nature. Even Mister Cleavage's most recent comments were treated with an altogether unfamiliar burst of approval and delight. After three years voyaging with the same wry witticisms it is always refreshing to meet those who have been spared the torture of his keen insight!
 
And the finale of all finale’s. As Eliza Lee bounced on to stage, bounced on Seymour’s knee and bounced off home again, the crowd erupted in an outburst of appreciation and disbelief, and significantly failed to throw flowers, gold coin or anything else.

5th March 10 - At Large In Lympstone

 

5th day of March. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Lympstone
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- L & V.
 
After an exciting passage up the Exe, soon to be the title of a new literary masterpiece, the Malarkey dropped anchor less than a cable from the harbour wall of Ye Olde Lympstone Village. A great gathering had been promised by Wayne, the Anchorman, which to everyone’s surprise actually took shape within the halls carefully constructed alongside the local church.
 
Raised above the masses and fairly surrounded by same, the crew gave voice amid discarded paraphernalia and chattels, telling tales of daring doo, recounting loves won and lost , of ships flying and foundering, of captains cruel and contemptuous, of shipmates brave and buxom and humour lengthy and laughable. In fact one of the more prominent guests requested with gusto that the last in the list be de-listed and the festivities continue in their absence.
 
Not to be dissuaded, Mister Cleavage continued apace until a natural break in the weather allowed the crew to take breath over a quart or two.
 
Now within spitting distance of the local worthies the air was filled with the most melodious outpourings despite Old Roger doing his best to ruin the evening. Seymour then surprised all and sundry by selecting a non-local visiting-type lady to grapple with as he delivered his long awaited finale.
 
A fine evening and no doubt, with the lads retiring in the happy knowledge that the roof under which they had served, even for such a short a time as this, is once again assured of continued service, as a roof!

23rd February 10 - Anniversaire Trois

 

23rd day of February. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Ruff
Wind:- Excessive
 
This evening’s ship’s briefing held a surprise for those with short term memory loss. After a couple of struts around the decks holding fictitious onions and assuming an interested crowd be gathered, the lads were let off early and ordered to repair across the road to an adjacent alehouse.
 
Luckily the locals knew what was afoot and had deserted the establishment leaving it free for the crew to realise that it was in fact three years ago to the moment that the call had gone out for sailors of like mind to “Come along for a quick ale and see how it goes”.
 
Of that original gathering some had moved to new postings on different ships and a few to sail oceans rolling over and above this world. New faces had swollen the ranks to leave what we see today, “The Ansomest set of angels ever to sing the seven seas.”
 
And sing they did, till the landlady and her daughter brought to their attention the licensing laws and the vast platters groaning under the weight of foods from the orient and Cornwall.
 
Thus sated, stuffed and still surprised the crew retired with gratitude, chief gratification being the survival of three years of nearly going afloat and getting their hands dirty and the fact that this evening produced no Eliza Lee for Mister Cleavage to have “All on my knee”!

22nd January 10 - Haiti

22nd day of January. Year of Our Lord 2010
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Moderate
Wind:- SW 5.
 
It was with dismay that the crew received tidings of the tremendous shaking of the Earth which had afflicted their brothers on the north coast of Haiti. Hearts went out to those stricken by the quake and to the losses suffered by the inhabitants of Port-au-Prince.
But what to do, how to help?
It was Messrs Tug & Cleavage who had a notion to gather all good fellows with a smattering of musical talent to an evening dedicated to providing succour to those most in need.
With amazing alacrity our Coxswain gathered the musical cream of Devon together and staged an evening of the best entertainment these shores can provide. Entry to the arena elicited many doubloons from those wishing to attend and a lottery game of chance added more gold to the coffers. A final auction of goods and chattels raised the total gathered for the evening to “4381 guineas”. This was sent overseas post haste by our Christian Aid friends who were helping distribute the monies raised to those in most need.
 

21st December 09 - Carousing On The Quay

21st day of December. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Fair To B****** Cold
Wind:- SE 3. 
 
The careening continues apace although the weather be bitterly cold. Them navy lads’d better watch their brass monkeys else the balls’ll be rolling all over the place. Anyway, the crew, being at a loose end, made themselves available for a hearty round of Yuletide singing on the slippery quaysides of Exmouth Docks. Lantern light was provided by Messrs Dixon & Dixon, purveyors of all things nautical and order maintained by the sharp tongue & wit of Mister Cleavage.  The only break with tradition was the surprising attendance of the crew at one of the new chocolate houses after the event, rather than the lads repairing back to the dockside alehouse. Davey Jones’ll be turning in his grave.

19th December 09 - Cockles & Larynx

19th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Poor
Wind:- NNW 7. 
 
If the Bishop had thought yester-eve sublime then what followed the very next day should, in print, be adjective free!
It has recently come to light that young master Webb Ellis has disgraced himself and his school by picking up the bladder during a game of “Foot the Ball”. He then ran with it evidently intending to gain some advantage over his opponents. Behaviour of this kind is only too prevalent in the youth of today and will surely lead to the demise of society as we know it.
And so it proved this very eve as the crew came out second best in a contest of voice with “Future Players” of what Master Ellis had set in train.

18th December 09 - Cathedral Church of St Peter

18th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- City Of Exeter
Weather:- Utopian
Wind:- NNE 0. 
 
It might be said that the singing of the crew of the Malarkey can be likened to, “The Heavenly Host who have pulled out all the stops for the celebrations leading up to the birth of our Lord”, or it might not. But the good burghers of the City of Exeter found enough angelic similarity to invite the lads to be let loose in the sacred grounds of the Cathedral Church of St Peter. Joining with nine hundred & eighty eight other souls, His Grace the Bishop allowed the motley bunch to meander up the chancel singing a sweet medley of some of the less raucous ballads for which they are notorious. Tears were seen glistening on cheeks and a collective sigh rose from the gathered masses once the doors had again been firmly shut.
The boys were dead proud to be part of the “Night of a Thousand Voices”.

7th December 09 - In Dry, or not so Dry Dock

7th day of December. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- SW 3. 
 
The Malarkey now being in dry dock preparing for a good bottom scraping, or careening for those in the know, the entire crew repaired to the Grove Ale House to celebrate the fast approaching birthday of Our Lord.
 
But it was not to be a relaxing evening of untroubled carousing. Wayne, The Anchorman, had devised a fiendish questioning of those of the crew who were not yet in the scuppers. More attention to the lore of the sea and the ways of song masters would have stood the lads in better stead than their normal attention to the wiles of women folk. However, more by dead reckoning than skilful navigation, answers were forthcoming and prizes awarded.
 
Quill the boson had arranged a marvellous spread and the boards near groaned under the weight of fine foods and wines. A team of provenders kept all supplied with vittles and all anticipating what the next surprise might be. A heartfelt thanks goes out from all the crew to those in the galley and to those in the tap room of that mighty enterprise.
 
Also thanks to Mrs Legoff, who had raided her wine cellars to provide the lads & lasses of the Malarkey with Christmas cheer.
 
Fair ‘twas a night to remember!

14th November 09 - Blackmore III

14th day of November. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- WSW 4 -5. 
 
After a storm ridden week the Malarkey put back in to Exmouth ready to collect devotees of the Shanty art in preparation for an evening voyage around Lyme Bay. With only 9 berths remaining she set sail in early evening hoping to return before slippers of glass turned back into various grocery items. So popular was the trip that a couple of colonists returned from Exmouth Western Australia to experience something of the voyage their forebears had had to endure. In fact the crowd were drawn from far and wide, chief of which being the metropolis of Leicester famed for its maritime connections.
 
Earlier that day, before the Blue Peter had been raised, a practice had been arranged in order that the crew did not lose their footings. This was too much for the Anchorman who managed to trip over an uncluttered deck almost ending up in the scuppers.
 
A raucous evening then followed with Abner Clew out on his first voyage and Tug the Cox laid out with yellow fever down below. Nifty steering with the new ship’s wheel saw the Malarkey return to shore on time allowing the crew to avail themselves of the services of those in the Bicton before being turned out into the streets. All passengers returned accounted for and seemed to have gained from the experience.
 
The crew of the Malarkey would like to send a signal of sincere thanks to Messrs Blackmore & Blackmore for providing excellent vittles throughout the day. May their edifice continue to improve and be supported by the populace of this lively port.

27th October 09 - New Home

27th day of October. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Exmouth
Weather:- Fair
Wind:- S 6.
 
And so to a new home.
 
With various changes afoot in the town of Exmouth a new venue was needed for the crew to gather and make good songs old & new.
 
With great generosity and greater foolhardiness the captain of the Grove Ale House, located but a seagull’s squawk from the ocean strand, agreed to allow the above motley gathering to take place every Tuesday evening. (Except for the 3rd Tuesday in the Month. On those evenings the crew gather at a local boarding house on The Beacon to join others in the singing of folk songs.)
 
Secret meetings will be held initially but from about 21:30 the crew will gather in the public areas to sing their hearts out and entertain any lost souls ostensibly out for a quiet evening. All are welcome to attend and to sing along with your favourite ditties.
 
It was at one of these meetings that Bob, the cabin boy, revealed that he was featured in a series of 12 etchings designed to mark the passage of the year 2010, but why he needed to cuddle a Christmas tree in December he would not divulge. Suffice to say these etchings are on sale from the various worthies of Lympstone, with all gold being passed to local good causes.

11th October 09 - Still In Port Harwich

11th day of October. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Harwich
Weather:- Low cloud & light precipitation, visibility good occasionally poor.
Wind:- SW 3.
 
A grim sky greeted a sombre crew who tumbled from their hammocks somewhat later than sunrise.
 
The main discourse that morn was whether the weather be conducive to giving voice afloat, alongside pontoons masquerading as some type of safe haven for small sailing craft.
 
With an astute sense of timing, coffee was finished as the last of the drizzle blew away to the east revealing a still leaden sky but with the promise of a fair afternoon.
A slippery concourse lead down to the Tug Boat “Fenland” and an even slipperier gang plank gave the crew access to the cramped deck space. All navigated this minefield safely until Mr Albert Truss, late of the “Mastership” of several large galleons, came a cropper, severely damaging his lower limbs. If only he’d had more experience of smaller craft.
 
A crowd soon thronged the pontoon and were treated to a right royal awakening despite the inclemency of the weather. Incoming and outgoing boat’s crews also joined in the merriment making the whole affair a morning to remember.
 
Luncheon was taken in the shanty town of Dovercourt where another group of devotees to the furtherance of sailing techniques had laid out a superb spread which was thoroughly enjoyed by all comers. Unfortunately, “all comers”, included the notorious Tracey who was roughly dragged to the fore and forced to endure the attentions of Mister Cleavage. Songs were sung, tales told and promises of devotion made. Well, at least a promise to call in to Exmouth Docks when cruising the western approaches.
 
With bones thoroughly warmed and bellies thoroughly satisfied the crew near ran to their next & last tryst with Harwich. This was to be on the main quay of the Ha’penny Pier and with some trepidation the crew unfurled their banners. But fears were soon allayed as the crowds poured out of their boarding houses to join the gathering throng which included many of the other crews who had come ashore especially for this event.
 
And then back on board ship. The jolly boat was loaded with all goods, chattels & booty and the Malarkey with personnel. A notable exception being the Anchorman, who was off across the North Sea to terrorise the Dutch coast with bawdy songs & risqué anecdotes. But that tale this log does not tell.
 
The passage home was uneventful although beating down the channel against the prevailing wind and through a whole host of small craft, took a lot longer than had been estimated. But once the Fairway Buoy had been rounded the crew were not long kept from their loved ones and soft fluffy towels.

10th October 09 - In Port Harwich

10th day of October. Year of Our Lord 2009
In Port:- Harwich
Weather:- Sunny spells, good visibility.
Wind:- Variable 2
 
Fast was broken heartily this morning, with rumours of cold cuts and fancy breads being proven wrong, with the arrival of mountains of bacon and unexpected sausage from the galley.
 
Once the crew had been collected together by the bosun’s application of wit & sarcasm, plans were laid over coffee in that fine ale house “The Stingray”. The only plan of note therein, was drawn up by Mister Erra, outlining the detailed internal layout of “The Harwich Society for the Furtherance & Improvement of Sailing Techniques”. Our gear was later to be stowed there and the lads didn’t want to place it erroneously under the admiral’s hammock.
 
Runners were then sent to locate the smallest tavern in Harwich, The Globe Inn. Once ensconced therein the crew found that room was only left for the proverbial man & dog. However & notwithstanding, a jovial and enjoyable morning was had by all with the dog contributing a lap of the bar in our honour.
 
Trawling the deserted streets of Harwich netted only one catch of worth that noontide. A quiet backwater leads past the home of the notorious Tracey of Harwich who pounced on the unsuspecting crew and dragged them into her abode. Paintings were then made of the scene possibly for future extortionate behaviour. These are now on sale from Amazon traders in plain paper wrappers.
 
The afternoon watch proceeded slowly with the crew repairing to an edifice built to defend the realm against the worst ravages of Boney Napoleonpart. The garrison must have had rumour of our approach as every man jack had deserted their post. This left the fort manned by a purveyor of hot beverages and two likely “lads” giving voice to empty ramparts.
 
However, once the Exmouth Crew had finished applying the goose grease to ward off sun burn and other maladies, the inmates of various dungeons poured out of their cells to listen to tales of hardship, cruelty and love lost n found. Once six bells in the afternoon watch had sounded they all ran back to Her Majesty’s accommodation, which possibly held more attraction than what had just transpired.
 
Our gallant lads then repaired to the “Harwich Society for the Furtherance & Improvement of Sailing Techniques” buildings located on the seaward side of the peninsula from whence the Orwell flows in to the North Sea.
 
With the gear safely stowed the local street urchins were treated to a sample of the endeavours which were to follow later that eve. Eyebrows were raised and all tickets previously bought rapidly put back on the black market.
 
And thence to supper, where generous cuts of meat were served with fine wines and spirits by the proprietor, & his ever vigilant assistant, of the Bear eating house. Many shillings lighter and in need of strong coffee the crew made their unsteady way back to the coast.
 
In the dim lit halls of the HSftF&IoST, the festivities were already underway. Sailors from the margins of the North Sea were in fine voice to the general approval of the assembled company. Spirits were then dampened somewhat as tales of doom & gloom, depicting life on the not so sunny North Sea, brought a melancholic air to young and old. The tide turned abruptly as boys from the Exe, to thunderous applause and the occasional thunderous silence, gave good account of themselves. The crew overcame all obstacles, chiefly in the guise of inebriated officials and verbose members of the performing arts, and gained the respect of their eastern colleagues.
 
Well received & well watered the crew retired to the various bawdy houses from whence they had set forth this morn. On returning to “The Stingray” the Anchorman was seen to require support from one of the local lasses. Unfortunately the lady in question turned out to be the landlord’s daughter who took a dim view to the above close contact, nearly resulting in half the crew being thrown into the gutter. Platitudes & promises of respectability saw them re-instated and treated to the finest of Port wines. Its chief benefits being the unusually low cost and the comeliness of the serving personnel.
 
Once the entertainment provided for the youth of Harwich had subsided the crew somehow found their way to their hammocks and failed to fall out for the rest of the night.

9th October 09 - In Port Exmouth

Malarkey.
9th day of October. Year of Our Lord 2009.
In Port:- Exmouth.
Weather:- Rain, visibility less than a cable.
Wind:- SW 7 to Gale 8.
 
Malarkey left dock at 5 bells in the forenoon watch with Mr Minella at the helm. Sam reported an extended passage towards the east coast port of Harwich with vessels slow moving around the notorious bottleneck of North Foreland. So slow in fact that the anchor was dropped enabling the crew to break their fast at their leisure. After a passage of some 95 leagues Harwich was fetched at 4 bells in the first dog watch.
 
Signals later received suggested that the crew didn’t take long to repair to a quayside hostelry. In a trip of about a week, with nothing to relieve the monotony, days seemed like hours. Even a series of moving etchings from “My Italian Mother” did nothing to ease the boredom.
 
Mister Cleavage & Master Heights departed later that morning in the Jolly Boat laden with contraband and, after only a brief diversion via the Dorset coast, arrived, via a more rapid fetch around the South Foreland, at 2 bells in the first watch.

1st October 09 - Welcome Aboard

Here continues the log of the good ship Malarkey, being the 1st day in the month of October in the year of Our Lord 2009, also being the 57th year of the reign of our sovereign, Queen Elizabeth II.
 
The original logs were lost overboard in the Great Summer Storm, during which our crew were too afeared to rescue the contents of the Captain’s cabin from the tempestuous sea. In fact they were too afeared to leave the wheel house & get wet.
 
If only Roger, the cabin boy, had bolted his sea chest firm, the records of previous voyages would be available for inclusion herein. This not only lost us valuable reminiscences but lost Roger his position. But every cloud has its silver lining as rapid promotion sees him now the master of his own vessel, the “Falmouth Fish”. A run down craft with a young and motley crew who are mostly obsessed with a wench going by the name of Betty Stoggs. Embarrassed by his misdemeanours on board the Malarkey, Roger changed his name to Dick, thus avoiding the current owners’ potential displeasure.
 
But we digress.
 
The oceans are currently at peace and trade is flourishing between the ports of the World. Some piratical activity has been reported in the Arabian Gulf, but the French Navy has managed to repel recent attacks. Although what they were doing at Trafalgar………..?