Books to buoy your spirits
Dig deep into classic onboard literature and you might just find a way out of this mess
I’ve not been idle. I’ve just finished reading but to be honest the 864 pages weren’t so funny the third time round, and there aren’t even any pictures. As for Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, I don’t want to spoil it for you, but the title’s a bit of a spoiler – it totally gives the ending away. Thus, not only does it break the first rule of... (dot, dot, dot... pause) suspense, it’s this critic’s opinion that the covers are too far apart. But that could actually be a good thing... (dot, dot, dot... pause).
It’s taken as read that PBO readers will be familiar with both these books. No maritime library is complete without them. In fact, they are indispensable, and never more so than in the unlikely certainty of going aground.
In such circumstances, the normal procedure is to panic, but under no circumstances should you give up and start reading either of these books.
For even though great works of literature can buoy your spirits, they can in fact do even more – as they’ll prevent your boat from falling over if you lash them to the rail before the water goes away. What’s more, as Decline and Fall has six volumes you can fashion several pairs of splatchers to walk ashore across the mud (see next month’s Practical Projects).
That just leaves you the thorny problem of what to read in the two-week wait for the next spring tide – or six months if you’ve got it really wrong.
To that end, I’ve just discovered an incredibly rare work that very few leisure sailors, if any, will have read. It’s called… (dot, dot, dot... pause) A Seaman’s Guide
‘A Seaman’s Guide to the Rule of the Road has totally transformed my thinking and entire world view’
Which Sounds Just a Little Bit Sexist to Me (the last bit’s an observation, not part of the actual title, and I’ve no idea why the editor inserted random capital letters).
As there’s nothing I deplore more than social injustice its very title enraged me almost as much as Swallows and Amazons, which you might think was written with the express intent of making any kid without rich parents boil with resentment (although the characters’ stupid names are always good for a laugh).
Nevertheless, I overcame my sensibilities, and actually prised open the yellowed cellophane wrapper of
A Seaman’s Guide to the Rule of the Road. I thought at first this might be a grave mistake, as a work of such rarity is probably even more collectible in its original, intact packaging.
How wrong I was. It was an eye-opener, a game-changer in fact, right up there with The Essex Girl Joke Book.
In fact, like The Essex Girl Joke Book, it’s totally transformed my thinking and entire world view. For example, I never even knew that I wasn’t the ‘stand-on vessel’. In fact I never even knew there was a ‘stand-on vessel’, but there really is, and apparently it’s the other one. This will be explained more fully next month, with words, arrows and diagrams and wot-not on a page adjacent to an advert for comprehensive boat insurance cover.
What with having a bit of time on my hands I’ve now memorised the entire 457 pages of the Rule of the Road, which may surprise you, but surprises me even more as I thought my brain was already full after memorising The Essex Girl Joke Book.
I suppose there could be a danger that the two get a bit mixed up, and if they do you’ll read about it in next month’s Learning from Experience, which will be adjacent to an advert for a carpet golf putting machine.
Yet my endeavours have not stopped there. I have now decided to devote my remaining time on earth to translating the Rules of the Road in its entirety, as it’s high time there was an English-language version of this little known classic. Its working title is The Ultimate Bumper Book of Sailing Club Pub Quiz Questions and Answers and How to Start a Fight in Aid of the RNLI
(the last bit’s not an observation but part of the title).