Poor Dileas

Oh no!

Sitting in the lounge in Charles de Gaulle  on my way home, I get this.

“The peak of the typhoon last night (it went straight over us) coincided with a high tide. There is sand over several low-lying parts of the road this morning.

That being the case, I thought I’d better go and see how your boat fared. The first bit of bad news is, it was no longer there―nada. We had pulled it as far up into the gap as we could and chained it to the rock. Well, the chain was still there…

So, I walked a bit further down the beach and, lo and behold, good news! There was your boat, firmly jammed into that little crevice that leads to the next beach.

The next bad news: it had clearly had a very rough night, and it is going to take a lot of work with a sander and a fiberglass repair kit to make it seaworthy again.”

Hot tears drip onto my keyboard.

Hot tears drip onto my keyboard.

Notwithstanding, had it been me who pulled Dileas up into Dead Man’s Gulch, I would undoubtedly have done a much lazier job than my friends and the Typhoon would have blown her off to Bali.

Oh dear,oh Dileas.

Cha b’e là na gaoithe là nan sgolb.

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5 Responses to Poor Dileas

  1. ZedMac says:

    oh nooooo…poor Dileas…whose name I have again forgotten how to pronounce. Hrrr. I wonder how you are getting on with your peregrinations. Great to see you. xxxxxx

  2. Rosemary says:

    Gus am bris an là.

  3. Alan says:

    Shame about Dileas. Look on the bright side; you’ll get to know her lovely curves so much better as you mend her wounds. Is there no way that you can drag her further away from the water when typhoons loom?

  4. calder Ian says:

    It is truly amazing – that which can be done with glass fibre, epoxy and plywood. We’ll see, in the immortal maternal words.

  5. Pingback: Candle in the Wind | The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

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