A Message from Texas Pete

Hey all,
Multi-medic Texas Pete has been stabbed in the back by all his technological equipment recently but is slowly recovering in a Portugese institution for fragmented bloggers.

By all accounts the treatment is going well and normal service should be resumed shortly.

As you can see, the surrounding area of the Texans demise is of outstanding natural beauty.
Texas Pete tells me that it is going to be difficult catching up on all the adventures in 'past-tense' However, He endeavours to persevere with the BEST BLOG ON THE GODDAM PLANET.
so before the technology decides to present further troubles, I, (Texas Petes' Spokesperson) will as asked send unending amorous vibrations to those he left behind.

The Wedding of The Year

Photo 1; Mr and Mrs Rolfe
Photo 2; Some wedding fodder - Very nice it was too.
Photo 3; Another fine woman off the market!

The Marriage of Sir Christopher Rolfe to Dame Claire Hill was so exclusive that neither Hello, OK, Womans Weekly nor Razzle magazines were present to expoit the photo shoot. I, however, was present to exploit the situation and publish hundreds of photos on this ere blog but on the day I experienced major power performance issues on my recently purchased Samsung D-860, which meant that all I have to show you are 3 rather unprofessional images from The Wedding of The Year. So sorry about that, since then, my new digital camera has failed on me entirely- ASDA/WALMART have fallen short of their customer promise and guarantee and I can't even vent my anger towards them as I have returned to Portugal since, Total Scum shite corporate liars. 'Thank You for shopping with us. We hope that you are fully satisfied with your product, If you have any problem with your product then this over produced pamphlet (PAMPHLET! funny word- more than funny- A little Pam- Pamela vacated the area rapidly on her 50cc scooter- please send me your opinion of Pamphlet- There will be prizes!!) contains your 1 year unconditional ASDA ARE SO BRILL guarantee. Fuckin Liars. Now I am a liar thanks to them, how can I seriously call myself multi-media Texas Pete if I havent a camera. Life really sucks sometimes, and then your mates get married and you have a real good time with LOADS of old mates that haven't been seen for years. We've all grown up now- a little maybe - but characters never change. I could of stayed for an eternity in the refurbished headland fort that hosted the ceremony and reception.
Even though we all wander through life choosing various paths, experiencing different thrills of euphoria, different times of hardships and struggles, I can honestly say that I had forgotten how good friendships never tarnish, there were so many faces from my/our past, an infinite amount of memories came flooding back.
WERE THOSE MEMORIES REALLY MINE???
WAS IT ME WHO HAD ALL THAT FUN ????
I feel as if it was someone else, I guess it's easy to overlook ones past as one plies into the future.
On the walls of the fort, there were photo collages of Claire and Chris' friends, we all looked so young - innocently plundering the world around us.
To Claire and Chris - Thank you for everything, I truly did not want to leave that oasis of love that surrounded your precious day. Thank You also for the photo collage - It did more than give a snapshot into our pasts, It reminded me of who I am, where I came from, the friends I have stomped streets with, the same friends that I still have. I was, and still am very moved by the whole occasion. Most definately the best flight I ever did take.
To everyone else, in and not in that collage, Thank You for being my friend. xxxxxxx
As I have already stated, I could of stayed at the wedding forever but I had to get back to Newquay to get my bag and return to Exeter for my flight back to Faro to continue with
THE NAUTICAL ADVENTURES OF TEXAS PETE

I have a feeling that I won't be back to England for awhile. Touch wood, one of these days I will be in a position to invite you all out to my place,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,Wherever that may end up being.

Ladies and Gentlemen, raise your glasses to the Bride and Groom,

Mr and Mrs Rolfe.

XXX

Back To Blighty Almighty

May I first of all apologise to everybody that I did not get around to visiting whilst at home, as you will read my 20 days of vacation from nautical adventures were pretty much filled with the intentional and of course the unintentional exploits of Multimedia Texas Pete.
The old expression come to mind,

'How can I control my life when I cant control my hair'

The first impression of returning home was of course the airport.
After 3 months of living on the edge of civilisation, dealing with those who also exist outside the tabloid lifestyle of western culture my blood pressur rose as soon as the first overweight sunburnt Brit barged past me to the chocolate in the duty free lounge.
After a deep breath I chose expensive truffles for Mother, 200 superkings for Father, leaving enough Euros for 5 packs of Amberleaf rather than the 10 Golden Virginia that I was hoping to a.Distribute amongst my needy peers
b. Inhale myself over the coming dose of British summer

On arrival back to The O'Connor Ranch in Newquay, my Mother looked particulary strong considering the dehabilitating health circumstances that She has been through in the previous 7 months, however, thankfully, since my departure on April 14th three months had past and an obvious three months of improvement had been quietly going on.

I think my Dad was in shock as I handed over the 200 smokes, the last time I came home from my travels bearing gifts was 1992.

A bacon sandwich and several cups of tea later my head hit the soft deep feathers of the spare rooms pillows. aaaaaaaaa!!!

The following day my folks weren't up to doing much so to my rescue, riding his Toyota Pick-up ( A.K.A. Land Rover Recovery Vehicle) strode Sir Graham of the Clan Burt to carry me away to the south coast where beautiful guitars lay restless in anticipation of the standby button being flicked to ON at another Doris Day Parking rehearsal at the Troubadour Studios Falmouth.

Hardly suprising that the boys had indeed improved as I sat listening and doing what every good roadie should do, ROLL.

With my ears and lungs full of the life I was once accustomed to we retired in preparation for the following days big outing.

THE PASTY SHOPPE

YES, YES, YES, MORE, MORE, LICK THOSE WARM FLOWING JUICES FROM YOUR CHIN AS YOU CHOW DOWN FOR MORE CORNISH SKIRT DRIPPING THE UNMISTAKEABLE FLAVOUR OF A CORNISH MAIDS SUCCESFULL ENDEVOURS. ok. enough of that, no time to do it again

DORIS DAY PARKING HAD A GIG !!!exclamations!!!

- A BIG ONE- !!!!even more exclamations!!!!

Supporting the AUSTRALIAN PINK FLOYD IN NEWQUAY- shit the bed.

I could tell the boys were a little twitchy as the night previously they actually coherently REHEARSED.

A Texas pep talk wasnt needed, they were in the zone

so with a honorary roadies pass, I was going too!

The consumate professional that I am, I arrived before the rest of THE BAND with enough plectrums to warrant my entry backstage to the greatest show on earth.

When I say I arrived before the band, not strictly true.

Graham (the guitarist) drove me (the roadie) to the gig but I still had plectrums.

With an estimated 2000 crowd the boys arrived and set up in the huge marquee-bigtop-massive tent on the Newquay Barrowfields.

Barrowfields, of course, being Barrow lands, in other words ancient burial grounds, Fuck the wierd shit, just play it loud boys, they cant hear ya down there!!!

Photo; Doris Day Parking on a really big stage.

I have tried to upload video of the boys in action but they are just too hot so hopefully soon I will attach a link for you to follow, Cool or what.

Unfortunately there were only a couple of hundred people at the venue as the boys played the early slot of 6.00 and the sun was out so most ticket holders for the event were still sunning themselves on the golden North coast beaches, I'm sure they still heard the band though, It was a memorable gig for me. Hats off to Doris Day Parking.

The following week was well chilled, just Graham, Arthur (Grahams Dog) and I, working on Grahams land in St. Austell, funnily enough after working the Lagos boatyard in 40 degree heat I found that I was burning in St. Austell!! O-ZONE MAN or the lack of. Whilst on the subject of the environment that we share, I would like to recommend a documentary called AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH. get your hands on a copy, That's it for preaching about what we already know and don't do fuck all about. Rant done. Yep.

TODAY IS GONNA BE THE DAY THAT THEY'RE GONNA MAKE LOADSA DOUGH.

Thanks Noel, Thanks Liam, Lord Tim Horner (a.k.a. Angry Youth, remember him?) and myself have made shedloads on the streets with Wonderwall. I promised myself (and Noel when I met him in a Newquay sports shop) that I'd stop playing it but me and Tim had a buskers reunion and still, after all these years, it's what the lager lout stag do's wanna sing to so an hour of G,Em,C and D £50 each it's off to the boozer when suddenly THE MEETING OF THE EX!!!!!! Why do ex girlfriends wanna stay friends eh? I mean why? what's the point! It's already been established that there is no future so ,,,,, Someone help me out on this one. Being in a happy frame of mind I couldn't bring myself to tell her go home to your Husband! so onwards to the rubbish (usedtobe) cheap nightclub for a booze. She said She's put on weight, I say Shes lookin great and so it continued sat outside on the grass, on the grass until the sun came up. TRIFFIC!

I miss her.

Next up comes a day that I would rather hide from. Instead I'm gonna plaster it across the web as an educational supplement for

VERY NAUGHTY CHILDREN WHO JUST REFUSE TO GROW UP

It's high summer in Cornwall, all the kids are having fun, all the festivals are in town and 3 of my 4 brothers and sisters are going to Watergate Bay to get on down to the Stereo MCs and support, I join my brother and sisters and assorted friends, stock-up with a few crates of strongbow (courtesy of Don't Look Back in Anger) and a sherry for the girls (tee hee) and head for the beach to dance and frolic and drink and generally let our hair down. Whilst at the beach I bump into a couple of old team-mates from the Cornish Cup winning team of Godolphin Atlantic A.F.C. . . .Wonderful, Dancing and singing and falling about in the sand , What a giggle.

I'll refrain from mentioning the offending dealer of the completely legal Herbal High tablet that was administered to yours truly. For the sake of modern science I swallowed.

Well What Happened Was............

From an innocent day of gay (easy now) abandon, being buried in sand by the local rug rats (The local bobby refused to assist), performing acrobatics with visiting Brazilian students (my older brothers Brazilian English student) and generally smiling alot, Yours truly, MultiMedia Texas Pete was off his proverbial fuckin tits!

The Stereo MCs were gettin connected, I was getting connected to the Stereo MCs, especially the backing singers, well, one of the backing singers in particular. Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls everywhere, I was lost in space and in Love. My herbal tinted specs stopped the world from turning and I wanted to get myself, I wanted to get myself, I wanted to get myself connected at the groin to mrs pineapple head over yonder.

Now as luck would have it at the end of the show, someone (only God knows who, and why!) told me the band were in the tour bus in the car park. with love in my heart I went to say thank you, I love you, Have my babies.

The six-four Security Guard (6-4 being his IQ of course) had other ideas, but made one terrible error. Through the tinted windows of the tour bus, sillhouetted against the light was mrs pineapple head, unless she had a hairdo double like rockstars do.

"They're not on the bus" said 6-4 . As we all know, a man in love is not to be lied to, and the games began. Being mightily more spritely than 6-4, a game of kiss chase began with off yer face Texas playing knock down ginger with the tour bus to gain the attention and that possible incy wincy moment of eye contact with Miss MCs.

Mr. 6-4 then cheated, a liar and a cheat, what a bitch. Up strolled reinforcements in the guise of the local Bobby who didn't wanna play sandcastles earlier but wanted to play with me now. I wouldn't let him, I was possessed.

The ride to the station was a comfortable one, nice wide seats, clean upholstery etc. Here is where I must say a big YO to the Custody Sergeant (the fella behind the desk when you arrive) who in his years of policing probably realised that mine was obviously a crime of passion and was very leniant. Indeed we chatted, I told him of my travelling No Fixed Abode status and of my blog to prove it and seconds later, there it was ! on his computer screen. We chatted, Regie's a blogger too, we went out back and smoked roll-ups and drank coffee and after half an hour in Her Majesties accomodation I was free. Back in town before my brother and sisters who had to wait an eternity for a regular taxi of their own. So thanks Regie, on return to my blog, He has left a comment for all to read attached to the entry PHOTOS VIDEOS AND STORIES wishing my Mum well and good luck on my adventures. Regie has just completed a John 'o' Groats to Lands End solo charity bike ride so if anyone wants to donate to his charity then send to Regie, Newquay Police Station, Cornwall. Nice one Regie

Of all the poxy stunts I've been arrested for in the past, this one must beat them. Who of you remember when I made the Papers in 1999? Page 4 of the Guardian 'TROUSER DROPPERS HARRASS WOMEN' read the two inch headlines referring to what is commonly known as 'pulling a moony'. I smile in jest whilst under it all there is a very serious message. A.Herbal Highs are well dodgy and B. Dont play Wonderwall cause Karma's gonna land you in a whole heap 'o' doo dooze. just look at Noel and Liam.

JUST SAY NO.

Whilst obviously being safer at sea, Texas Pete still had 10 days of land to navigate safely. This was achieved by grounding myself playing gemstones with my big sister. Off to The Maker Festival we went. Situated on the stunning Rame peninsula, South-West of Plymouth, spending time with my siblings was one of my intended directions to take while at home and here I was accomplishing something that I set out to do, what could possibly go wrong?

THE MAKER SUNSHINE FESTIVAL

We arrived at the Maker Sunshine Festival site in good time for organising the jewellery stand for the weekend. With the festival site being on a peninsula protruding into the English Channel, the weather, sunshine or no was gonna at least be windy, promising rain and maybe a ray or two of sunshine. Wellies at the ready, the construction of the stall went well in the dry and the merchandising of stock brought in the night and without inclination to erect a tent we slept in the market stall.The location that the organisers had given us for a 3x3 metre plot was only 2.5meters wide, leading to two of the four marquee legs being half a metre into the tarmac track, I looked at the tarmac, stared at the chunky pegs supplied with the marquee and wondered why I hadnt brought my power tools with me to erect a 3x3metre marquee! The remaining two legs were positioned beside a farm building with roughly 2 inches of topsoil to insert 8 inch of tent peg! awning lines and bungees and random buckets of scaffold clips held the whole show down. It's a festy, just make do the best ya can. My sister was scratching her head too and so as positively as I could said "it's a festy, let's just make of it the best we can.Running through the 3x3 plot we were given, ran the storm drain facilities, full of mud and hay and crud and general country life so I cleared them as best I could, not of course havin packed my shovel to erect a 3x3 marquee. An eventual pointless task as the stall downhill from us were already set up over their section of blocked rain channel. I'll refrain from spelling it out. My younger sister Kerry and Ohana, a family friend, had also travelled down with us and returned from the camping area asking if they could assist with anything but we had done as much as we could for that evening and decided on an early night as trading at festivals is a long day and there were 4 days of it to follow. So with plastic sheeting, blankets and sleeping bags we slept on the lumpy uneven area of land that was home til Monday.Not long after we discovered that my sisters new trading marquee was showerproof and not waterproof.Drip drip drip triffic, Come the morning my sister (Bo), the stock, the floor the blankets sleeping bags and I were sodden.I'm sure Bo would've called it a day and gone home if I wasn't there to help, I'm sure I would've called it a day and gone home if I hadn't of been there to help, we soldiered on getting slapped by wet flapping marquee awnings, jewellery boards constantly falling like dominos. What a mess.Fortunately, Bo had friends in a local village and we returned from Jason and Jaquelines with a large tarpaulin and Jaqueline was an angel tumbledrying our sleeping bags later on that day. With a reinforced stall and punters arriving we were in better spirits although the recently painted displays were somewhat tatty. It's a festival, no-one gives a damn I reassuringly insisted.It was not long after that the glands in my throat began to swell. The excesses of the previous week followed by a saturated sleep were catching up with me.

Photo; The jewellery boards were safer outside the sodden market stand gazebo thang.

The sun came out briefly, we dried the stall et al briefly but by now I could not swallow or speak. I was officially ill with three days in a windy rainy field to look forward to. What a bitch, The Falmouth Massive were at the festival providing the all night large facilities, The Heathens were playing the following day, Ruarri Joseph was playing the main stage, Dreadzone were doin their thing and all the wonderful world foods and general festival mayhem to be had and I was inna cold sweat. Balls.Of more concern to myself was if this illness worsens then I would miss Tuesdays wedding. With head throbbing I watched The Heathens' set and sadly, unable to play with my friends I retired to the car and held my head as the large bass rig shuddered through the car and my brain while I drifted in and out of sleep.I tried to man the stall as best I could, but with no powers of speech and a head like a hammer I wasn't being very benificial, Sunday night could not come soon enough, It came, we packed up the carnage and arrived home in the early hours and prepared to do it all again in the morning at the Boardmasters on Fistral beach. I'm sure life never used to be such a fuckin mission.

BOARDMASTERS

Strict instructions from the organisers, be at the site between 7 and 9 am because vehicles weren't allowed onsite thereafter. So at 7.05 I arrive before Bo in a taxi carrying stock to be informed that no vehicles were allowed on site until the skip lorry had done it's thing. Twats, I had to carry all the jewellery boards in the wind and rain while trying to find the organisers while explaining to security officers that I'm tryin to find which stall I'm at "Hey Boys, why don't you be secure security and watch this lot while I organise an organiser. What a crock of shit.

A 3metre x 1.5metre area was the designated plot of real estate that Bo had forked out £800 quid for. The privilege of mixing with Newquays corporate elite. Very very fortunately, the people we were to share the 3 metre x 3 metre tent with were an animal activist lot and didnt need their space to trade as they were walking around with clipboards for the duration so a whole 3x3 plot of Fistral car park was ours!!

Wind and rain came of course, it was August. Half hour later Bo arrives with all the rants that I had for the previous half hour been thinking of ranting but had no-one to rant at. Eventually a promised table had arrived and we could start turning this piece of car park into a shop. Trade was slow but there was some trade, I went home in the afternoon to organise another table as the organisers had no more even though I could see some! So off home to steal the garden furniture and return in time to help pack away.

Up the next morning for much the same but I couldn't stick around for too long,,,,,

I HAD A WEDDING TO GET TO

Tune in soon for THE WEDDING OF THE YEAR, the day Mr. Chris Rolfe broke the hearts of thousands of chicks worldwide.

I've been a busy boy back in Portugal so I promise to get up to date with my blog very soon.

Multi-media Texas Pete says Chao for Now

You guys can check out Doris Day Parking on MySpace- incidentally.

xx

Texas Takes Lagos (Volume 2)

Photo; Johannas and I having a terrible time in Babylon.

Photo; Dave works hard rolling roll-ups, not rolling paint onto the yacht.



Ten days later, more than 200 hours spent on Anasus' hull I even found a little time to attend to the hull of a German girl by the name of Eva, however, when she asked
"What shall I cook for dinner tonight darling?"
Multi-media Texas Pete was gone!!!

Had to attend to other more pressing matters.

My Skipper, The Doc, was due back from Southampton the following night, The Good Lady Fisher had been simply a place to rest and eat for the duration of the works in hand and needed some interior attention herself, surfaces need to be polished prior to The Return of The Doc!

Anasu needed just 'one more push' to finish before the increasing heat dried her completely and left her as a pile of old bones.


Photo; Anasu after priming

Besides, after 10 days of bad coffee from the machine in the boatyard, I had just found the button that provided a long strong sweet cappucino for 40 European centimes.
I had far more pressing engagements than getting engaged to the lovely Eva, no matter how handsome was her transom.


Photo; Varying Degrees of Completion


Photo; Dave puts His fag out and applies the finishing touches, I did the rest!


At last came the morning of the launch, I was late!!!
After a hedonistic night of undying passion

I eventually freed myself from the Germanic talons and was late for the re-launching of Anasu.
Only 5 minutes too late but GODDAMN.

Dave was already steering Anasu back round to the Marina where I met up with him and apologisingly celebrated with a big fry-up and pint in the Lazy Jacks Bar.

The Doc returned to a clean Lady Fisher, Dave payed up the balance for my work,

Our next move was to Alvor a short way down the coast,

My next move , while I had the cash in my pocket, was to book a flight home to the Marriage of Mr. Chris Rolfe and Ms Claire Hill.

Alvor was beautiful, but after waking on the yacht, a dinghy to town, a bus to the railway station, a train to another town another bus to the Airport.

With Three clicks of my Ruby Red DCSHOECOMPANY heels,

Multi-media Portugeezer Texas Painting Pete was flying home

Texas Takes Lagos (Volume 1)

Photo; Never too busy to create on two hobs

Photo; The poor old Hull of Anasu- Gimme Some Lovin'
Photo; Lots of Scraping Later............

Photo; THE BOYS; L-R Incidental German Bloke Holgar, Johannas The Large, Senor Dave and The Portugeezer Pete with Portugeezer Moustache.

The Lagos Days,
The Doc returned to Southampton for a fortnight, leaving Dave, Johannas and Myself to the rigors of Babylon, Full English Breakfasts, Happy Hour Pints of Portugese Lager and Girls Girls Girls.
No time for loving in the Algarve. 'ANASU' Daves beloved Old Wood Boat needed all the love we had to spare.
In the 35 degree heat ANASU was lifted out of the water and the removal of 40 years of anti-fouling on her hull commenced.
As a result of the heat, the timbers of Anasu were going to dry out FAST.
We had a selection of fine scrapers and an English Pub 'LAZY JACKS' to keep us powered up with real bacon and sausages and beans.
Lazy Jacks Bar also gave me the opportunity to play my dulcit tones for the Lagos Massif at open mic nite, leading to 'Joao and Malcolm' (artisan musicians from The School of Dramatic Artisan Bohemian Dramatic Musician Society Instituted Darlings) inviting me to play on their own night at the pub which lead to 'Kai' (University of I'll watch the tele whilst hacking out busking classics at maximum volume, the correct lyrics don't mean a damn if I'm still getting paid after all these years, I ROCK Society) inviting me to play my toons whilst he took a spliff break round the corner behind the bins. Sadly reminding me of me at my very worst!!!! Although my lack of an unfortunate lisp made me feel better about not being quite as bad as Kai at my Very worst,, and my interlude jokes are infinately funnier. Lisp or no.Photo; Joao, Malcolm and I, Kai in the background chin on hand (charismatic fellow!!)
So inbetween all this newfound local fame, Anasu needed stripping, filling, priming, repairing, painting, polishing and LOVING.
Johannas helped for a couple of days repairing the rudder but apart from that it was up to Mr David Coady (remember the fella who gave me a beer on arrival in La Coruna while I was containing my desire to inflict pain on my original skipper Paddy- Captain Cock) well thats Dave.
From now on He shall be referred to as Dave.
Cyberspace wants me to publish now, Volume 2 of Texas Takes Lagos following Dreckly.


Log on to see the NEW ANASU in glorious Technicolor

Photos, Videos and Stories.

Check out whose driving! This was in Cascais, The most expensive marina so far. The coastal resort for playboys and girls from Lisbon.
I met a cool Brazilian hippy couple who had been in Portugal for a fortnight with little handmade gems and a guitar, We hooked up, played some funky beach vibes and made €20, they were stoked having never made that kind of wedge since arriving. I have a video of William but unfortunately it's too many Megabytes to upload.

I have been meeting so many quality musicians on this trip that I have a dream of bringing them all to England for a tour, maybe one day.
Alrighty then, back to sailing.
The Voyage down as follows, Leiceos, Cascais, Peniche, Sines. It was in Sines that we caught up with an Irish lad 'Dave' who was the fella who gave me a cool beer when I was feeling like throttling my old skipper Paddy in La Coruna, He departed La Coruna a couple of days into my month of babysitting The Lady Fisher. It was cool to catch up with a familiar face, Ian and Myself had been together for a while by this time and another friend to converse with was much welcomed.
We stayed in Sines for about 12 days . The birthplace of Vasco De Gama (the Portugeezer who discovered India, if not for Vasco we Brits wouldnt have corner shops or curries, a VERY important sailor) Sines is a beautiful small town politically overrun with an oil refinery that was installed some time ago, so the authorities are trying very hard to install Culture and Arts and Music into the town to counterbalance the effect of the refinery and the Authorities are winning ! lots of vibrant concerts and exhibitions, theatres and museums it was a cool stopover but inevitably The Lady Fisher was chomping to sail, Onwards, around the Capo De San Vicente into The Algarve. Accompanied by Dave in his ship 'Anasu'

Travelling in tandem with Dave has been awesome, MANY beers and laughs, Dave, Ian and Myself have been like a trio of adolescents. anchored by the beach in Sagres, jumping off the boats into warm sea water, life at anchor is so much more rewarding than staying in marinas, the heightened sense of freedom leads to a healthier soul, even if sleeping patterns are upset through mild paranoia of The Lady Fisher slipping her anchor and smashing us to certain death on the rocks that loom menacingly. Also because of the lack of light pollution, the stars are magnificant, reminding me of how I fell for sleeping under the night sky all those years ago. If only I could understand Sir Patrick Moore.
Whilst at anchor in Sagres, during the night sky performing for the boys, another ship came an anchored close by.
The following day Ian, Dave and I were having a healthy day,trying desperately to reverse the aging process of 3 middle aged men. NO BOOZING, lots of swimming, diving, salads and copious amounts of water (35 degrees hot).
There was no sign of movement onboard our new neighbour flying a German flag.
We wanted healthy,
We really did
At around 4 pm the Deutshlander emerged, a brute of a man rowing a tiny dinghy waving a fourpack of booze 'Hello! I am Johannas. You must take a beer with me!' He cried as he rowed his oversized frame towards us.
How could we refuse, Now we were four, an awesome fortnight with Johannas was to follow-
He liked us.
What a Dude, He had just sailed from Germany solo handed, on the first stage of his two year round the world voyage, to take on the two Capes, Good Hope and Good Horn, many sailors circumnavigate, avoiding the Capes, prefering the gentler routes , taking the canals of Panama and Suez, this is why they were built, to make circumnavigation easier.
That evening we decided to dine ashore, we showered, shaved and donned our finest clobber to woo and wow the local beach bar Hunnies!
A swell was building in the bay as we prepared the dinghies for departure, getting to the beach was going to be tricky as the waves dumped upon the shore.
Dave, Ian, Myself in a larger dinghy with motor, Johannas in his tiny dinghy rowing- rowing almost as fast as we motored!!!!
We reached the shore just before Johannas, judging the swell correctly and beaching ourselves without too many problems.
As we turned to see how Johannas was fairing, a wave picked him up and upturned the tiny dinghy, all we saw was this huge German in His tiny dinghy being launched onto the shore backwards. In his black jeans and black t-shirt , Dumped and turned and dumped again, All because the lady loves milk tray was all I could think of as I rescued his phone, camera and cigars from the sand.
He took it well, undressing, wringing out his clothes, redressing and on to the restaurant. CLASSIC.!
On returning to the anchored yachts we lost Ian to the waves. Negotiating surf in dingies and anchoring in general is alot more fun than marina life.


One more night at anchor and then onto Lagos,

And that will be my next publication

THE NAUTICAL ADVENTURES OF TEXAS PETE IN LAGOS

Bonne Matin mes petit pois,
The Right Honorable Lady Fisher, The Doc and I have reached The Algarve.
Internet access has been limited along the Portugese coast so I will attempt to chronical chronologically.
I became an Honorary Portugeezer in the small town of Leixoes, on the night Senors Christiano Ronaldo, Deco, Pepe, Ricardo and the rest of the Portugese football team overcame the mighty Turks 2-0. We watched the match in the distinguished company of the 1977/78 Portugese champions of Leca De Palmeira pictured above.
Checkout Carlos Alberto, 4th from left on back row, pure quality.
At the end of the victorious match arrived the team bus to cruise around town waving flags and scarves, beating drums. The international language of football continued to open doors for us all the way down the Portugese coast.
Ok. The chronological diary isnt going to work, my brain cant cope with the organisation of so many memories so I will try another tack,
A few photos and Videos with descriptions thereafter.
As an honorary Portugeezer I grew a Moustache for the boys.
When Portugal played Germany I was accused too frequently of being German that It only lasted a fortnight.
That reason and the fact that no girls were paying me any attention.
It had to go.

PORTUGAL 2 - TURKEY 0

Just a kwikie,

These are the boys I watched the Euro 2008 footy with,

STAND UP BLOGSTERS!!!!!!

those moustaches belong to the 1977 Portugese Champions,

Long story,, the bar is kickin me out, gotta go.

I've grown a moustache as a homage to my new friends.

Photos later.

PORTUGAL, PORTUGAL, PORTUGAL!!!!

IT ROCKS.

At a place called Cascais at the mo,,, gotta go!

Mr Chris Rolfe.

Adios Espana

Hi Everyone and Mr Chris Rolfe.

Mr. Chris Rolfe is 30 years old now and gets upset when I don't personally involve him in the goings on whilst of course I haven't got better things to be doing with my time than fumbling around the keyboard typing Mr. Chris Rolfe.
So Mr. Chris Rolfe are you satisfied now, you old moaning bearded git. You can tell your fiancee, Miss Claire Hill to stop E-Mailing me your moans and gripes whilst I'm fumbling around the keyboard looking for the Mr. Chris Rolfe button.
As for the rest of my blogfans, please be upstanding for Mr. Chris Rolfe and Miss Claire Hill who will be, as of the 6th August 2008, Mr and Mrs Chris Rolfe.

If all goes as planned!

ME ME ME ME ME, THIS BLOG IS ABOUT MEEEEEEEEEEEE, piss off Chris.
If you decide to chicken out, then Claire knows where to find ME.

Thanks to ALL ABOARD: The Nautical Adventures of MultiMedia Texas Pete, Claire will of course be able to Hop aboard 'The Lady Fisher', plenty more in the sea Chris, whip on son. The Doc won't mind, He's got the Marineros Horn at the moment. I'm not thinking about it which is kinda difficult when The Doc keeps going on about His. He's The Captain, He's The Boss (sorry Mr. Springsteen), He's The Skipper. I Have to say 'Yes' Captain, 'Yes Boss, 'Aye' Skipper, 'Me too!' but I haven't really, I is too busy typing Mr. Chris Rolfe to have the Marineros Horn.
Too damn busy writing my blog to be thinking of Miss Claire Hill, Too Flaming busy cleaning The Lady Fisher to be Fishing for clean Ladies. 'Cause I'm justa sittin on the dock of the bay, wasting.

By this time tomorrow I wont' be thinking of Mr. Chris Rolfe or Miss Claire Hill whilst I'm sitting on the dock of the bay wasting in Spain,
Nope ,
I won't be thinking Of Miss Chris Hill or Mr Claire Rolfe whilst I'm sitting on the dock of the bay wasting in PORTUGAL.
Triffic!!! Like Spain but poorer and I don't speak the language. just great. Might be able to gain access to some fresh milk though! I know the Spaniards put asparagus in bags of frozen mixed veg but U.H.T. sucks now, I went to a supermarket recently and was told next Thursday for fresh milk. Dickheads.

Does anyone know Portugese for fresh milk!

It's gonna be the longest sail since crossing the Biscay but we've had enough of U.H.T and the Portugese coast is about as interesting as Mr. Chris Rolfe and Miss Claire Hill so it's gonna be longer sails from now on until such time as there is some more interesting coastline to explore.

Please understand that if I had a surfboard, the Portugese coast would be interesting with it's swells and sandbanks and surf, however, I have only a 34 foot, 4 tonne yacht and of course The Doc. Therefore, In the sake of safety for The Doc, The Lady Fisher, Multimedic Texans, Claire and Chris, we are gonna fly by The Portugese Coast.

Incidentally, the Portugese fishermen drop lobster pots and nets as far as 10 miles offshore, marked only by black (visible) flags, empty plastic tubs or best of all TWIGS!!!!!
We Brits follow European mandates far too closely to the written word.
Here. on the Iberian Peninsula, they don't give a ffffffuck about the suits in Brussels.
This time tomorrow hopefully we will be just north of Porto.

Sorry for the terrible layout of this blog, as videos/photos upload at such a slow rate, I have to just keep on writing as the megakilobyte action ocurs which gives me no control over where the text will be when the uploaded efforts of my day appear.
You do realise that half my spare time on land is spent looking for blog photo/video opportunities and the other half is sat in a shitty bar writing to you and sighing deeply when the upload crashes
and the other half is spent sleeping so I can do all 3 halves again tomorrow.
The Video... Climbing the interior of the Statue of the Virgin Mary , The only Virgin I've ever been in or indeed up.
The Photos...... 1... Nice Lady I Met On The Virgins Right Hand
2... The PINTA. replica of Chris 'Rolfe' Columbuses ship
3... Baiona Castle and Statue to Horny Marineros
4... The Virgin Statue at the top of a mountain which I climbed up inside for you , and to meet the nice lady (pic 1)
5... Aerial View of 'The Lady Fisher', She's the little one right of centre with the blue canopy. Double click the photo and Zzzzooom in.

Did you know that you can click my Images and zoom in! (copyright 1972 multimedia Texas Pete)

That was Baiona,

This was Me, saying so long to Mr. Chris Rolfe and Miss Claire Hill.

Chao. x

The Camera Never Lies. (unless you can use photoshop)

MULLETS and BUOYS

......I am, one of these days, gonna go around one of our many ports of call with my camera and snap some Spanish Boys Mullets, the hairdo, not the fish. They are quite incredible. In the meantime, here are some Spanish Mullets, the fish, not the Spanish Boys hairdos. And also a piccy for you of a Spanish Buoy! A Spanish Western Cardinal Buoy, This one is telling The Doc and I to stay West of the rocks in the Bay of Baiona (Bayona). It's beautiful here, Islands offshore are home to bird sanctuaries and deserted beaches. After the saga in Portosin we are a tad fed up with marinas so we're gonna anchor off some of these beaches once we have aquired the necessary licences required to visit the nature reserves. There is so much to checkout in this town before departing. It is a pity I am in a shabby 'Irish Bar' (why? why? why? does a Guinness tap change a bars Nationality?????) Blogging.

Christopher Columbus was docked here in His faithful boat 'THE PINTO' there is a replica of it moored up a couple of hundred yards from where we are - photos to follow. Also the original castle ramparts still dominate the towns headland. Baiona dates way back, a historic nautical town indeed, local sailors took a measly 3 years to circumnavigate the globe from here in 1519, a far cry from the luxurious conditions that I find myself in, Skirvy? No Thanx.

Luxury indeed, Just before the departure from Portosin, The Doc had a couple of friends over from Southampton so we had a leisurely day sail around the bay, Dolphins galore! Blue skies, Bright sunshine, I couldn't resist the impulsion to dive in the deep blue sea to swim with Our flippered friends, I dived in, they fucked off! Next time maybe. still a first in my book, The first time that I nearly swam with Dolphins. It was still an adrenaline rush of trepidation as to whether or not those fins I could see just over there would be just over here in a moment. Still it was so nice just to have a swim in the sea, with a pod of dolphins to my right and a yacht to my left. In the famed words of Mr Paul Daniels, Now That's Magic! not that Mr Paul Daniels IS Magic, It's an illusion, sleight of hand see, sorry but I had to point that out.



Onwards! After the pleasures of sunshine on our backs we set sail for the next leg south, on to Portonova. A truly wonderful sail, 8 knots from 'The Lady Fisher'. The Doc is teaching Multimedia Texas Nautical Pete , 'WE' are sailing 'The Lady Fisher' well!!!
Sunday arrival, PortoNova was shut. Fiesta on Monday, PortoNova was shut! not much to write home about really, long sandy beaches, crystal clear waters, boring! town was shit, sorry, shut. Time to carry on south.

Another fine sailing day, a lesser wind than the previous day but obtaining 5 knots from 9 knots of wind is pretty good going. We are gaining more confidence to sail narrower passages, more skillful pilotage.
There are of course always incidents, Tourist Ferries deciding to head straight for us for the passengers to shout and wave 'coooweee'!!!!!! whilst The Doc and I stick our fingers up and shout at the ferry captain to get the fuck off our course. I won't go into what sailing rules the ferry captain was breaking, sufficient to say 'lots of them' ,,,,, Tosser.
After the Customs ramming episode and the Captain Tossers 'flyby' I am convinced that this coastline is not called 'The Coast of Death' because of it's rocky nature but because Spanish Marineros are utter dicks.

I have just worked out that I can 'cut and paste' my journals from notepad, meaning I can write on the boat without an internet connection and insert them to this very blog when I am lucky enough to be sat in a shit 'Irish Bar' blaring out crap Europop.
This meaning of course, my future memoirs will be fresher, funnier, fruitier, faster and far more factual than this regurgatated rubbish that you, my loyal beneficiaries have been subjected to so far.

Until next time, Take it easy on yourselves.

Yours forever,

Multimedia Texas Nautical Pete. x

! ! !SKIPPER ABOLISHES SMOKING BAN ! ! ! (For One Night Only)

Let Us start at the beginning,

Photo #1 ... A Fancy Panoramic Collage that Multi-Media Texas Pete put together for you, my loyal fans. Just marvel at the progress the useless hippy is making.

Photo #2... Something to think about. sorry Mum but I never ever once asked Her to behave like that.!!!! Trouble brewing, I can tell. Lie back and think of England. Let's call Her Jackie.....

It's shitty here now, Ever since the S.P.I.C.S broke The Good Lady Fisher, (Re; Whoop, Whoop, It's The Sound Of The Police.) the evidence of horizontal Galician rain has been the only constant force to be relied upon.
I believe it is now Thursday, A full six days has passed and the promise of reparations by the Spanish Authorities has led to a great deal of frustration, dissapointment, anxiety, anger, dissapointment, anxiety, frustration and more anger and exasperation due to the Spanish' constant ability not to be relied upon.
The insurance damage assesment official arrived at 10.05 Tuesday morning, fruits of Mondays multiple Phone around the Spanish office game that The Doc and I dutifully (and evidently successfully) played.
10.10 Tuesday morning, typical British trait, "Miquel, would you like a cup of tea? coffee?"
10.10 and 5 seconds, "No gracias, Tenemos una cerveza" - "No thanks but I could kill a beer"
Quality, What a Dude, Shakin' like Mr Stevens did behind his green door!
No Problema, found 3 blokes with 3 quotes and assurance of one of them showing up 'manana' to get to work repairing 'The Good Lady Fisher'
'Manana' was, in a twist of translation, yesterday. The rain still falls as consistently as John Terry's teardrops. Similies. I Shittum

Wednesday, more rain, no workmen..........O.k. they meant another manana.

This morning, Thursday, 10.00 engineer, got some beers in just in case the offer of a caffeine stimulant wasn't adequate. 13.00 siesta, maybe he's resting!!!!!!!!!
Hunt down another man.
Found another man,
No problem he says, I come back at 4, it will take me an hour.
There was a market in town today, I wanted to see if I could sell some of my Hippy beads, one sale would of been enough for me to buy a coffee of my own, a small whiff of independance from the dependance of The Doc's generosity. I provide The Doc with as much beneficial energy as is capable during the ever changing variants of cruising the Galician coastline. This is generally being the best sailor as I can physically and mentally muster, while we are sailing. In days of rest I do my best to cook, clean, make, repair, translate, whatever needs cooking, cleaning, making, repairing, translating, et al. In return I am provided with a beautiful yacht to live on, a wonderful yacht on which to clean, repair, make, I am provided with good food to cook and I am provided with a sailing adventure that will take me as far as it takes me. The Doc is a patient man, giving me the opportunity to learn the art of sailing without condescending when I am ignorant and explanation when I am curious. However at the moment I am reliant upon Him for My daily bread.
Which is why, today, I wanted to go to market to earn myself a coffee at least but the dickin around by the local workmen meant I had to stay on the pontoon while they decided to fix the boat or nay.
As I believe I've mentioned before (I couldn't be bothered scrolling up, I'm on a roll) this saga with the authorities has now cost us a weeks sailing, and a miserable week it has been too, not inspired to walk the inspirational countryside due to the sea level cloud cover, waiting on workmen not to show when an inspired walk in the potentially inspirational Galician countryside was a possibility.
'Sometimes you have to be stopping to carry on' an old white bearded Indian man once told me.
We will certainly relish the moment that we untie the mooring ropes from the pontoon at Portosin.
Although..........

The man who owns the local grocery store as it happens, is the commodore of the marina where we have been holed up. As charming as we are as customers at the local grocery store He recognized The Doc at the marina bar today and not only policed the rapid repairs to The Lady Fisher but also informed The Doc of a sporting race that is occuring on Sunday.

Now, That's What I Call Music!!!

The Doc is, as yet, undecided about staying here until then, but I WANT IT, I LOVE IT, COME ON, LETS HAVE IT, I don't care if we come last, It's the takin part. These spics so far have been fairing incompetant to generally useless since we got here. Maybe, Just Maybe we can have the Lady Fisher engraved on the local silverware. I gotta work on The Doc.

I mean what's the point of this adventure when there's obviously going to be a piss up at the end of Sundays racing in Spain with the Spanish in a Spanish race against the Spanish with an outside chance of maybe winning the Spanish Cup from the Spanish. I fear for the sexuality of my awesome Skipper. I may have to jump ship if I find out He's gay to the challenge, He reads my blog and I'm putting my position on the line as soon as I press 'PUBLISH BLOG'

Last night it was raining so hard, The Doc said the interior smoking ban was lifted, for one night only, I sat inside the saloon, put my feet up, propped a cushion up behind my aching bones and sparked up the sweetest cigarette I've had in weeks.

It's the little things that make it all worthwhile.

Wish me luck, I'm pressing 'PUBLISH BLOG' now. x

Whoop Whoop It's the Sound of the Police

Photo 1... I didn't wanna get too cocky by taking photos of Custom officers with guns, so here is the blue flashing light!!

Photo 2... My office. Photo 3... Finisterre Headland, European mainlands most westerly point. . . Triffic......! A lump of rock with a lighthouse on it!! No problem guys, It's a pleasure.

Howdy, I hear it's raining on you guys in Blighty too, good, , , sincerely, , , good, very selfish of me I know, however 4 sunny days I've had since leaving, It's grinding a bit thin now, getting to The Doc too which ain't good.
Normally we would carry on sailing but we are holed up in the beautiful but boring Portosin. The reasons for being stranded here I will explain in due time. One saving grace is that the Club Nautico (the marina clubhouse) is very comfortable and hospitable, providing free wi-fi which to you or I, living in a 21st century western, modern culture, wouldn't seem too remarkable. But in Spain,,,,, VERY PRECIOUS commodity these radiobytes, This is the first place since the Wi-fi bar in La Coruna that I have been able to be Multimedia Texas Pete. I fear that I have lost the Multimedia way whilst at sea.. I will endevour to persevere... TELL US A STORY PETE!!!! I hear you cry,,,, Roight on, are you sitting comfortably? I will begin,

A long long time ago last Friday, The Doc and I were sailing from Finisterre to Portosin, an easy days sailing to explore another 'Ria' of Galicia.
After watching John Terry fall over and start crying (for the loss of his substantial bonus I presume) we spent Thursday a little hungover and set sail Friday morn.
The wind was blowing a steady 20 knots for the majority of the day from the North so it was a good opportunity to experiment with new sail configurations. I have found that sailing can be rather tedious if one's life isn't at risk through strong seas so the stimulation of messing with sails definately stimulates the addling mind of a sailor. Dolphins came to play again, Spanish Dolphins, it's lucky that my Spanish is improving.
So with a spinnaker pole attached to the genoa we were making a good 6 knots, yep! 6, that's SIX miles an hour more or less, and that's quite respectably quick! Life in the Fast Lane.
By the time we reched the last leg of the journey, the wind had dropped considerably, we came around the headland into the Ria Muros, which is home to our destined village of Portosin and decided to perform an M.O.B. (Man Over Board) procedure, which involves throwing a fender (one of those inflatable bumper things) overboard and then retrieving it as quickly as possible to prevent the poor fender from becoming hyperthermic, obviously in pretence that the fender substituting a fallen comrade. You get the picture.
Half an hour previously, a Spanish Coastal Patrol Ship ( like the Californian Highway Patrol- C.H.I.P.S - but S.P.I.C.S- nearly) had passed us in the opposite direction.
We were just about to commence M.O.B. practice number two, when the S.P.I.C.S steamed up to us Full Power, Large Fast Shark like Vessel, lights flashing, six guys with guns and Ray-Ban Aviators stood on the rails awaiting to board us and potentially, if they fancy, rip The Lady Fisher and all Her contents to pieces. Being as Sharp as I can possibly muster I had of course ingested The Docs prescribed medicine, because I could of course forsee the medicine cabinet being investigated. It's fortunate that I am skint or there would of been more medicine than I would of been comfortable with.
With the confidence of cleanliness on The Lady Fisher we obligingly 'Pulled Over' for the Boys in Blue. What happened next is not what the S.P.I.C.S were planning.
Obviously to 'Pull Alongside' something that is moving (i.e. Us) the vehicle that is approaching has to match BOTH SPEED AND DIRECTION- simple enough yeah! Ironically enough the Customs boat had A WOMAN BEHIND THE WHEEL (sorry girls- FACT) and she managed to get BOTH SPEED AND DIRECTION wrong approaching at an angle of 30 Degrees whilst accelerating,, the result Boys is of course,,,,,, She Fuckin Rammed Us!!! Nearly taking out MultiMedia Pete's Six-pack with Her 30 Tonne pointy end! Fortunately a stancion came to my rescue by takin the majority of the impact. So she tries again, nope! third time lucky! nope!!! This was all occuring in flat, calm conditions, and by this time Myself and The Doc are shouting "WTF" at the Rozzers and they're shouting back "Shut the Fk Up, We're the Rozzers with Guns Remember" so we stopped shouting!! Next up the S.P.I.C.S had to back off and get into their little inflatable 2-man boat and approach in a less violent manner.
All of the mayhem served us well as the dynamic had somewhat turned, Instead of half a dozen monkeys stomping all over us we had the Senior Officer and One Junior checking our passports and having a small search whilst I quizzed them about what they're gonna do about our broken stancion (The Doc doesn't speak Spanish).
At least the Monkeys- sorry-Authorities didn't rip The Good Lady Fisher and Her contents to pieces unprofitably looking for a bust. The incompetence of the Captain (yes, She was the Captain, 25ish 5'7" tight transom, hot really, just a shit driver) saved my Guitar from a full body search.
That is why we are holed up in Beautiful,Boring Portosin, awaiting the Customs Insurance Company to assess and fix The Docs' broken stantion. which has obviously pissed him off no end, They ram Us but we gotta sit around a shit town paying mooring fees somewhere we don't wanna be waiting for them to be predictably slow and beurocratic about it. I'm fine waiting and bloggin and fixing other things on the boat (rain permitting, it's horizontal at the mo so I'm bloggin) but I'm afraid The Docs' coolness is a tad frayed.
If anyone can send me a morale to this story I'd like to hear from you, cause I'm damned if I can think of anything to be learned from it excluding that ingestion of The Docs Medicine can lead to a well chilled Multimedia Texas Pete, but Hey, tell your Granny to suck an egg.
Dickheads!

"And Now, Back to the Studio for the Weather."

"It's Spitting"

Wozon Land Lubbers

Back on dry land, well, nearly dry, been raining lots see!
So much has changed since my last installment.
I have finally managed to get sailing again which is the reason there has been no bloggin goin on,
I don't really know where to start,
The Captain! why not start there, Dr Iain Thomas, what a cool dude, no shouting, instructional, well mannered, dislikes mornings as much as I, One quality skipper really, genuinely thankful for the work I have done on The Lady Fisher (pics following), Yes indeed I am learning lots about this sailing lark from Iain, and what is cool is the trust He has in Myself to do the jobs/tasks/actions that are required, a good double act for the task in hand which is cruising the Galician Coastline of Spain, A very striking coastline known locally as Costa Del Morte, Coast of Death!!!!
For the past week we have been taking gentle day sails 30-40 mile short hops, exploring as much as possible, somedays mooring up in the harbours, somedays taking a berth at a Marina to restock water/gas/fuel etc. If I remember correctly we left La Coruna a week ago (Saturday 17th) Sailed to Laxe, a small fishing town with a gorgeous long sandy beach, I took the opportunity to spend most of Sunday running it, shakin out some Cabin Fever, I had the mile long beach to myself, awesome, cramped up on Tuesday, but hey, No Pain No Gain.
Monday was another short hop, 30 odd miles to Camarinas, the winds and tides havent been favourable so these short hops are 5-8 hour sails, just taking enough of the day to tire but not knacker out Texas Pete or THE DOC.
Dolphins visit most days, getting bored of them now, not one of them has balanced a ball or jumped through any hoops for us, just swim and click, click and swim.
All of the harbours we have visited are teaming with fish, a majority are Grey Mullet, not the tastiest in the ocean but they jump about all around the boat teasing me so by dropping various food products overboard I quickly established that sardines in tomato sauce was the suitably enticing bait. Almost a full tin of sardines and two hours later I got one, sardine on a three pronged hook was my weapon of choice, what happened next just scared me, the fish, not huge, not small- 15 inch ish- bit through the metal barbs of my hook to leave me with a mutilated hook, Now I was pissed, out came the artillery, multiple shrimp lures, I was pleased to see the fishes fighting for my lure, 30 seconds later I had a bite, brand new stronger hooks, this fish wasnt getting away, after a minute of play I lifted my biggest ever catch out of the water, I then unfortunately hesitated to look around the boat to see where was best to land this beast, after seeing his mate bite through metal I wasnt planning on losing a toe for the sake of dinner, all of this happened in alot less time than it has taken to type and as I hesitated with the fish half in half out it escaped. Texas Pete -0 Fishes- 2, the battle may be lost but guaranteed you will see photographic proof of my aquatic victory very soon, as for now I have been outwitted.
So I wanted the photos down here but the bloggods put them at the top .
Photo 1... Chart of Galician Coastline What I Be Navigating .
Photo 2... The Lady Fisher, Compact and Bijoux.
Photo 3... Captain Doctor Iain Thomas. My Life is in His Hands/His Life is in Mine!
Photo 4... A Typical Marina Pontoon.
Video... The Harbour at Portosin.

It's getting late, My blogging ain't as quick as it used to be, I got sea legs but fishy fingers! my typing has been less than elegant, I have to go and cook for THE DOC, sometimes we go to a cafebar or restaurante but It's always a gastronomic anticlimax, so I made the pact with THE DOC that He supplies good ingredients and I create something better than my Huevos Buttie!!
Chicken wrapped in ham, brie and apricots last night, mmmm I'm so talented.
Thanx for listening,
More tomorrow as we are in Portosin for a while . I will explain tomorrow, It involves the Police!!!!!!!!!!! The Sea Police,,,,,, The Spanish Sea Police!!!!!
TUNE IN....
Thanks again, I Love you all.

New Horizons,

This was the last time I saw Kirsty, leaving La Coruna, I'll be in the same position in a couple of days I hope, leaving this town behind. I'm definately looking forward to sailing with Ian, I may actually get round to learning some skills above the need to know basis of former skippers, still unaware of his future agenda, whether it's a slow jaunt down the Portugese coast, stopping in for adventures or if we are sailing direct to the Algarve or the Med, Greek Island sailing sounds intriquing or Morocco or Indeed I'd dearly love to cross the Atlantic to Cuba, Barbados.

The future is most definately unwritten,

I've just worked out my failing Videos are too large in filesize so I will ensure following vids are recorded at 320*240 rather than 640*480. Multimedia tips from the hippy.

I will of course send a last blog before departing, but until then I had better start preparing the yacht for Ians return and our departure.

Take Care You Pesky Kids.

x