Water, Water everywhere

The American lady asked for a glass of tap water. "Are you sure?" "Yes, I'd like some tap water." "Water from the tap?" "Yes, water from the tap." "Ohhhhh ... k. Erm. The water from the tap is good, it just looks funny." "Looks funny?" "Yes, it's sorta pale whisky coloured." "Pale whisky coloured?" "Yeah, but it's used in whisky so that's alright, huh?"





Now who would have liked to have had the opportunity this young chappie had??

In the boat, with outboard motor (and oars, I was pleased to see ... I shouldn't have watched that scary film a couple of weeks back about the outboard motor packing up and the man died and the two boys got stranded and and and .... I digress) I felt a little dis-ease. I'm not a 'water person' generally. I did get over not wanting to go on canoes on the Welsh border river darn sarf by telling myself I had dry clothes, my valuables were looked after and I could swim and it wasn't a fast flowing river. I got over worrying about bobbing about on a little Greek boat that seemed terribly over-laden, and stank of diesel, between islands, by telling myself that the Greeks had been doing this for centuries with only the odd Siren to contend with. Sitting in this little boat in water that's all the same colour of dark peat but translucent, ie. no code ... turquoise - shallow, pale blue - not very deep, inky blue - too bloody deep, and mountains that took a long time to get closer, it occurred to me to ask: "Is the water deep?" (Remember my near drowning experience as a kiddie, in my profile? Oh and then the one in Nigeria when I went surf/body boarding and waved cos I was drowning - I thought - and got waved back at???). Reply: "It is a bit." I decided not to ask how big a bit it was deep, for the moment. I thought about how wet my bum was in my windproof but apparently not waterproof outer garments. But then it was my golfing waterproofs and I've never yet, as far as I can remember (and I don't do remembering, remember?) been required to sit in a puddle on a golf course. Yeuk, when I stood up I could feel the water dripping down my leg. I don't think I'd peed myself with fright!!! Giggle. It was good to get on land on the Enchanted Isle Maree. A consecrated area, people are still buried there occasionally. These two stones mark the graves of a Nordic prince and a Scottish Princess. It's a bit of a Romeo and Juliet story, so you know it's not exactly a happy outcome, eh? There's a wishing tree that you stick money in! There was lots of money there, old pennies that had gone green! I wonder if Queen Victoria spent a penny on the island?? Oh, I slept in her bedroom and had a great morning view. "So, how deep exactly WAS the loch?" "Hmm, about 400 feet minimum." Faints clean away .............