Wednesday 16 January 2013

End of the Hols

'Too Risky'
Fifteen years after I last saw it, the very first boat I bought in Angola pitches up in my yard!
God did I have some fun skiing behind that!

Dominic is on his way today after spending the holidays with me.

It was great.  We went fishing, swimming in Rico’s pool, more fishing, went bird watching, more fishing, collected and delivered water to the locals, more fishing, went out plinking crabs with an air rifle, did some more fishing, you get the idea.   We like fishing, by the way.

Understandably, he is a bit sad.  Right now he is sitting in front of the TV waiting for the car to come and get him.  He told me that he had enjoyed a great holiday.  I corrected him by pointing out that WE had enjoyed a great holiday.  I am sad too.

I think the best bit for him was the unexpected arrival of the Scouts.  Here, scouts and scoutesses all mix in together so when he received an invite to come over for lunch on the beach with them, he leapt at the opportunity taking little Alex with him.  They are the friendliest bunch of young people anyway but since Dominic and I were now delivering clean water to them as well as stuff from the shop at cost to save them having to resupply from town, they were falling over themselves to be nice.  I told the Scout Master (would that be Akela?) that once I had my restaurant land leveled and since his troop were so well behaved and polite, in future he could camp on my land and enjoy access to the facilities.  I gave Dominic my pocket book on Knots and Splices by Cyrus L Day years ago and quite by chance he had it with him.  Having become quite adept, he gave lessons in tying knots which, let’s face it, is an essential badge to earn as a scout and earned him many an admiring glance.
How's that for a neat way to tie a bottle carrier?  No wonder the girls were impressed with Dominic's knots

On their last night here they had a beach barbecue and invited Dominic.  He is not quite fourteen but is as tall as an eighteen year old and very mature.  I know that some of the scoutesses (some of them as old as 21 so legal game for me as well) had their eyes on him. 
Scoutesses.  Every sleeping bag should come equipped with one

It's not me she's looking at with 'Come To Bed Eyes', it's Dominic behind the camera
He knows that I WILL start to get nervous if he isn’t home by 2300hrs.  And that’s only if I know exactly where he is.  If I don’t I am already hitting the panic buttons at sundown.  It got to 23.30 and I was debating with myself whether to keep the generator running, the lights of the restaurant acting as a beacon to safety, or go and get him.  I hated the idea of going to get him.  Imagine, there he is, a doe eyed firm breasted virginal but soon-to-be-converted dusky maiden clasped in his arms as they, leaning against a palm tree under the stars contemplating a moonlit Atlantic finally pluck up their adolescent courage for a bit of serious snogging only to be interrupted by some white haired fat old bloke limping and cursing his way across the sand shouting for his son.  He would have died of embarrassment. 

But what if he had fallen into the sea and no-one had noticed?  What if he had left for home in the dark and been knocked down and was lying in agony in a ditch wondering when his Dad would miss him and come looking for him?  What if this scout troop was the troop from hell and had introduced my son to pot and free sex (in which case why wasn’t I invited?).

At 23.30 I was still dithering when Dominic walked in.

‘Have a good time, Son?’ I asked, feigning nonchalance.

‘Dad! It is brilliant!  They invited me to sleep over but I told them I really should be getting back or you would be worried’

‘I wasn’t worried Son, I trust you and I am VERY pleased you came back before midnight, this makes me trust you more.  Would you like to grab your toothbrush and nip back?’


Woggles, toggles and boggles.  In order of increasing seniority left to right

‘See you in the morning Son’ I said and then, sotto voce, muttered a fervent prayer at his rapidly receding back, ‘hope you get laid!’ and went to switch the generator off.


  1. Splendid! If holidays didn't end then they also couldn't begin, so half of the fun would be lost.

    Incidentally, my father introduced me to the art of knot-tying. But then I suppose he was the part-time Regimental Hangman, so no great surprise there.

    As I have explained repeatedly to various magistrates and judges the land over; I was never officially in the scouts in question and this conviction is a travesty.

  2. Sir Owl,

    I was expelled from the Cubs on my first night and my father was so outraged having invested in a new uniform, woggle and toggle that he made me wear it as general purpose clothing until I was fifteen years and eight months old whereupon the Quarter Master of the military school he sent me to took pity on me and issued me a uniform that was two sizes to big for me allowing my voice to finally break.

  3. I guess this is the difference from having a son to having a daughter. I can't imagine I'm ever going to say those words!

    1. Do you think that any spotty faced youth would mess with Big Don Alviti's daughter? About as dangerous as sticking yer dick in a bacon slicer I would have thought...

  4. Replies
    1. Come on Megan, the girls were all between 18 and 21 so he wouldn't have been breaking any laws and besides, I taught him to ride a Yamaha motorcycle aged 4, he could drive my Range Rover by the time he was 9 and he can now drive my truck. This would be just another challenge he would have to rise to!

  5. You're tempting me to become an Angolan Scout. My youngest son was a Cub, but when he became old enough to become a Scout, I said NO (Scout masters in the UK have a reputation). I'm beginning to like the sound of Angola.

    1. You could give the body painting lessons on the beach...

  6. Under that curmudgeonly exterior there beats a heart of a loving father; it's very endearing. And may the fruit of your loins see you grow old enough to understand it. (The Underminer.)

    1. Bah! Humbug! Boys don't need love, they need discipline! He is nearly fourteen so I will be sending him to that prep school in Guantanamo Bay, they even supply the uniforms.

  7. I wasn't thinking about the law breaking; i just know that if i were involved in a coed sleeping situation at 14, my father would NEVER mutter those words.


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