LOCH BROOM SAILING CLUB
WEST COAST SAILING AT ITS BEST
CODE OF CONDUCT
LOCH BROOM SAILING CLUB - CHARGES
MAN (OR WOMAN) OVERBOARD by Paul Copestake, YM
ROBIN CAMPBELL MEMORIAL
LATEST COMMITTEE MEETING MINUTES
2018 DRAFT AGM MINUTES
2018 DRAFT PROGRAMME
MEMBERSHIP BENEFITS AND CLUB POLICY
Hobbit, Nat Wilson at the tiller, showing there's more to sailing than racing (note beer carrier swinging from backstay)
Fannying About in the Flannans (and the Futile Search for Tennants)
LBSC stalwarts attempt to solve mystery of Flannan Isles lighthouse keepers
and the absenc
e of Tennants.
More startling revelations to follow.
Here's our interim report of what Karta, Twister and Kumari's crew found (or rather did not find) when they
landed on the remote islands. Beware: it makes chilling reading...
The skippers all dressed for the part
HOUGH three men dwell on Flannan Isle
To keep the lamp alight,
[John, Sandy, Alastair]
steer'd under the lee, we caught
No glimmer through the night!
A passing ship
at dawn had brought
The news; and quickly we set sail,
To find out what strange thing might befall
The keepers of the deep-sea light.
day broke blue and bright,
With glancing sun and glancing spray,
As o'er the swell our boat made way,
As gallant as a gull in flight.
owners prone to exaggerate]
But, as we near'd the lonely Isle;
And look'd up at the naked height;
And saw the lighthouse towering white,
With blinded lantern, that all night
Had never shot a spark
it was mid summer, this i
Of comfort through the dark,
So ghastly in the cold sunlight
It seem'd, that we were struck the while
With wonder all too dread for words.
And, as into the tiny creek
We stole beneath the hanging crag,
We saw three queer, black, ugly birds--
will know what th
Too big, by far, in my belief,
For guillemot or shag--
[huge difference between a guillemot and shag, says Paul]
Like seamen sitting bold upright
Upon a half-tide reef:
But, as we near'd, they plunged from sight,
Without a sound, or spurt of white.
[lesser black back gulls, definitely. Easy mistake to make]
And still too mazed to speak,
We landed; and made fast the boat;
t goes up the hole, or was it down?
And climb'd the track in single file,
Each wishing he was safe afloat,
On any sea, however far,
So it be far from Flannan Isle:
And still we seem'd to climb, and climb,
As though we'd lost all count of time,
And so must climb for evermore.
[poetic licence again; not th
at steep or far]
Yet, all too soon, we reached the door--
The black, sun-blister'd lighthouse door,
That gaped for us ajar.
As, on the threshold, for a spell,
We paused, we seem'd to breathe the smell
Of limewash and of tar,
Familiar as our daily breath,
As though 'twere some strange scent of death:
[the odour of
And so, yet wondering, side by side,
We stood a moment, still tongue-tied:
And each with black foreboding eyed
The door, ere we should fling it wide,
To leave the sunlight for the gloom:
Till, plucking courage up, at last,
Hard on each other's heels we pass'd
Into the living-room.
Yet, as we crowded through the door,
We only saw a table, spread
For dinner, meat and cheese and bread;
[decent food, at last lads. Fill your boots]
But all untouch'd; and no one there:
As though, when they sat down to eat,
Ere they could even taste,
Alarm had come; and they in haste
Had risen and left the bread and meat:
For on the table-head a chair
Lay tumbled on the floor.
We listen'd; but we only heard
The feeble cheeping of a bird
[Paul will know. Probably a ring-necked
That starved upon its perch:
brels seldom perch. Maybe a canary?]
And, listening still, without a word,
We set about our hopeless search.
[they'd run out of Tenn
We hunted high, we hunted low,
[no joy with the Tenn
And soon ransack'd the empty house;
Then o'er the Island, to and fro,
We ranged, to listen and to look
In every cranny, cleft or nook
That might have hid a bird or mouse:
[still no Tennants; getting desperate now]
But, though we searched from shore to shore,
We found no sign in any place:
And soon again stood face to face
Before the gaping door:
And stole into the room once more
As frighten'd children steal.
a Tennants-free island]
Aye: though we hunted high and low,
And hunted everywhere,
cans of Tenn
we found no trace
Of any kind in any place,
But a door ajar, and an untouch'd meal,
And an overtoppled chair.
[so, definitely no Tennants then]
And, as we listen'd in the gloom
Of that forsaken living-room--
O chill clutch on our breath--
We thought how ill-chance came to all
Who kept the Flannan Light:
And how the rock had been the death
Of many a likely lad:
How six had come to a sudden end
And three had gone stark mad:
[steady on. There's always the cooking brandy]
And one whom we'd all known as friend
Had leapt from the lantern one still night,
[delirium sets in due to lack of Tennants]
And fallen dead by the lighthouse wall:
[dead drunk, maybe]
And long we thought
And of what might yet befall.
[help, a beer-free passage back to Ullapool]
Like curs a glance has brought to heel,
We listen'd, flinching there:
And look'd, and look'd, on the untouch'd meal
And the overtoppled chair.
We seem'd to stand for an endless while,
Though still no word was said,
Three men alive on Flannan Isle,
[dying for a beer]
Who thought on three men dead.
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