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Sunday 28 July 2019

OF SHOES AND SHIPS AND SEALING-WAX...

OF SHOES AND SHIPS AND SEALING-WAX...

The time has come,' the Walrus said,
      To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
      Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
      And whether pigs have wings.'

This verse from the wonderful nonsensical Lewis Carroll poem, ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter’ has long been a favourite of mine. I started sailing in dinghies when I was 11 years old. My brother had just finished the construction of the first boat he built, a Mirror dinghy. (He has subsequently built several larger craft, including one in which he circumnavigated the world - but that's another story.) He'd met me from Sunday School - I was still wearing my Sunday best - and we'd made our way to Mitchell's boatyard in Poole Harbour, where the dinghy was kept. The boat was launched and I was made to sit on the thwart (seat) amidships and told not to move, only to duck when the boom came across. Thus began my love of boats, the sea and everything connected with them. So, it comes as no surprise that these things feature largely in my crime novels.



The stories are set near the sea and often involve fishermen and boats. In the first two books, BLOOD ON THE TIDE and BLOOD ON THE SHRINE the 'baddies have a boat called MOONSHINE. I'd chosen the name for no other reason than it has connotations of illicit activities. Imagine my surprise when later, after the stories were written, I was mooching around the iconic net sheds at the fishermen's beach in Hastings and saw this, an old photo, framed and displayed on one of the sheds. I had no idea there had actually been a Hastings boat called MOONSHINE. Serendipity or what?!


It was too late to change the name so I hope no one is offended. Here is an extract from BLOOD ON THE SHRINE when the 'baddies' are making their escape.

Salt was doing his best to delay Moonshine’s departure but was struggling to slow it down. ‘Why in such a hurry? The tide’s only just making and there’ll be plenty of water when you get there.’
Dickens continued loosening the ropes. ‘Aye. Just feel it’s best to get under way. Want to take it easy, just to make sure.’
Salt tried one more tack. ‘Might it not be wise to leave it, until you’ve had enough time to check the engine is running all right?’
Dickens paused and listened. ‘Sounds all right to me. I think I’d know if anything was up, don’t you?’ Anxious to start the journey he was beginning to suspect that Salt might be deliberately delaying him. He finished untying the warps, threw the stern line untidily down on to the afterdeck and looped the bowline round the bollard. He jumped down on to the deck, pulled the line in behind him and, with a wave to Salt, began turning the boat. The tide was coming in swiftly and the boat slewed sideways, travelling back up the river, before Dickens got the bow pointing seaward. Even at half throttle Moonshine barely made headway against the current so he gave the engine more revs and she began moving slowly down the estuary, a large bow wave breaking either side of the vessel.
She hadn’t gone more than a couple of hundred yards when Salt heard a car approaching at speed. The Wolseley rocketed over the level crossing - the front bouncing high on its springs - and into the yard, screeching to halt surrounded by a plume of dust. Russell and Beaumont tumbled out and ran to where Salt was standing. ‘Where is she?’
Salt pointed down the channel. ‘There! They’re getting away!’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it! Quick, get Stan. We need to get after them!’ Salt ran to the boatshed while the two policemen climbed down the ladder and into the launch. By the time Stan had joined them, the engine was running and the warps were untied. Moonshine was some distance away and Dickens had obviously opened the throttle fully as she was now creating an even larger bow wave. ‘Can you catch her?’ Russell asked.
‘I’ll give it my best shot,’ Stan said.
‘If Wolfgang’s aboard, I don’t want to lose him again!’

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