Mom's Favorite Reads May 2023 Issue

Welcome to May 2023

Wendy H. Jones Author, Publisher, Writing Coach

Welcome to the May edition of Mom’s Favorite Reads.

This month sees the 50th anniversary of the original Swallows and Amazon’s movie, so we are celebrating all things nautical. There is an interview with Sophie Neville, the actress who played Titty in the movie. Sophie is also a producer and award-winning author.

Our articles, flash fiction, poetry and short stories all take a nautical theme, so pull up a deck chair, set your hat at a jaunty angle, and grab a glass of something cold while you enjoy a good read.

I hope you enjoy reading the magazine as much as I and the editorial team enjoyed bringing it together.

Wend

Sophie Neville

Interviewed by Wendy H. Jones

I am delighted to welcome Sophie Neville, the actress who played Titty Walker in the original movie of Swallows and Amazons. As it’s fifty years since this was filmed on location in the Lake District, we are celebrating all things nautical in this issue.

Welcome. Sophie, it is a pleasure to have you join us in Mom’s Favorite Reads and to get to know more about you. I know you are also a highly successful author, and we shall come to that soon, but first I would like to ask, how did you go about getting the role of Titty.

The extraordinary thing was that, as a normal schoolgirl, I didn't do a thing. A letter arrived out of the blue inviting me for an interview. Forty years later, when I put an extract of my ebook on 'The Secrets of Filming Swallows and Amazons' up on Goodreads, one reviewer wrote that it was 'a good idea for a novel but a bit far-fetched.' They didn't realise that my story was true.

The prospect of risking film finance on six unknown children must have been daunting. Claude Whatham the film director, knew both me and Sten Grendon (who played Roger) as he had cast us in the first BBC adaptation of Laurie Lee's memoir Cider With Rosie, back in 1971. He'd given me the part of Eileen Brown because I could play the piano well enough to

accompany Laurie Lee on violin in the parochial church concert. I stumbled through 'Oh Danny Boy' at an agonising pace but did exactly what I was told.

After my first audition for the part of Titty, a group of us were taken on a sailing weekend to see how confident we were in boats but I was never asked to read for the part as you might expect. There was no film test. It all happened very fast. The letter was sent on 30th March. By 14th May 1973, we were shooting the first scene with Dame Virginia McKenna playing my mother.

Tell us about your time on the set and the recording of the movie.

The ninety-minute feature film was shot on 35mm almost entirely on location in the Lake District where we were based for seven weeks. The first set was a railway carriage, which was nice and warm. It was soon a twelve-foot dinghy out on Coniston Water when I wore nothing more than a thin yellow dress and a pair of navy blue elasticated knickers. The experience was usually chilly, and involved a great deal of waiting around, but we survived.

I’ve got to ask this, what was it like to work with Virginia McKenna?

Dame Virginia was charming and brought us together as a family, helping me to concentrate on the story. I had a few scenes alone with her on Peel Island when Titty, who is pretending to be Robinson Crusoe, persuades her to play Man Friday. It was unexpectedly embarrassing because I lost a milk tooth halfway through one sequence and grew self-conscious about opening my mouth.

I coped better when handling her boat. I'm longing to be invited on a chat show when they gather together all the film actors who've played Robinson Crusoe. I'm pretty sure that I'm the only woman who has embodied the character in a movie.

I’m curious, were you able to sail before getting the part or did you have to learn?

I grew up by a lake and had crewed for my father, so I was used to small boats, but it was Simon West and Kit Seymour who knew how to read the wind. Their skill shines through and made the film great. No one asked if I could row a boat and yet Titty rows in three crucial scenes. It's more difficult than you might think when you have a Panavision camera onboard or are effectively towing the camera boat.

If I remember rightly there weren’t a lot of life jackets in the movie. Was health and safety not such a concern then?

The story is set in 1929, so none of us wore life jackets in vision. We could swim but the water was freezing, and our wooden boat lacked buoyancy of any kind. My father, who was an experienced sailor, was not happy with the safety aspects and nearly took me home. We'd been fine while sailing free but nearly collided with the Lakeland steamer while Dad was dressed as a film extra, looking down on us from the deck. He insisted on a safety officer after that.

Are you still a sailor or do you feel that part of your life is over?

The Arthur Ransome Society has just acquired both Swallow and Amazon, the clinker-built sailing dinghies used in the film, which are being restored for members to sail. I'm very much looking forward to taking them out on Windermere.

I am also a member of the Nancy Blackett Trust who keep the first yacht that Arthur Ransome bought with his royalties from 'Swallows and Amazons'. I've sailed her on the Orwell, on the Solent where I live, and through the inland waterways of the Netherlands.

You too can join the trust and imagine yourself as one of the characters in Ransome's books 'We Didn't Mean To Go To Sea' and 'Secret Water' in which his yacht is cast as the Goblin. It's wonderful reading those novels when you are on board.

I can’t help but wonder, how did your acting career help in your writing career?

It helps when writing dialogue - and film scripts.

Why the change from acting to writing?

As soon as I graduated from university, I went into television production at the BBC in London, where I began writing my first piece for Nicholas Parsons in 1982. I went on to write or edit about seven programmes that I produced when working for BBC Education. I only began writing books and articles in 1999 after turning professional as a wildlife artist. This was useful as I've been able to draw on my stock of illustrations

including decorative maps, which always look good at the beginning of a book.

You wrote a book, which I am reviewing for the magazine, called The Making of Swallows and Amazons. What was it like revisiting your past in this way?

I began writing that particular memoir as a blog using the diaries and scrapbooks that we'd kept on location as children. I was aided by other members of the cast, fans of the film and members of both The Arthur Ransome Society and Arthur Ransome Group on Facebook who helped me with historic detail. Once published, additional stories floated down from Cumbria, which was exciting. It's now in its second edition and is out as an audiobook. I've been gathering information for a third edition and a book about the making of 'Coot Club' and 'The Big Six', a serial made by the BBC that I worked on behind the camera in 1983. The first three chapters have already been included in the DVD Extras package.

What does a writing day look like for

you?

I usually wake early, sit up in bed and write for two or three hours before the emails pour in. If possible, I’ll keep writing until lunchtime, but the admin of life tends to encroach on my time.

Let’s get personal, maybe a silly question for a sailor but on holiday do you prefer sea or mountain and why?

Ah, you must read my book 'Ride the Wings of Morning'. I enjoy summer sailing but prefer riding horses through the hills.

If you could go anywhere in the world to write a book where would it be and why?

I've written most of my books in South Africa where the climate agrees with me. It's easier to concentrate in the wild.

What’s your favourite meal?

I'm a Celt - 57% Scottish with a bit of Danish blood. You'll find me at the seafood bar ordering gravlax followed by a rare steak - preferably from stock reared on the moor.

Do you prefer keyboard or notebook and pen?

I work with a notebook and pencil to start with, then bash away at my laptop, which is not good for the posture.

Last question, which one of your books do you recommend to Mom’s Favorite Reads readers?

I recommend 'Funnily Enough', based on a diary I kept about my family and the tame otters

we kept. It's light and amusing but says something about love and friendship. I hope it will inspire others to keep a journal or begin sketching. You'll find there’s an audiobook and a kindle copy illustrated in colour. I hope it proves a blessing.

Wendy H. Jones is the award winning, international best-selling author of the DI Shona McKenzie Mysteries, Cass Claymore Investigates Mysteries, Fergus and Flora Mysteries, Bertie the Buffalo children’s books and the Writing Matters books for writers. She is also a writing and marketing coach. You can learn more about Wendy on her website: https://www.wendyhjones.com/

The Making of Swallows and Amazons

Reviewed by Wendy H. Jones

Blurb

‘Sometimes extraordinary things do happen to ordinary people. Little girls can find themselves becoming film stars overnight.’

In 1973, Sophie Neville was cast as Titty alongside Virginia McKenna, Ronald Fraser and Suzanna Hamilton in the movie ‘Swallows & Amazons’. Made before the advent of digital technology, the child stars lived out Arthur Ransome’s epic adventure in the great outdoors, without even seeing a script.

As part of their schoolwork, the children kept diaries about their time filming on location in the lakes and mountains of Cumbria. Meanwhile, the hip, young, flares-wearing crew from Elstree Studios were getting to grips with transforming 1970s Bowness-on-Windermere in mid-holiday season into a 1929 idyll.

Sophie never guessed that the film, the making of which is told here through the pages of her diary, would become an enduring worldwide success.

‘The Making of Swallows & Amazons’ is illustrated throughout with many of the photographs taken by Sophie's mother and father during filming, as well as some of the evocative stills taken by Albert Clarke, the film's official photographer. Sophie herself has also drawn several beautifully illustrated maps of the filming locations in the Lake District.

Review

As it is the 50th Anniversary of the filming of Swallows and Amazons, I just had to review this book. Add to that, I love both the Swallows and Amazons book and the movie and you will

by Sophie Neville

get the picture of why this was the perfect book for me. Written by an adult but seen through the lens of a child through diary extracts, this book is informative, fascinating and a jolly good read.

Seeing behind the scenes was an absolute joy. I loved gaining insight into what the child actors and actresses went through to bring the movie to life. It is apparent they all loved what they were doing and enjoyed every moment despite the cold and the hard work. This is a book which should be read by all those who loved either the Swallows and Amazons book or the movie.

Funnily Enough by Sophie Neville

Reviewed by Wendy H. Jones

Blurb

A true story of faith, trust and determination.

Things you've always asked yourself and never really answered

When the plans you have made fall apart and you have no option but to let God take over, you might discover the most astonishing things.

Based on a diary of convalescence kept by the author Sophie Neville in 1991, this is the true story of a single girl who stops working in television to enjoy rural family life with a pair of tame otters. It looks at how to overcome chronic fatigue and realize your dreams.

Review

Given the subject matter of the book one would expect it to be sombre and heavy going, yet it is not. Sophie Neville has written it in such a way that it is easily read, entertaining and often laugh out loud funny.

I loved seeing a slice of this author and actress’s life even if it was at such a difficult time for her personally. The fact she kept journals throughout her life makes this an insightful and fascinating read. It does talk about her faith, as Neville is a Christian, but this is handled well and adds to rather than overwhelms the narrative.

As we are fast heading for the summer holidays and everyone is looking for holiday reads, I would say this would make the perfect beach read. You will not regret buying it.

Swimming With Dolphins

by Judith Galblum Pex

and wonder through my swimming with dolphins.

My town, Eilat, the southernmost city in Israel, is located on the Gulf of Eilat/Aqaba and is one of Israel’s premier tourist spots. We’re not famous for Biblical sites but rather for the clear blue sea, coral reefs, desert surroundings, as well as the many hotels, shops, and restaurants. We do, however, find mentions of Eilat in the Bible because Moses passed through here twice during the children of Israel’s forty-year desert wanderings, and Solomon maintained a fleet of ships in Eilat. The Byzantines, Nabateans, Romans, and other peoples also had settlements on these shores.

Each of Eilat’s beaches has a different character, but Katza beach is one of our favorites because, though it has no greenery, chairs, snack bar, or stunning coral reefs, we occasionally see fins of dolphins in the distance or if we’re lucky, one swims near us when it leaves the Reef.

The Dolphin Reef, located next to Katza beach and one of Eilat’s popular attractions, was established to allow visitors to meet and observe dolphins in their natural habitat. It has no outer net, unlike other dolphin parks in the world. The dolphins are free to swim into the open sea, returning to the Reef purely because they enjoy interacting with the trainers and tourists and are fed there.

Laid out with lush vegetation, beach chairs, shade, and a restaurant, guests can observe dolphins jumping and swimming. And, for a higher fee than they’ve already paid to enter the site, can snorkel or dive with the dolphins.

seven years ago from the U.S. and Holland and enjoy swimming nearly every day of the year. Each time we arrive at the beach, John tosses his shirt and towel on the pebbles, dons his mask and snorkel, and dives into the water. I always take longer, savoring the views of the rugged Mountains of Edom opposite us and the still, turquoise waters of the Red Sea.

“Hey,” John says. “Jump in fast. The dolphins don’t wait.”

“Wait,” I say. “How do they know when we’re coming? I may see them and not you.”

Some people claim they know the dolphins’ schedule but I haven’t found any patterns in their appearances.

When John has a grin on his face as he emerges from the sea, I can tell he’s seen dolphins. No matter how many times I’ve swum with them, I’m always startled when a dolphin appears. As I swim in the direction of the Reef, focusing on my breathing and on executing smooth freestyle strokes, suddenly from behind me, a large gray shape will stream by.

They’re often so close, I can look them in the eye, and they seem to be gazing at me. I could touch them but know it’s not allowed; all contact is meant to be from the dolphin’s initiative.

When I see their forms disappearing in the watery haze ahead of me, I begin to follow them, swimming with all my strength, while knowing my efforts are useless. The dolphins are in their element and my movements a clumsily flailing. I love seeing them flip over on their backs to reveal their white bellies. Like a dance or a game, they seem to be enjoying themselves.

There are times when we see dolphins every day and then weeks can go by with no signs at all. We may glimpse only one or see a few together. Similarly, there are times they stay around longer while other times they zoom by. The days we don’t meet dolphins just make me presume that when we do, they’ve sought us out, making our encounters more special. They’re known as sociable creatures, and I can sense their curiosity. Observing their playfulness as they leap out of the water and smiles when they come up for air. It all reminds me of qualities I want to cultivate more in myself.

Researching on the internet I learned that dolphins, one of the most intelligent mammals, use the clicks we hear when we’re swimming, together with whistles, as their mode of communicating with each other, and each individual has a unique “signature voice.” Just as astounding, through their echolocation – emitting sounds and listening to the echoes that return – dolphins are said to be able to detect the fetus in the womb of a pregnant woman.

One afternoon after a long swim without seeing dolphins, I came out of the sea and began drying myself off when I saw a fin break through the water’s surface in the distance. Without a

second thought, I put on my mask and snorkel, jumped in again, and began stroking quickly in the direction the fin had appeared. I soon found myself with a dolphin swimming in circles around and under me. Mesmerized by its underwater acrobatics, I slowed down my speed, nearly coming to a halt, with neither of us in a hurry to be anyplace else.

As I enjoyed those magical moments, time stopped until my feet and hands became numb from the cold. Reluctantly heading back to shore, I suddenly felt a sharp bump on my forehead and found myself lifted into the air, startled but not hurt.

John met me with a towel. “I saw what happened,” he said. “You shrieked and were tossed two meters in the air.”

“I didn’t know I shrieked,” I said, “and doubt it was two meters, but that’s the first time I’ve ever had a head bash from a dolphin. He must not have wanted me to go.”

I love the thrill of jumping in the water not knowing how many dolphins I’ll see and the awe these beautiful creatures bring into my life, realizing this is a privilege few people experience. I love introducing friends and family to our dolphin friends and seeing their expressions as their heads pop out of the water after an encounter.

Whenever we drive by Katza beach, I gaze over the calm sea knowing that dolphins are swimming somewhere below the surface, and I remember the lessons they teach me about playfulness, curiosity, savoring the moment, and the joy of being alive.

Based on an essay in the book “The Animals in our Lives – Stories of Companionship and Awe”

Judith Galblum Pex was born in the United States but has been living in Eilat, Israel with her husband, John, since 1976 where they manage the Shelter Hostel, a guest house for travelers from all over the world. Judith has written four books, Walk the Land –A Journey on Foot through Israel, A People Tall and Smooth –Stories of Escape from Sudan to Israel, Come, Stay, Celebrate: The Story of the Shelter Hostel in Eilat, Israel, and To Belong: A Novel.

The Sea Is In My Blood, But...

by Maggie Cobbett

The sea is in my blood. Well, it must be. Let’s examine the evidence. I’m British, after all, and we’re an island race with a proud maritime tradition. I love to look out over the water and have spent hours sitting near Flamborough Head watching the waves break against the shoreline.

Turner’s seascapes are amongst my favourite paintings. One of the happiest days of my life was spent in North Africa, overlooking the Pillars of Hercules and the line indicating where the grey waters of the Atlantic meet the blue of the Mediterranean. If that were not enough evidence, my paternal grandfather was a Master Mariner, and I was brought up on second hand tales of his exploits. Second hand, that is, because he died of drink more than three decades before I was born.

He was at sea when life under sail was still very tough, and I suppose he needed his grog. The trouble was that he needed it even more when back on shore and working for the Customs and Excise. He left behind a studio portrait of a handsome man with magnificent whiskers, an impoverished widow, and a large family of hungry children, one for each of his annual leaves. Still, I wish I’d known him. His blood-curdling yarns of savage floggings with a cat-o-nine tails, hand to hand fighting with cutlasses, shipmates sewn into their own hammocks and consigned to Davy Jones’s locker must have been passed down to him by old sailors he met as a boy. He came into the world half a century too late to have served un-

der Nelson but just in time to meet men who had. Oddly enough, he said little about the latter years of his career and the comforts of his rank.

His stories were of working aloft when not much more than a child, huge billowing sails in towering seas with a pitching wooden deck hardly visible below, and the dark and cramped conditions in which he had to sleep. He never tired of reminding my father and his brothers how fortunate they were to have comfortable beds to themselves, not shared with rats and other vermin. At mealtimes, he reminisced cheerfully about breaking his teeth on hard weevil infested biscuits and dry salt meat and having only putrid water full of maggots to drink when the grog ran out.

The story which really put them off their food was the one about having his seasickness cured by being forced to drink a pint of salty water from one of the Mate’s long rubber sea boots. His only daughter adored him and I suspect that these tales were told with a twinkle in his eye, but he was a stern father to the boys and they believed every word. Not one of them ran away to sea as he’d done and, when war broke out, they all joined the Army.

Apart from brief periods on troop ships, my uncles on that side of the family all managed to keep their feet on dry land. Dad, though, was one of the many soldiers of the British Expeditionary Force rescued at Dunkirk. Amused to find a photograph of the evacuation beaches in my school history book, he told me once that the seasickness he faced on the long journey back to ‘Blighty’ in a little fishing boat was far worse than anything the Germans could have done to him. During the whole of that crossing he’d prayed for someone to shoot him and put him out of his misery.

The only beach Dad ever visited with me was in Bridlington, where we spent our family holidays when I was a child. Money was very tight and the mother of one of our neighbours back home

in Leeds put us up every summer in her house in St Mary’s Walk near the Priory. The journey on the train with the wheels click-clacking, We’re going to Brid. We’re going to Brid, was always the start of a week of bliss for me.

to Brid. We’ve been to Brid, which always meant the end of our week away and no chance of seeing the sea again for another twelve months. Leeds is about as far away from it as you can get in England and even the carrier bags full of mint rock and plastic treasures won in Brown’s Amusement Arcade on rainy days were of little consolation.

Whatever the weather, we were down on the shoreline every day, building sandcastles, digging moats and paddling. Dad’s only concession to being on holiday was to take off his jacket, socks and shoes and roll up his trouser legs. Occasionally he’d remove his trilby hat, but he always kept his tie on.

Despite all my pleading, he could never be persuaded to take me on a pleasure boat trip out to sea, although he did once hire a rowing boat for us. We became ignominiously stuck in the harbour at low tide and had to be towed off to the cheers of the onlookers on the surrounding wall. I loved every moment of it but cannot say the same for my parents and I expect my grandfather was turning in his grave.

The other highlight of that particular holiday was when the donkey carrying me sedately across the sand decided to head into the sea with its owner and my father in hot pursuit. That day, Dad ran into the waves up to his knees, the furthest he ever ventured after Dunkirk. Not expecting to leave dry land, he hadn’t rolled up the legs of his new flannel trousers and the salt water took out all the colour. On the way home that year, his laments over the ruined flannels were even louder than the train wheels with their doleful We’ve been

My parents never went abroad for holidays, so when I first boarded a cross Channel ferry, I was eighteen and with a group of friends. For reasons of economy we’d chosen to set off from Tilbury Docks, which meant a long time on board, and we were all quite nervous, but only I was sick in the terminal before the boat even arrived. That set the pattern for my future dealings with the sea. Every crossing was an ordeal, even when the water was utterly tranquil and everyone else was heading for the bar or the cafeteria. Even years later, when accompanying school parties abroad, I had to tell my pupils to leave me in peace as I lay flat on my back with a coat over my face or dashed backwards and forwards looking for somewhere to be violently ill in private. This usually meant commandeering one of the cubicles in the Ladies and trying to ignore the angry banging on the door. Hanging over the rail on deck was an alternative I only tried once. There was a stiff breeze which... Well, perhaps that’s better left to the imagination.

Everyone told me that the root of my problem was psychological. It had to be, because I wasn’t generally queasy in cars, coaches, or aeroplanes and even Blackpool’s Big Dipper held no terrors. I just convinced myself before I set foot on board ship that I should be sick and

therefore I was. This was finally brought home to me when I met a very attractive young American on the train from Paris to Calais one summer. By the time we reached the coast he’d asked me to go out with him during his stay in England and he went on to make such a good impression that we were on the train to London before I realised that I’d finally crossed the Channel without a qualm. Unfortunately, the next time I went to France there was no such pleasant encounter on the way and I was back to square one.

I’ve been ill on the North Sea, the Tyrrhenian Sea between Italy and Sardinia, the Black Sea, the Sea of Marmara and the Mediterranean but never more wretched than on an ill-fated sailing trip around far too many of the Scottish islands. An enthusiastic boyfriend – not the American from the train – persuaded me that we should join a group of his friends for a week. His ambition was for us to sail around the world eventually in our own catamaran and he thought it would be a good opportunity for me to pick up a few nautical skills. All my instincts cried out against it, but I was keen on him at the time and feebly agreed. It might not be too bad, I told myself. Maybe even quite romantic. Starlit nights, the waves gently tapping against the sides... Mmm.

So it was that I found myself one cold wet morning standing by the quayside in Gairloch. A group of hearty bearded types and a girl of the jolly hockey sticks variety, all clad in yellow oilskins, bore down on us and we were soon underway in two small yachts. My stomach started to heave before I made it down into the cabin and that was the beginning of a week of abject misery. No one else was sick, they all expected me to do my share of cooking food I’d no hope of keeping down and my boyfriend turned into

Captain Bligh. The only respite I had was during the one afternoon when we were becalmed for several hours and he took me ashore in the dinghy, cursing our bad luck. Romance? Forget it! There were times during that week when I think he’d have liked to throw me overboard and times when I wished he would.

We made it back to Gairloch eventually and Captain Bligh and I parted company. I really couldn’t blame him. How could he head out into the Atlantic with a first mate who couldn’t even keep down dry bread between Skye and Harris?

Since those days, I’ve managed to avoid close contact with the ocean waves by flying above or driving beneath them. If I were in charge of choosing candidates for sainthood, aeronautical engineers and the men who built the Channel Tunnel would be at the very top of my list.

Yes, the sea is in my blood but, as long as it goes on demanding the contents of my stomach, I shall be content to view it from a safe distance.

A Yorkshire girl through and through, Maggie Cobbett lives on the edge of the Dales. With five books to her credit, she also writes short stories, features and even the occasional poem. Her many travels, as well as careers in modern language teaching and television background work, have furnished an inexhaustible supply of inspiration. http://maggiecobbett.co.uk/

Pirates

by Lis McDermott

One-eyed Jane, Black-heart Josh, and Captain Billy, Imaginations at boiling point, fully engaged in their pretend world; giggling, happy, rascal pirates watch the land flow past them, as they flee with chests of gold, diamonds and pieces of eight.

Their little boat joyously skims across the lake, It sails, canvas billowing as the wind blows the craft over the lightly moving, rippling wake.

Shouts of “aye-aye, cap’ain” and “guns at the ready”, echo across the blue expanse, into the treelined hills.

One-eyed Jane sits at the stern, with her toy telescope, Captain Billy is at the helm, Black-heart Josh searches their realm.

‘Land ho!’ shouts One-eyed Jane with glee, As their pirate hide-out appears; where they live like kings.

Full of their adventures, excitedly, the children, run home for tea.

After a long career in music within education, and as an OFSTED inspector, Lis began to focus on her other passions, photography, and writing. Working as professional headshot photographer and writing coach. She has since published numerous books on photography, poetry, short stories, and romantic suspense.

Côte d’Opale

by Anne Treur

Years ago, I stayed in the Côte d’Opale in France. It was a quiet campsite with a wonderful view of the Channel. One day, I decided, I would go back and stay there again, but this time in a Quilles en l’air, an upturned boat. Such a wonderful idea!

The campsite was close to Boulogne, just south of Calais. There are two cliffs or hills, Cap GrisNez and Cap Blanc-Nez, so plenty of beautiful scenery. Just behind the coastline, there are lots of reminders of the Second World War like bunkers and forts. There are also plenty of museums about the war.

Day trips from the Côte d’Opale

You simply have to visit both Caps. They’re not terribly high. The white Cap Blanc-Nez is just

over 495 feet. It does have a wonderful view, though, and you might spot the white cliffs of Dover. Take a picnic and a book and simply enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. On your way there, you will pass sweet little villages as well as the dark Cap Gris-Nez, but personally, I prefer the more northern Cap Blanc-Nez. Do take a jacket as it’s usually breezy up there.

Dover, Lille or Paris

You can visit the Côte d’Opale in a day from Dover. Simply get the morning ferry and spend the day looking around. From the campsite, it’s possible to get to Lille, which is also a beautiful city. In September, there is a large market in Lille that is worth visiting. Paris is about 250 kilometres but can be done in a day.

Boulogne-sur-Mer

Boulogne-sur-Mer, near the campsite in Equihen, has the largest fishing harbour in France. The centre of the city is lovely, there is a large sandy beach. You can go Sand Yachting. I haven’t tried it but it did look good! There is Nausicaa, a huge aquarium with sharks, sea lions and fish. Worth a visit, especially with children as you can touch some of the fish, apparently.

Camping La Falaise in Equihen-Plage

This was the campsite where I stayed in Equihen. You get a wonderful view and the village is quiet. It made for an ideal break. It’s not that far from England, but it gives you a real feel of France when you want to have a change of scenery.

Anne Treur is Dutch, living in the east of the Netherlands. She works as PA, but spends her free time travelling, writing, taking photos and blogging about it all! Come and travel along with her, through her website: https://www.ditisanne.nl/anne-reist-travelblog/europa/

Messing About On Boats

by Jenny Sanders

“Believe me my young friend, there is nothing –absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.’

These are the words of the, oh-so-wise Ratty, in Kenneth Grahame’s wonderful classic, The Wind in the Willows, as he expresses unbridled amazement that his landlubbing friend, the Mole, has never in his whole life been in such a craft.

My childhood was interspersed with stories about boats, and the sense of magic or adventure they could inspire. Captain Pugwash, was the bumbling pirate who was always trying to outwit his nemesis, Cut Throat Jake. Julian, Dick, and Anne, together with their cousin George and Timmy the dog, were forever rowing off to Kirrin Island in some Famous Five mystery or another. Treasure Island threw in a good dose of more pirates and treasure, while The Voyage of the Dawn Treader even boasted a dragon. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn had their share of fun on and in the water, and then, as the years passed, I discovered Moonfleet, Robinson Crusoe, Three Men in a Boat, The Old Man of the Sea, and even the somewhat interminable, though-somehow-stilla-classic, Moby Dick.

Unlike my fictional childhood heroes, I didn’t have an island to visit in my school holidays; solving mysteries never happened and all out adventures were thin on the ground in 1970s Surrey. Although the family spent time on Sidmouth beach in south Devon each summer, horror stories of children drifting out to sea on inflatable lilos discouraged us from pursuing such activities.

However, I did have a secondary school friend whose family owned one of those orange blow up dinghies. I remember the sunny day when I joined them at Virginia Water, near Runnymede (of Magna Carta fame), for a picnic and waterbased fun. But what I recall most vividly, is the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched the white plastic head of one of the rudimentary oars dislodge itself and disappear, apparently in slow-motion, sashaying down through the muddy water into murky oblivion.

I felt nothing but unbridled panic. Had it been my own family, I knew I would have been in Big Trouble. The fact that this equipment belonged to someone else simply increased my anxious foreboding. Perhaps this would truly prove to be the unforgivable sin. Owning up was a sobering experience but, perhaps for the first time, I truly experienced grace. No blame was thrown on my young shoulders at all. Instead, there was a nonchalant shrug, combined with a, ‘These things happen;’ followed by an affirming, ‘It’s just stuff,’ pronouncement that let me off scotfree. The relief was overwhelming. It was a seminal moment for me.

The same friend and I enjoyed many pleasurable hours paddling colourful canoes across the picturesque lakes of Ashburnham House, in Sussex; the venue of our youth group’s annual Easter house parties. Others paired off and went on romantic walks; those fortunate individuals with their own cars, took friends out for trips to local historic towns and scenic spots. But we wouldn’t have swapped our lake-times for anyone or anything. We discovered the truth

of Ratty’s words, revelling in the freedom of choosing which direction to head, taking in the extraordinarily beautiful scenery, or drifting along while gazing at the oh-so-welcome blue skies of spring.

It’s a fascinating and enduring fact that people are drawn to water. Is it because of the way it moves, I wonder? A living, active, everchanging element of nature, beneath which we imagine the interactions of a parallel, mysterious world.

Whether we run down to the sea, set up camp by a lake, or plunge into a river or stream, there is an attractional pull that’s difficult to resist. And why would we? This is where we find space to relax, allow our accumulated stress to melt away and our mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual cobwebs to be blown away. Here we breathe more deeply, slowing our heart rate and restoring a sense of well-being. Here, as Grahame’s water rat so astutely points out, ‘Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn, it’s always got its fun and its excitements.’

For the lucky few who live in coastal areas, the health benefits are well recorded. Indeed, it’s not so many years ago that people in England, certainly, would travel to the seaside and spa towns to take to the waters for the sake of their health. Nowadays, wild swimming has become increasingly popular, and that certainly doesn’t require a boat of any sort.

I am fortunate to have enjoyed the delights of boats on the fjords of Norway, and the lakes of Switzerland, a schooner on the Red Sea and, both the Suez Canal and the Mediterranean from the pampered indulgence of a cruise liner. However, one of my favourite experiences of messing about in a boat came in the autumn of 2018.

My husband and I had some work commitments in the east and discovered that, with a bit of clever admin, we could save a considerable amount of money by continuing around the world on flights, rather than simply buying a return ticket and retracing our flight path. By flying on, instead of back, we would have the happy opportunity to visit friends in both Australia and Canada.

Our friends have lived in Sydney for several years, raised their kids and started a business together. But what really floats John’s boat (quite literally) – if he isn’t surfing, or teaching others – is to compete in the Sydney-Hobart yacht race. He’s pretty good at it too.

How privileged were we then, when one of the yacht owners for whom John sails, allowed him to take us out one Saturday across Sydney harbour? My goodness, it was fun! Together with some other friends, we weighed anchor, hoisted the mainsail (I think) and struck out for deeper waters.

There’s something entirely different about being on a boat with your friends from being with a bunch of passengers with whom you have no connection and will, in all probability, never see again. We laughed a lot. We took note of the multiple ferries scuttling around the bay, admired the immensity of a cruise ship which was preparing to leave the sunny shores, and were suitably impressed by the multi-million-dollar yacht being put through its paces by a skilled crew on the other side of the harbour. We pulled our layers of clothing tightly round ourselves as the wind picked up beyond the shelter of the immediate coastline and were grateful to have at least one person on board who knew what they were doing.

We admired Sydney Opera House from a completely different angle, and sailed right out under the iconic bridge, where we turned around to avoid the choppier open water and ocean currents, before edging our way back towards the shore.

I’ve never had any great ambition to skipper a boat, and would have no idea what to do with all those ropes, jibs and spinnakers; but when offered the wheel, how could I refuse? For a few glorious moments, I sailed that beautiful yacht, the wind at my back and the biggest smile plastered across my face. Briefly, I had a glimpse of the fun people have in their largerthan-life toys. At the first sniff of a storm I think I might be scampering back to the safety of land, but that’s the joy of a day trip, right?

Owing to a slight snafu in our logistics, between us we’d failed to bring enough food for a proper picnic. Undeterred, one of our number –a renowned paddle board lover – availed himself of the equipment which was, fortuitously, on board. He set off at a cracking pace between the boats at anchor on the southern rim of the harbour and to, what he assured us, was the best fish and chip shack in the area.

We passed the time in a suitably relaxed fashion while the kids fished and helped him clamber back aboard with the parcel of fabulous smelling lunch carefully wrapped and wedged beneath his life jacket. I have seldom seen such a red belly! We tucked in with vigor, our food none the worse for its voyage. A simple but satisfying feast, which has lodged in my mind as one of the most memorable picnics we’ve ever enjoyed.

Like Ratty’s friend the Mole, we were temporarily, ‘Absorbed… intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight’ and it was magical indeed.

While I have no aspirations to own a boat or race a yacht, I have no doubt that Ratty knew what he was talking about and am content to revisit that special memory from the safety of land. Who knows, there may be time to make some more of them and shout, ‘Land Ahoy!’ again before we

Jenny Sanders is a writer, speaker, encourager and mentor. She loves writing, reading and walking in nature whenever she can. For the past several years she’s lived between the beautiful cities of Bath, UK and Cape Town, S Africa. Her exciting and humorous new children’s book The Magnificent Moustache and Other Stories is now available published by The Conrad Press.

Into The Blue

by Kay Bratt

Reviewed by Lisa Turley

Set in the beautiful paradise of Maui, life takes some unexpected turns for the Monroe family. They lose their daughter to the sea, or did they?

Jules finds herself in a dark tunnel when her body starts to turn on her. She has an unexpected health issue on the same day that her daughter Kira goes missing! Do they find that they are they bound together even more than they realised.

While Jules is in the hospital and unresponsive, her mother takes this opportunity to be the mother she never was and tries once again to make up for what she did all those years ago. Will it change their relationship, or will Jules continue to hold on to the bitterness?

Jules’ husband, Noah has been her rock through it all, but he too is feeling the strain of yet another missing daughter and his wife’s health problems. How much can one man endure?

This is a very touching story about unconditional love, past unresolved issues and bonding. I did not find it to be one of those reads that really has all the feels and a bit slower paced than I like, but it is definitely a thought provoking read. The characters were realistic enough that it made me question how I would react in their situation.

This is my first read by this author and I was not disappointed. It contains mild language.

Lisa Turley is from West Virginia. She is on numerous ARC street teams and reads in multiple genres, her favorites being historical and Christian Fiction and suspense. As a small business owner she knows the importance of promotion and is passionate about helping authors get the word out about their books.

Joy at the Ocean

by Tami C. Brown

What landscape brings you joy? For me it’s always been by the water, the pool, streams, lakes, and my favorite choice is the ocean. My soul breathes as I am near the ocean, I’m excited to see it, smell it, hear it and to find any treasure it wants me to have.

I love collecting sea glass, seashells, digging in the sand, seeing the baby crabs that scatter as

you try to hold them in your hand. I connect with the mermaids, though I can’t swim, maybe it’s because I don’t have the correct legs. I hope this spring takes you to wherever you find your joy. As I’m adding my pictures, they are local to my area as well as different states and countries, it makes me happy to share them with you.

Tami C. Brown loves to have her camera ready to snap beauty wherever she goes. Her family and friends, affectionately known as the Queenies, are well prepared for random stops along the journey to have a photo op. She’s grateful for all photography opportunities and the adventures that come along with it.

A Magical Day Out

by Marsali Taylor

It was back in July, when the BBC was warning the UK to wear ice cubes under their sunhats. Forgive us here in Shetland for the lack of sympathy; our main greeting up here was think we’re ever going to get a summer? had cold through April, grey clouds in May, wind in June and now July seemed settled into gloomy drizzle. My boat still hadn’t had her varnish done, nor her books back in their shelves.

All the same, I’d been watching the forecast and this Monday had been looking good all weekend. I headed out as soon as possible, in summer clothes, ie only one jersey and jacket over my thermals, and taking a bag with a spare jumper and an extra jacket just in case. The wind was from the west, but light enough for me to be able to hoist the mainsail in the berth, and in less than twenty minutes I was in the middle of the voe... becalmed.

There was a sail at the end of the voe, one of the Brae boats, and they seemed becalmed too. I set my sails and had just got moving again when there was a ‘whooo’ puff of air from beside me. I had visitors: a pair of white-sided dolphins who’d come to play.

It was a wonderful experience. I regularly get d only once, briefly, seen a dolphin. This pair stayed with me all the

and racing back to roll alongside me again. Peter, on the other boat, came down to see them, and they accompanied him for a while, stopping any chance he had of putting out a darrow, or hand line - any fish in the voe were definitely theirs! When they went off, they disappeared in a series of tail-slapping leaps.

I got out my picnic and enjoyed oatcakes and goat’s cheese as I headed off through Houbansette, for more treats: two pairs of raingeese, or red throated divers; a blackbird-sized Arctic tern harrying a Great Skua five times its size away in a series of angry dives. On shore, a tractor was going in decreasing rectangles round a field: silage. The sun came out.

Round the back of Linga, a chorus of creaky quacks alerted me to a fluster of mother eider ducks hustling a nursery of chicks out of the

way. I was particularly pleased to see them, as avian flu was bad up here last summer, devastating the gannet colonies in particular, and I’d heard reports of dead eiders on the west side.

dolphins leaping. I hit the stop button, let the main out again and waited. They came over and played for a minute, but then headed out to leap again. ‘Ah, well,’ I thought, and set the engine going again.

The dolphins heard it straight away, and came back in a series of leaps. Any speed I could do, they could do faster, they were obviously saying, and this was more like it! They somersaulted ahead of my bows all the way home, while I watched in disbelieving wonder.

It was a most special day, which I’ll remember

heads. The mothers were on patrol, several in front, a couple as rear guard, with the chicks in the middle, protected against maurading gulls.

The not-much-wind had shifted while I was out, so I was running home goose-winged, with Karima steering herself while I put my feet up on the opposite bench and relaxed. When the wind died away entirely I rolled up the jib, hauled the main in tight and started the engine – a run would do it good.

I was only half way down the voe when there was a smack of water not far from me, then the

Marsali Taylor studied English at Dundee University before teacher training. She moved to the Shetland Isles and has stayed there ever since. She’s the author of ten Shetland-set detective stories starring liveaboard sleuth Cass Lynch. She’s published a history of women’s fight for the vote and articles for Shetland Life. She also has a monthly column in Practical Boat Owner. Marsali spends her summer messing around on the water in her 8m yacht Karima S, and her winters involved in the village pantomime.

Ducklings

by Chantal Bellehumeur

Jane circled the pond

Of which she was fond

To try spotting bucks

And observe the ducks

As she was walking

Jane saw a duckling

A small fluffy thing

With cute tiny wings

Jane gleefully cheered

Then five more appeared

Out of some bushes

Close to the marshes

They swam while peeping

Rapidly moving

Going here and there

Without any care

They explored farther

Far from each other

Innocent and free

They looked so happy

Hearing their mom quack

To her they came back

All of them in tow

They swam in a row

Almost hitting Jane Landing like a plane

Papa duck arrived

And gracefully dived

The family of eight

Dipped their beaks and ate

Food from the water

And on land later

In the mud they played

After which they bathed

Succeeding their bath

The ducks crossed a path

On the paved bike lane

Mama quacked again

Her babies peeped back

Avoiding a crack

Hardly staying still They went up a hill Waddling together Behind their mother

They found a good spot Where it wasn’t hot And cuddled to sleep Not making a peep

Smiling the whole time Jane thought it sublime

To have the pleasure Of watching nature

Jane regularly Headed out to see The ducklings’ progress Which helped her with stress Every week they were A little bigger In two months they grew And away they flew

Chantal Bellehumeur is a Canadian author. She has several published novels of various genres as well as short stories, poems and articles featured in compilation books, magazines, plus a local newspaper. For a complete list of publications, including free reads, visit:

https://author-chantal-bellehumeur.webnode.com/products-/

The Bairns Are Back

by Marsali Taylor

Last summer, after two years, of Covid lockdown, we were at last able to have junior sailing again at our local club.

most experienced sailors took a ‘sailed-twoyears-ago’ beginner out in Picos, and the medium-experienced went out in pairs in the remaining Picos. The rest of the total beginners went out in the rescue boats and were swapped into the Sports. By the end of the first session, everyone had had a go at steering, and the older ones demonstrated a capsize before the traditional jumping off the pier.

The following week the seniors moved into the more demanding red-sailed Mirrors, leaving the Picos to the juniors. We used one of the toowindy sessions to work on rigging your boat, tacking and yes, wind or not, by popular de-

The first session produced a sea of small people in wetsuits. We’d got twenty-eight of them! Did we have enough boats...? Enough instructors...? Well, yes; two of our former trainees had returned as assistant Dinghy Instructors. and we had two Senior Instructors and a Dinghy Instructor as well as enough people with their power boat certificate to run three rescue boats, and experienced parents who’d keep them company as they zoomed round the voe.

do it. ‘Much better to try it first here in the marina rather than out in the voe,’ we said, but she was determined, and we couldn’t force her ... until she came back saying she wanted to jump off the pier. No, we replied firmly. If she wouldn’t capsize because it was too cold, she wasn’t going in swimming either.

Once she’d tried her first capsize, she liked it so much that she did it again.

As for boats, two instructors took three total beginners each in two of the large Sport 14s, the

We had ideal conditions for their first shot solo: a glorious sunny evening, with a gentle breeze blowing shorewards. They all rigged their Picos, had them checked, and got them tied along the pontoon (memo to self: knot work).

They had a lot of fun. The pair of brothers went neatly round like pros; the rest kept being blown down from the bouys and had to be directed back to the other one (memo 2 and 3: upwind sailing, and coming head to wind to talk to us). Although we’d done on-shore tacking practice thoroughly, there was a lot of confusion between hands, feet and tiller extension (the crews were in charge of the mainsheet, otherwise that would have joined the tangle) and (memo 4) we’d need to emphasis the helm being on the weather side of the boat. Confidence was great, everyone was smiling, and we stayed out an extra half hour. Reporting from the shore, our SI reported a memo 5: arriving at the pontoon. They’d gone for the stopping-byramming method. Such a good thing Picos are indestructible!

The next session was the final one, and the gusty day turned into another perfect evening. We talked about going into irons, and how to get out of it, and the idea was that we’d then do races: head to wind in a line, round the two buoys and back to head to wind to finish. We managed a couple, though never with all the boats together on the starting line.

To finish, we got out the sack of oversized pingpong balls in day-glo colours, which are thrown on the water for the children to gather up. It’s a fantastic way of teaching boat handling skills. The minute they see the bag a sort of feedingfrenzy descends, like sharks scenting blood. They abandon RYA method or being scared of gybing, and start flinging the boats around any old how. Cautious crews lean precariously out to grab either legitimate target balls on the water or less legitimate ones in the boat next to them. One pair got so excited that they capsized.

The official winner total was written up next to the boat name/your names list on the whiteboard. 47 balls to beat... though the pair who’d capsized reckoned they’d had more than that before they went over.

Once the schools go back we’ll begin our second six-week course. The nights are dimming, but they’ve got an incentive to rig quickly: their own Pico regatta at the end of September.

We try to make sure everyone gets a medal. Twenty-eight ... we might have to think up more races.

Marsali Taylor studied English at Dundee University before teacher training. She moved to the Shetland Isles and has stayed there ever since. She’s the author of ten Shetland-set detective stories starring liveaboard sleuth Cass Lynch. She’s published a history of women’s fight for the vote and articles for Shetland Life. She also has a monthly column in Practical Boat Owner. Marsali spends her summer messing around on the water in her 8m yacht Karima S, and her winters involved in the village pantomime.

KIDS CAROUSEL

Interview with Greta Yorke

by Pauline Tait

This month, I have invited Scottish author Greta Yorke along to Kids Carousel to tell us about her books and writing career.

My first adventure into writing was with poetry which was published in Church Magazine, then I became a member of Ayr Writers’ Club.

I was teaching 5-year-olds at the time, and I won a little knitted witch in a school raffle. It was so lovely I asked the lady who knitted it if she would knit me 10 little witches which I would use as a number resource in the classroom.

The lady kindly knitted the witches and when they arrived, they were all different colours. What a super teaching resource! I was inspired to write a story about the witches including number, colours, repetition and recall. This story, Witch Hitch, won the Under 7s category at the Scottish Association of Writers’ Conference in 2010. I tried submitting the story to various traditional publishers but unfortunately had no success.

My daughter always told me not to give up, she said if I had faith in the story I should persevere.

Sadly, my daughter passed away in 2012 leaving me a small legacy. I knew exactly what to do with this, I self-published the story.

The book was successful, and I published another story, The Woo in the Wild Woods, which is out of print now. The witches had been so popular people told me to write more about them, this prompted the Tartan Witch story which is told in Scots and English. A third witches’ story has now been published with much success, Tartan Witch and the Highland Escapade.

When the terrible pollution in our seas was identified, I wrote ‘How the Pirates Turned the Tide’ which addresses the pollution issue, healthy eating and sustainability.

‘Elbo the Elf’ story tells of one of Santa’s elves who spends too much time playing electronic games. Needless to say, he learns a lesson.

During Covid lockdown I completed my children’s middle grade novel, In the Dark, a story which explores many issues facing young people.

I have just returned from the Scottish Association of Writers’ annual conference where my latest story, The Prickle Picker, was placed first in the Under 7s category.

I am a member of LiterEight, 8 Ayrshire-based women, and we are about to publish our fifth anthology of poetry and short stories.

I find inspiration all around, especially from Nature. I talk a lot to my grandchildren and those children I meet at school or library visits and appreciate the interaction in follow-up activities after readings.

Life as an author certainly occupies my time in retirement. As a self-publisher I have to keep on top of orders, marketing, promotions, selling, tax returns and writing of course!

My books are available from various local outlets, independent book shops, Amazon UK and, of course, direct from me.

I enjoy presenting knowledge to children in a fun way and I follow my dreams.

gretayorke@yahoo.com

Twitter: @greta_yorke

Facebook: Greta Yorke Author.

And now, in keeping with this month’s theme of sailing, Kids Carousel is delighted to be reviewing one of Greta’s picture books.

How the Pirates Turned the Tide

Written by Greta Yorke

Illustrated by Maggie Bolton

Published by Mags2publishing.uk

For ages 5 – 7 years

When your gran zooms around the countryside on a silver scooter, you know there’s going to be far more to a picnic by the sea than sandwiches and sandcastles.

After eating their picnic, Gran spies rowing boats and decides to sail out to sea. Stopping to rest, she and her grandson close their eyes and enjoy the peace as the boat rocks back and forth in the water.

But they are soon awakened by a loud roar and open their eyes to discover a pirate ship towering above them. Instead of rowing to safety, Gran leads the way as they climb aboard.

They find Captain Black and his men tired, hungry, and surrounded by litter. Instead of being frightened, Gran marches up to Captain Black and orders him and his men to clean the ship. And, while her grandson helps the pirates, Gran cooks them a healthy curry.

The pirate ship is scrubbed clean, laundry washed, and beds changed, just in time for a plate of healthy curry and a bedtime story.

The next day, Gran and the pirates go ashore to buy fresh fruit and vegetables before returning to build circuit stations for exercise in the afternoon and plant vegetable seeds.

And when Gran discovers that Deadeye Dan follows the pirates and raids their ship for food, she helps the pirates realise that with healthy

food, plenty of exercise and a good night’s sleep, they are strong enough to protect their ship and keep Deadeye Dan away.

How the Pirates Turned the Tide is a beautifully illustrated picture book that manages to pack quite a punch into its twenty-four pages.

With delightfully detailed illustrations that will captivate any age, the healthy undertones throughout the story promote the importance of healthy eating, exercise, and a good night’s sleep.

The book touches on sustainability and the importance of keeping our seas pollution free. And, although first published in 2018, this is a timeless story that manages to subtly intermingle a child’s love of pirates with a passion for a healthy lifestyle and the importance of looking after the planet.

A picture book packed full of adventure and fun with a healthy dose of positive messages to boot. What’s not to like!

How the Pirates Turned the Tide is available in paperback.

When Barnaby Went to Sea

by Pauline Tait

With a suitcase in one paw and a packed lunch in the other, Barnaby hurried towards the tiny boat tied to a giant palm tree. He had spent weeks weaving it from twigs and leaves, and now, if he timed it just right, he would catch a wave as the tide came in, and he’d soon be on his way.

Barnaby was off to see the world. He’d heard many exciting stories from the sailors who visited the island, and now Barnaby was about to see it all for himself. After freeing the boat from the palm tree, he jumped aboard, made himself comfortable and took hold of the oars. Now, all he had to do was wait.

Barnaby waited and waited. His patience eventually rewarded as the tide brought the crashing waves closer. Holding on tightly, Barnaby squealed in excitement as his precious boat was carried out to sea.

As he plunged the oars far into the deep blue water, Barnaby guided the boat towards the open sea. Seagulls squawked above him. Waves crashed around him. Barnaby smiled the happiest smile as his little boat bobbed up and down, rising and falling with the tide.

He stopped rowing and looked back at his island home, now just a speck in the distance. But only for a moment. There was a whole world to see, and it was almost lunchtime.

As waves carried him east, his arms worked the oars. And it wasn’t long before he spotted an island in the distance. It looked a lot like his island, but given he’d been sailing for most of the morning, he was sure he’d sailed halfway around the world by now. It had to be one of the far-off lands the sailors had told him about.

Guiding his boat ever closer, he reached the sandy beach just as his tummy rumbled the loudest rumble. Deciding a picnic on the beach would be a good idea, Barnaby found the perfect spot under an old palm tree. Taking a blanket from his suitcase, he unpacked his lunch. He had cheese and bread, grapes, and a biscuit. Just enough to fill him up until dinner.

And now, belly full, Barnaby lay back with his paws folded comfortably behind his head and enjoyed the midday sun. It’s a sailor’s life for me he chuckled before deciding a nap was in order.

An hour or so later, the afternoon sun disappearing behind a cloud caused Barnaby to yawn himself awake. It was time to get back out on the open sea. So, once again, Barnaby packed his belongings into his boat and rode the crest of the waves until he reached open water.

But the sea breeze carried him further from the island until no land was in sight. And, while his paws worked the oars, Barnaby’s boat was tossed around. The waves were getting bigger, and the breeze was getting stronger.

Deciding it must be one of those horrendous storms the other sailors had told him about, he grinned the biggest grin. He was beginning to feel like a real sailor now. But he was also wondering how he would steer his boat home. The sea was too rough to use the oars. All he could do was hold on tight while the sea tossed his little boat around.

The sun was beginning to set when Barnaby, and his boat, were thrust from the water. The sea falling away, they soared through the air. Today was turning into the adventure of a lifetime, and Barnaby couldn’t help but cheer the loudest cheer as he peeked cautiously over the side.

A dolphin grey, sleek, and riding the waves, was carrying Barnaby and his boat on its long slender snout. It swam through the waves with the utmost ease and soon guided Barnaby and his boat safely into the calmer waters of the island bay.

Releasing Barnaby and his boat, the dolphin gave a high-pitched squeal goodbye. Barnaby shouted thank you to his newfound friend before rowing towards the shore.

What a day it had been. He had sailed around the world, picnicked on a desert island, and rode a sea monster home. Oh, the sailor stories he had to tell.

Pauline Tait is a prolific novelist and children’s author. Based in Perthshire, Scotland, she writes both suspenseful romance and children’s picture books for 3 to 7 years. With a background in Primary Literacy Support, Pauline is passionate in encouraging children in their own reading and writing.

Visit Pauline’s website – https://paulinetait.com

Sea Robin (or, things I learned from a derelict sailboat)

by Cherime MacFarlane

“What do you think?”

He walked around the thirteen-foot day sailor. I didn’t need a tour of the small boat with the deep keel. I could see the peeling paint and the hole in the bow. If anything screamed rescue me, the little boat did.

The trailer it sat on put the vessel far too high in the water for a decent launch. Someone had hand built the thing. A person would need to drive the car or truck towing it too far out into the water.

The sign on it put it in the price range of what we wanted as long as you didn’t total up the materials needed to fix it. Then there was the absence of any sail. We’d be spending all our time and energy on the boat.

I’d just learned that morning, I was pregnant, and it occurred to me I might spend the entire nine months working on it. Then again, we did little for fun. Too broke. The little sailboat wouldn’t help that.

“We can do a lot of this by ourselves.”

“Uh-huh. It’s going to be expensive.”

“But think of the fun…”

“Alright. Go tell the man we’ll take it.” I had a hard time telling him no.

We filled the hole in the bow with a layer of plywood. Time for the maiden voyage to test it out. Our patch was great. We made the discovery of the leaking daggerboard in the water. A kind soul towed us back to the dock while we bailed like crazy.

I knew about the Dutch boats that used retractable leeboards on either side of the hulls instead of daggerboards. Okay, we could do that. So instead of a daggerboard keel, it would have leeboards. In preparation, we fiberglassed the entire hull. The light blue tint we added looked better than I thought.

It got harder to climb on top of the overturned hull in the garage as I got bigger. Time to purchase a stepstool.

We got the leeboard fittings from a smaller sabot class sailboat. Both boards, cut from marine grade plywood, got several healthy coats of varnish.

We stepped the mast, got out on the water and discovered it hardly moved under sail. Another kind soul suggested someone had cut down the mast, and it was too short to work. We couldn’t afford another mast. Well then, how about gaff rigging it? Sure.

That meant getting a new sail. No money for that expense. I had an old singer treadle sewing machine. Enter yards and yards of canvas. Good thing the apartment had a long living/ dining room combo.

We laid the sail out with ice picks stuck through the cloth and into the floor. On hands and knees, I cut the canvas and began sewing. It took me a week. We ate in the bedroom for the entire time.

He didn’t care for the tan canvas. We dyed it red. I had to rinse the bathtub five times to get the dye out.

Then we took it out again. It flew! Sea Robin carried nearly double the sail area it had when it first started life. It was doing so well; it broke both leeboard fittings. Off to the store for new ones.

This time, we put a loop fitting on the bottom of one board and a jam cleat on the other. When you dropped the leeboards, you had to pass the line under the boat and tie the boards together, so they didn’t bow out to the sides and break the fittings again.

But the little blue boat with the huge red sail became a fixture in southern California that summer. It could surf. He and a friend spent a lot of time surfing in Sea Robin.

Cherime MacFarlane is an award-wining, bestselling, prolific, multi-genre author. She has a broad range of interests that reflect her been there– done that life.

Discover more about Cherime on the Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/cherimemacfarlane/

BE MORE SPANIEL

The Wonderful Life of a Dog In Ministry

by Peter Thomas

I very nearly became a sniffer dog for His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs. During the classes where they teach humans how to look after their puppies, I was particularly skilled at scent training. I could track down my training elephant however hard they tried to hide her around the barn. If I was on duty at border control no contraband furry toys would be smuggled past my spaniel nose.

Even the most timid of pupils become confident when they are reading to Harry.

The paths before my sister Willow, my brother Teddy and I, were obvious from the day we were recognised as The Furry Trinity. Our human daddy was a Baptist minister and so we were all puppies of the Manse. Poppy was a clergy-dog and before we were six weeks old the three of us received the same calling. Willow became Pastoral Canon of Coventry Cathedral. Teddy went to a Vicarage, and I stayed with Poppy to give our humans the extra help they obviously needed.

Assistance dogs and therapy dogs need specialised skills but the duties of Dogs In Ministry are much more general and varied. We excel in demonstrations of horizontal meditation in bizarre positions, anywhere and at any time. I help my daddy stay awake as he writes his sermons by nudging his laptop off his knee and I edit articles for the church magazine by devouring any which fall below my exacting standards.

Unfortunately, another part of the training included demonstrating complete focus by “running the gauntlet”, walking off-lead to heel from one end of the room to the other while everybody else in the class deliberately tried to distract me by waving tasty treats. My good manners put me at a disadvantage, I always felt it rude to refuse their delicious offerings. But apparently the aim was not to eat as many snacks as possible on the way past.

Our true Mum Poppy told her puppies that we were destined for great things. Her mum had won something at Crufts, but Poppy never had any interest in beauty contests and nor did we. Our posh big sister (named Holly Hippopotamus because she used to eat more than everybody else) was headhunted to become Chief Squirrel Warden at Kew Gardens. Our brother Harry went into education as a Reading Dog.

Clergy-dogs clean the carpet wherever any cake has been eaten. We make friends with everybody, and we joyfully invite humans who are nervous or in distress to stroke our soothing

fur. Dogs In Ministry don’t preach or do current affairs very much. We just make the world a happier place by being cute and cuddly. You’re welcome.

Our parents have now both retired, which means even more walks in the woods and swims in the sea. But while our daddy snoozes, our doggy ministries are still as busy. Years ago, we realised that there was a pressing need for clergy-dogs to encourage and support each other. So, using the agency of the interweb, Poppy, Willow, Teddy and I were the founders of “Dogs In Ministry”, the first and only ecumenical fellowship for clergy-dogs which, up until now, has gathered more than a thousand members worldwide.

Inspired by our Patron Saint, Snoopy, we share wisdom and experience on Facebook and meet together regularly in convocations over Zoom. We even produce our own professional and academic paw-reviewed journal, “Furred Way”, pushing back the frontiers of the revolutionary discipline of Theology of the Paw.

Each year we celebrate September 9th as “Buy A Dog In Ministry a Sausage Sandwich Day”. It’s all true – just google us. The work of a Dog In Ministry is never done, but it’s the best dog’s life in the world!

Peter Thomas has published three non-fiction books and is delighted to assist Sophie in her creative writing projects. Peter retired in 2023 after 36 years as a Minister of local Baptist Churches - he was originally a teacher of chemistry and computing. He continues to add to his blog of more than a thousand sermons and reflections found at www.pbthomas.com.

by Maressa Mortimer

My husband and I love travelling, so when the kids came home, we thought our travelling days were done. Fortunately, our kids like travelling too so we have been able to revisit our favourite places as well as go to new ones.

My son kept trying to stand up to have a better look.

It felt so logical, sitting in the tiny gondola, which rocked every time someone sneezed or moved, staring at the ice-cold water that wasn’t too clean. Standing up was not an option. For my son, it was totally different. Anyway, we made it to the end of the tour dry and well, and my son had a great time. I did enjoy it, although I saw more of my gorgeous son than the beautiful city.

Travelling is rather stressful, for although they like travelling, seeing packed bags causes a lot of stress, making it harder to go places. Once we’re out, life is much more plain sailing. One January, we went to Venice as our Christmas present. Given my kids are drowning in toys, we decided to give experiences, rather than stuff for Christmas. So Venice it was. It was just the right temperature and not so busy. We walked miles each day, bribing the kids with hot chocolate and pizza. They loved the quirky streets and many canals, especially the bus boats.

One day, we decided to go on a gondola. We managed to all fit in one, and we soon floated away from the stairs. Then I realised that not understanding consequences, as well as a lack of trust in adults, isn’t a great skill in a gondola.

As a writer, this intrigued me, as we often make assumptions about our characters. They will be logical, sensible beings. What if they don’t understand the situation, though? Would they listen to anybody’s advice? And would our characters make the same mistake over and over, or are they able to learn from their mistakes? It made me wonder, looking around sunny terraces in May, watching the world go by. What are people like in real life, and do my characters reflect that?

Maressa Mortimer is Dutch but lives in the Cotswolds, England with her husband and four (adopted) children. She a homeschool mum and pastor’s wife, so her writing is done in the evening when peace and quiet descend on the house. Maressa’s books are available from her website, www.vicarioushome.com, Amazon or local bookshops.

The Story of Fire: Part 2 of the Five Phases of Energy

by Eileen Rolland

Fire is fed by Wood and controlled by Water. It is often represented by a flame or by the colour red. Fire energy takes that which Wood has brought into being to the next level. It is represented by the strong Yang of Summer when buds open and everything is in full flower. It is a time when the earth is alive with colour, fragrance and sound. The days are long, and full of heat and light. People are most active too, taking advantage of this natural peak of activity. Projects have gone from humble beginnings to works in progress and are now in full swing. People involved with them are excited, ‘fired up’ and willing to put in extra effort. Care must be taken not to overdo it. Fire can be destructive too. It spreads, consumes and swallows up everything in its path if not controlled by Water’s strong Yin influence.

Fire has many faces. It is associated with transformation. Whether baking a cake, firing clay in a kiln or forging metal, fire alters the internal structure to produce something new and different. On an emotional level, Fire energy can alter our attitudes, for example by changing the pain we feel from a given situation and motivating us toward new growth, making us stronger. Many cultures include fire in their traditions. In

that respect, it has often signalled a connection with the Divine with everything from candles for prayer or meditation, to ritual fires and even bolts of lightning. There is a connection with spiritual awareness, when an individual recognises the spiritual aspect of their being and begins to find ways to nourish it. Fire is also associated with passion, whether a romantic attachment, a strongly held belief or an inclination towards something, like a ‘passion’ for the outdoors.

In the human body, Fire energy is associated with adolescence, the time when the body transforms and the infant from the Wood phase goes from being a child to becoming a young adult. The child is transforming physically and emotionally and looking to find their place in the world. Fire directs us to connect with other people, to find common interests and forge new friendships. After all, Fire’s Yin organ is the Heart and the Heart houses the spirit. The Yang organ is the Small Intestine. It is said to help us determine what is true and is the source of our ‘gut reactions’.

The Fire element is unique in that it has two other organs associated with it - the Heart Protector (Pericardium) and the Triple Heater

(Sanjiao). These are not recognised as organs in western medicine but, because they have their own energy channels, they are used in Chinese medicine for diagnosis and treatment.

The Pericardium is the band of muscle that surrounds the Heart and protects it. The Triple Heater is essentially the torso divided into three parts. The upper part is everything above the diaphragm - the Heart and Lungs; the middle part is the Spleen/Pancreas and Stomach and the lower part is the Kidneys and Bladder. These are sometimes referred to as the body’s ‘cooking pots’, hence the term Triple Heater’, as they are the places where qi is gathered and transformed.

Fire’s flavour is Bitter. Some examples of foods with a bitter flavour are romaine lettuce, rye, alfalfa, watercress, bitter melon, dandelion greens and aloe juice.

Fruit that grows around a central seed, such as cherries, apricots and peaches are also associated with Fire and foods that spread outwards

as they grow - spinach, kale and broccoli.

Deficient Fire energy is indicated by palpitations or a weak pulse. A person might feel restless, have trouble sleeping or have cold hands and feet. An excess would show a ruddy complexion or the person might have a pounding pulse or be subject to infections or inflammation.

Fire helps to promote the existence of Earth by creating ash, so Earth is next in the cycle.

The Story of Earth: Part 3 of the Five Phases of Energy

Earth creates order out of chaos. The energy of Earth is contained in the organs of the Stomach (yang) and Spleen (yin). When referring to the Spleen, we also include the pancreas. Earth comes from Fire and is considered the main stabilising force of the Five Elements. It is at the centre of everything and change happens slowly as Yang forces change gently to Yin, or vice-versa.

The Stomach is responsible for the second stage of digestion, chewing being the first stage. The Spleen acts primarily as a filter, removing waste material from the blood. In Eastern medicine the Stomach not only controls the breaking down of foods but also directs the movement of Qi. The Spleen-Pancreas builds Blood and Qi; controls tissue and holds things in place, helping to prevent prolapse; it opens to the mouth and manifests in the lips; and it houses thought. As well as stomach and appetite disorders, things like worry, over-thinking, confusion, obsession, anxiety and self-pity can indicate problems with Earth energy.

The season of Earth is late summer, or Indian summer, and is also related to the transition between the seasons. Earth manages the forces of the other elements and helps to bring them into balance. It is the time when fruits and flowers are maturing and reaching their full potential. In human development, it is represented by early adulthood when many people think of ‘settling down’ and consider the stabilising effects of home and family.

Earth gives us food that are naturally sweet, such as root vegetables and a wide variety of fruits. Also included are grains, mushrooms and some herbs. All food should be well chewed to aid the process of digestion and

make the stomach’s job easier. The Spleen likes warm foods so constantly eating cold and raw foods can weaken the Spleen. It also dislikes slimy food such as ice cream and yogurt and drinks that we might normally have ice cold, are better at room temperature.

Earth is also exemplified in human behaviour when people collect things. Whether it’s coins or classic cars, it is this gathering action that is part of Earth’s energy. People coming together to build a community is also Earth energy in motion. Collecting becomes a problem when it changes into clutter and indicates an Earth imbalance.

In terms of projects, this is the time when we have dealt with all the teething problems and the exuberance of Fire has settled down. Now procedures are in place and things are running smoothly.

Earth promotes the existence of Metal by producing ores. We will discuss Metal, as well as Water, in the next issue.

Eileen Rolland began learning Tai Chi and Qigong in 1997 and has taught classes in both disciplines since 2004. Now that she is retired, she uses her training and experience in her writing.

Find out more about Eileen @: www.eileenrolland.com

What is a Mood Board?

by Gerdie van Wingerden

A Mood Board is a collage to give you ideas of styles or colours you would like to use. When you think of a plan, making a Mood Board can help you to visualise your ideas. Some thoughts for a makeover for your home can be helped as it makes your thoughts less abstract. You can make a Mood Board online on Pinterest, for example, by searching for certain words and saving the pictures. More practical is a physical Mood Board. One made on simple cardboard. In my blog (see below), I explain more about this as well.

What can you use it for?

A Mood Board is a great start when you plan to

make changes, or you just want to weigh things up. You can make a Mood Board about yourself. From magazines, you can cut pictures, quotes, and colours you like. This way, you’ll get a good idea of who you are, and others can get to know you that way as well. This is great if you want to work with other people. My blog is about Homes, and Mood Boards are ideal for this. Maybe you’re thinking of doing up your bathroom or kitchen. There are so many colours, textures, and ideas. Choosing one style can be hard. Whilst thinking about the room you’re going to work on, collect home magazines and think about the room. What will you use it for?

Making a Mood Board

As we said, you can make a Mood Board online via Pinterest. It’s easy to use and you can access your Mood Board whenever you need to. Pinterest even remembers what you’ve been looking for, so gives plenty of suggestions.

I prefer a paper Mood Board. You can glue things onto your board, like paint and fabric samples and of course pictures from magazines. Don’t just pick photos of things you like, but also choose those where you like the atmosphere of a room. And you can always chop up a picture, just to get the colour scheme. Add pictures that suit you and that enhance your plans. Use a large piece of cardboard, such as A3. It’s easier to make a board per room, rather than for the entire house. On the back of the Mood Board, you can keep a list with the names of colours and shops that you liked, as well as maybe a map to show the layout of the room. That way, your Mood Board isn’t just fun, it’s useful as well.

Besides my blog, I offer help with designing rooms, it’s wonderful to be able to help somebody to choose their colours and styles.

Gerdie van Wingerden is a Dutch blogger and mother of four children. She loves to share her passion for homemaking and interior design. Gerdie works in a Home and Giftshop as a stylist, as well offering her services as advisor on her website, No34.nl, where her blogs are regularly posted as well. https://www.no34.nl/interieur/zijden-bloemen/

A Cruise on Lake Ontario

by Val Tobin

even if you don t own a boat. What s more, you can go out on it with a fishing charter and not fish. While some would consider that crazy talk, I don’t enjoy fishing, have a tendency to get seasick, and cool lake breezes just leave me cold.

But what I discovered after my husband won a six-hour boat cruise on Lake Ontario was that cruising around Lake Ontario on a yacht can be fun, and, while I still don’t want to fish, I can understand the allure for those who do, especially when we hooked what looked like the biggest fish of the derby less than an hour before we were to end our cruise. With a potential $48,000 in prizes up for grabs, it appeared we had some beginner’s luck on our side.

However, if all you want to do is cruise around a lake doing nothing at all, a charter can accommodate that as well. It’s possible to get packages of varying duration that include such things as Yoga on one of the Toronto Islands for those who don’t want to fish or spend all their time on the boat. Often, you can have meals catered on the boat, or you can bring your own picnic or potluck to keep costs down. The result is a spectacular day that you will never forget or it will be, as long as you plan it carefully.

What You Need to Know When Chartering a Boat

According to Izzi, boats that take passengers out onto the lake for a fee are automatically considered commercial boats in Ontario. He says, “There are regulations, as far as taking people out who have paid you to take them out and captain the boat for them. To be operating a commercial vessel, you need a captain’s license, which is called a Master Limited. You would need a few other courses.”

Why Charter a Boat?

There are many reasons for chartering a boat and mostly these would depend on the group planning the trip. According to Ernie Izzi, owner of Izzi Charters in Port Credit Harbour Marina in Ontario, the groups that book his charters are mostly business owners doing team building or bringing sales teams or clients out for the day. He also does birthday parties, couples retreats,

The first thing you should verify, then, is that the charter you are looking at adheres to all government regulations. You can confirm this by checking with the operator what certifications they have and visiting the relevant government website to confirm the requirements. In Canada, this information would be found on the Transport Canada website, where they provide a Passenger Vessels FAQ page for people who are planning to book a charter.

Bad Weather and Big Fish

Find out the cancellation policy in case you must cancel or if the operator cancels the trip

because of inclement weather. Most operators will charge a cancellation fee if you back out but won’t charge you if they cancel. Izzi says that in the latter instance, he tries to reschedule before he gives up and cancels the trip.

If you are interested in trying to win a fishing derby, consult with the operator on the best time to take out the boat. According to Izzi, if you’re going after the big one, the best time to leave is at 4:00 AM. The alternative is to stay out late. This is because the big fish come out when it’s dark. Communicate with your operator so that he/she knows the exact purpose of your trip and can help optimize it for you.

Life Vests, Safety Briefings, and Seasickness

The operator of your boat should take you through a safety briefing and alert you to the locations of life vests and safety equipment. Izzi took us through such a briefing before we even left the harbor. The operator should also prepare an ice chest to store any fish caught and kept. According to Izzi, the charter should have lots of ice. Make sure they use a cooler. Fish can turn bad in ten minutes.

For those who know they are prone to seasickness, Izzi recommends taking something like

Gravol at least an hour before getting on board. Once you’re out there and feeling ill, it’s too late. There are natural remedies available to help with seasickness as well. Consult your natural healthcare practitioner on what would work best for you.

Izzi keeps seasickness bracelets on board his boat but says avoiding seasickness is better than trying to deal with it after you start feeling sick. He recommends making sure that you don’t show up for your cruise with an empty stomach nor with one that is too full, as he has seen people get sick under both conditions. In my case, that seemed to work, because I didn’t take any preventative measures other than making sure my stomach wasn’t too full or too empty, and I was fine.

Chartered Boats and Fishing Derbies

Chartering a boat is a wonderful way to spend a sunny day, even for reluctant fisher-people. You can do many things on board that don’t involve fishing. However, the prize for the largest fish caught during the derby might just be enough to lure you into the sport. On our trip, it was reported as $48,000 in prizes that included a Toyota truck.

If you decide to participate, make sure you

know what you need to do to enter. Not only should you read the rules and regulations for your particular derby, but you also need to know if you have to purchase tickets separately from your charter. Izzi Charters automatically provides passengers with an entry ticket into the fishing derby with the price of the charter, but not all charters do this. Don’t assume.

what we would need ourselves. Thermoses of coffee and hot water for tea are always nice to have, especially if it’s cool on the water that day. If you want to bring alcohol, discuss this with the operator, as liquor laws vary. In Ontario, commercial vessels need a liquor license to serve alcohol.

If you’re planning to take home any fish you catch, bring a cooler with ice to preserve them during the trip home. Izzi cleans and fillets the fish for his passengers, though not all operators will do that task.

Is Eating Sport Fish Safe?

Pollution reaches the waters of even the most remote lakes, and Lake Ontario is anything but remote. While many of the fish caught in Lake Ontario are edible, it’s important for anyone considering eating fish they catch to verify they’re safe to eat. This is especially critical for pregnant women and young children.

If you happen to catch the big one, then you get the prize (or prizes), as long as you have an entry ticket. It is up to you if you want to give any reward to your captain and crew, though I hope you do. Also, determine ahead of time with your fellow passengers how you will divide up the winnings. Do only those who fish share in the prize? Do only those who help land the fish share in the prize? You wouldn’t want to lose friendships over a fish, no matter how many thousands of dollars might be involved.

What to Bring with You onto the Boat

UV rays from the sun reflect off the water and you need to protect your skin and your eyes from over-exposure to the sun. Bring hats, cover-ups, and sunscreens. Izzi’s boat has a cover and a cabin where passengers can escape the sun, but not all boats have such facilities.

Speaking of facilities, verify what type of washroom is available on the boat. On our tour, there was a bathroom with a flush toilet and I was grateful. Not all boats have that, but Izzi Charters has a 45-foot yacht with every comfort.

If you’re bringing your own food, find out if you need to bring your own plates, cups, utensils, and so forth. Our boat had a full kitchen, which included a refrigerator and everything we needed for our picnic, though we brought most of

The Ontario Ministry of the Environment website offers an interactive guide to eating Ontario sport fish that is updated regularly. It’s also available in electronic format, or you can order copies to be delivered through the mail using an online form. Check with your government’s environmental site to find information pertaining to your own region before consuming any fish you catch.

The One That Got Away

As fate would have it, our cruise happened on the last day of the salmon derby. As the sun went down, one of our hooks snagged a big fish the biggest we had seen that day. Ernie Izzi looked at it and said it was probably a Chinook salmon and, incidentally, a contender for

the biggest fish of the derby. We had less than an hour before our cruise was to end. Izzi thought it would take longer than that to land it. We settled in for the battle between man and fish.

One guy in our group was doing whatever you’re supposed to do when you have a gigantic fish on your line while Izzi coached him, and the rest of us cheered him on and mentally claimed $48,000 in prizes, but it wasn’t to be. The fish extricated itself from the hook and escaped. It was over for this year, anyway.

We’re looking forward to doing it all again another year, and probably for many more years to come. The experience was exhilarating and

fun, and something that everyone should try at least once. Just be sure to prepare for it and choose a professional charter operator who adheres to all government regulations for your comfort and safety.

References

Images Courtesy of Bob Tobin Government of Canada Marine Transportation website (Accessed April 4, 2023)

Great Ontario Salmon Derby website (Accessed April 4, 2023)

Izzi Charters website (Accessed April 4, 2023). Ministry of Ontario Guide to Eating Sport Fish website (Accessed April 4, 2023).

Val Tobin writes speculative fiction and searches the world over for the perfect butter tart. Her home is in Newmarket, Ontario, where she enjoys writing, reading, and talking about writing and reading. Discover more about Val on Mom’s Favorite Reads website:

https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/val-tobin

Seasonal Crystal Grids

by Lisa Shambrook

May – Beltane on the 1st May is the Wheel of the Year fire festival for the coming of summer. It celebrates fertility, fire, and creation as crops begin to grow. The earth’s energy and fertility is at its strongest as nature bursts out on trees, in fields, and in our gardens. The word ‘Beltane’ comes from the Celtic ‘bright fire’ and symbolises the brightest parts of the year.

This crystal grid, Beltane Bluebells, is a grid for Healing and Harmony at a time when bluebells are carpeting our woodlands and forests with their subtle fragrance and beautiful colour. Centred with Clear Quartz for clarity and focus, surrounded by Herkimer Diamond, a powerful amplifier of strength and healing, bringing attunement and spiritual connection through light. Amethyst for inner harmony and healing, and Peridot to also offer healing, positivity, and compassion. Bluebells signify gratitude, humility, constancy, and everlasting love.

Crystal Grids made by Lisa Shambrook for mindfulness, meditation, and art. Prints of some grids are available at www.amaranthalchemy.etsy.com. You can find out more about the sensory author and artist, who will lift your spirit, steal your heart, and ignite your imagination at www.lisashambrook.com. She also loves dragons and squirrels.

Lisa Shambrook is an author, artist, and dreamer who loves dragons. Born and raised in vibrant Brighton, England, living by the ocean heavily influenced her lyrical and emotional writing. She now lives in Carmarthen, West Wales, another town rich in legend and lore. A sensory writer, Lisa delves into sensitive subject matters that will lift your spirit and steal your heart.

REFLECTIONS LECTIONS

Sudden Storms by Maressa Mortimer

Mark 4: 35-41

I love boats and just gliding along the water is so peaceful. I have never been on a sailing boat, but from all accounts, it sounds a lot more complex. It’s fine if the wind is blowing at the right setting and in the right direction, but once that changes, you’ll have to work hard!

Life is like that too. Everything is ticking over nicely, we’re walking in sunshine all the time, and suddenly, everything changes. What do we do? The disciples did their very best for a bit until the storm was too much for them. They turned to Jesus who was sleeping, and cried, “Lord, don’t you care about us?”

Of course, sailing a boat for a living is different. Would those sailors still enjoy the peace and beauty around them, or are they simply looking at the sky for the right weather and staring at the water to determine whether it’s time to chuck the nets overboard?

When Jesus and His disciples went out in the boat, it says a sudden storm came. Lakes are known for that, from what I have heard. A friend of mine nearly drowned in Italy. He told me the weather had been perfect for sailing, sunny and with a little breeze. Suddenly, the weather turned violent and he struggled to get back to shore with his boat in one piece.

Jesus stopped the storm and then chided them for their lack of faith in Him. Of course, He cares. He might not stop each storm, but He will bring us through each one, and He most certainly does care. Don’t be afraid of the storm and don’t be afraid to enjoy a beautiful May day either!

Maressa Mortimer is Dutch but lives in the beautiful Cotswolds, England with her husband and four (adopted) children. She is a homeschool mum and a pastor’s wife,. She loves writing Christian fiction, as it’s a great way to explore faith in daily life. Her books are available from her website, www.vicarioushome.com, Amazon or local bookshops.

FLASH FICTION by Allison Symes

Theme for May - Sailing

Introduction

I must admit this month’s theme was a challenge for me. My experiences of sailing are limited to trips on a local ferry service! But sailing can have a metaphorical meaning too and that is what I explore for this month’s flash challenge.

This is open to flash non-fiction too as you could write about the joys of sailing, interesting historical information about sailing, and books linked to sailing such as Swallows and Amazons and so on.

through something they loathe? It would have to be important.

Sailing also conjures up images of weather conditions. The perfect sailing day - a summer, peaceful sail. Then there is the opposite - the winter sailings with the risks of storms. How would your characters handle the latter? Would the weather conditions match their state of mind?

Think about the purpose of the sailing trip. Is its objective met by the end of your story? Is your character travelling alone or with someone special and do they like sailing more or less than your main character? Could be conflict there.

As usual, you have 300 words as your maximum and I look forward to seeing what you come up with for this.

For my story, I took a broad metaphorical approach. My story has some truth behind it too. I did own a lovely dog called Gracie. I always rescue dogs though funnily enough not from Battersea Cats and Dogs Home.

For flash fiction, bear in mind sailing can symbolise escapism, getting away from the every day, and also new starts and/or challenges, a new life elsewhere (as in sailing off into the sunset). So as a topic there are possibilities here! Flash and symbolism work so well together given inference is used so much.

What would your character want to escape from? Do they sail away literally or metaphorically? Are they successful in making their new start? Why do they want that?

If they are sailing, where are they heading? Why have they picked their destination? Or are they just focused on getting away from what they have left behind?

Then there are possibilities for characters who loathe sailing (sea sickness, maybe?) and who must have a trip this way. How do they handle this? What would make them have to go

There was a fabulous TV show in the UK called For the Love of Dogs hosted by the late Paul O’Grady, the patron saint of rescue animals, if ever there was one. I’ve never been sick on the Woolwich Ferry though (which is a short crossing across the Thames). Hope you enjoy it.

The only one who cared has gone. I knew it was coming. They would’ve stayed but it was their time.

Gracie was lovely. My first dog. There for me when everyone else wasn’t. She sailed awayright over Rainbow Bridge.

Yet here I am standing outside the gates of Battersea Cats and Dogs Home a week later. Perhaps Gracie in her way has led me here. Before you ask, I came by bus. In my emotional state right now, I’m not taking another chance on the Thames.

Maybe I should forget sailing. Maybe it is time to give another dog a new life. Maybe I can make them sail away from the sadness of their past.

There are some terrible stories on the telly about what rescue dogs have gone through. I like watching that one where most end up having a happy new life with new caring owners. Always cheers me up, that show. I know I could give another dog a chance.

I feel myself smile for the first time since Gracie left. This is the baton she’s left me. Give another dog a chance to shine.

Getting Away Or Not

Sailing away - nice idea but not got the money. Boats are expensive. I was once sick on the Woolwich ferry. Boy, did my fellow Londoners laugh. It’s not a long crossing!

I can see the attraction of sailing. The idea of getting away is appealing. I wouldn’t be sorry to leave. There is nothing to keep me here now.

Sail away with them on walks, trips on the bus, fun times, and maybe one day chance the Woolwich Ferry again. Yes, can do that. Wish me luck. I’m going to find my new dog. They’ll be here somewhere.

Allison Symes is published by Chapeltown Books, CafeLit, and Bridge House Publishing. She is author of the flash fiction collections- Tripping The Flash Fantastic and From Light to Dark and Back Again. Find her story videos, at https://www.youtube.com/ channel/UCPCiePD4p_vWp4bz2d80SJA/ Allison blogs for online magazine, Chandler’s Ford Today. Her weekly column can be found at http://chandlersfordtoday.co.uk/author/allison-symes/ She also blogs for Authors Electric and More Than Writers, the blog spot for the Association of Christian Writers.

All At Sea

by Jenny Sanders

This was beyond him. Tossed and tormented by wind and waves, could he survive this storm?

think clearly, time his turns and swing the mainsail around so he could tack back against the wind, and avoid the strong current he knew had thrown many a ship into a whirlpool of destruction.

Reflecting on his position, Robert lifted his eyes to scan the horizon. His grandmother always advised that. She had regaled her children and grandchildren with pithy sayings and metaphors which, she claimed, helped her navigate life. Avoiding becoming so caught up in immediate circumstances you failed to see the bigger picture was one of her favorite topics.

The clouds still scudded across the sky, but a hint of watery sunshine indicated better things to come. Old advice triggered a flicker of hope in Robert’s jaded heart.

Robert gripped the apparatus more tightly. He took several deep breaths in a bid to ground himself against the elements and stop his thoughts spinning out of control.

The week had been a tornado, throwing everything at him it could. Deadlines, resignations, financial cuts, changes to the plotted course, betrayals and mutiny, sleepless nights; it was a wonder he was even upright this Sunday morning, blinking in the daylight and scanning the water for other vessels.

Away to starboard, a small yacht appeared to be struggling, while from his port side a poorly captained dinghy veered dangerously close to his sleek prow.

A grim expletive sullied the air as Robert grappled to steer his boat to safer waters. He was not unaware of the rocks ahead. He needed to

He stooped to pick the remote-controlled schooner from the water; tucked it, still dripping, under his arm, and headed home with a new resolve .

Jenny Sanders is a writer, speaker, encourager and mentor. She loves writing, reading and walking in nature whenever she can. For the past several years she’s lived between the beautiful cities of Bath, UK and Cape Town, S Africa. Her exciting and humorous new children’s book The Magnificent Moustache and Other Stories is now available published by The Conrad Press.

Mermaid and Man

by Val Tobin

Sirena drifted closer to the sailboat. It shouldn’t take much to sink it and drown the human predator inside. Even though constructed to withstand rough waters, the small craft would capsize if it took on enough water.

The solitary occupant’s attention was fixed on the fishing line dangling into the water off the stern. A sea anchor, deployed from the bow, drifted below. With the anchor’s line cut, she could scuttle the boat by opening the seacock.

She swam to the parachute-shaped object attached with a sturdy line to a chain. The mermaid pulled a knife from the sheath at her waist and started hacking. Nylon billowed around her. Sirena’s frenzied slices snapped one line, then another. The parachute engulfed her. She struggled, but the more she fought, the more it trapped and suffocated her.

A firm hand grasped her, and she whirled to meet the boat captain’s gaze. His eyes held only kindness and compassion. He pointed upward and she got the message. He wanted to help.

Sirena allowed the captain to swim her to the surface. Their heads popped from the water. He sucked air, then said, “You okay?”

She nodded.

“I’m Jordan.”

She refused to yield the power of her name.

“You’re safe now. These your waters? Sorry for trespassing. I’ll leave.” He glanced in the anchor’s direction. He’d have to repair it. “I’m a marine biologist studying here. I’ve heard of mers but thought they were myths.” He smiled. “I was wrong.”

Sirena placed a hand on his cheek, regretting her attempt to scuttle his boat. Some humans were evil, but not this one.

“You may stay here.” She swam away before he could reply. From a distance, she watched him safely board his boat and haul in his anchor.

Val Tobin writes speculative fiction and searches the world over for the perfect butter tart. Her home is in Newmarket, Ontario, where she enjoys writing, reading, and talking about writing and reading. Discover more about Val on Mom’s Favorite Reads website:

https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/val-tobin

All At Sea

by Eileen Rolland

Anna stood outside the bank clutching her handbag to her chest. She looked at the building with its cold, grey walls and all the old feelings flooded back

In her mind she saw Mr Duncan’s office – the huge, imposing desk and him in his highbacked chair, looking down. She was weeping. It had taken some time to get all the finances sorted. She’d noticed a picture of a boat on the wall, a cruiser, out at sea. It seemed appropriate. She’d felt ‘all at sea’ herself, being tossed about by events she had no control over.

‘That was then, this is now.’ She took a deep breath and went inside. “I’d like to speak to the manager”.

The teller was cheery. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I would be grateful if he could spare a few minutes.”

Anna didn’t have to wait long till she was shown into the familiar office. He sat behind his imposing desk, his face stern, his hands clasped. “How can I help you?”

“I have a cheque to deposit.”

Mr Duncan pursed his lips. “Perhaps one of the tellers can be of assistance.” He went to stand up.

“Sit down, Mr Duncan.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Please. I would appreciate your advice.” Anna slid the cheque from the National Lottery across his desk.

It took a moment for him to realise what was happening. A smile crossed his face when he saw all those lovely zeros.

“Well, would you believe it?” He pressed a button on his phone. “Linda, could you bring in some investment brochures please, and a coffee for Mrs Sinclair.”

Anna looked at the picture of the boat and she knew it would be plain sailing from now on.

Eileen Rolland began learning Tai Chi and Qigong in 1997 and has taught classes in both disciplines since 2004. Now that she is retired, she uses her training and experience in her writing. Find out more about Eileen @: www.eileenrolland.com

SCOTLAND ROUND THE WORLD

The Scots in South Africa: Part One

by Lorraine Smith

The phrase ‘the Rainbow Nation’ endowed by Desmond Tutu on post apartheid South Africa no doubt was meant to encompass those varying shades of black, brown and white which make up the country. There are of course other subdivisions including nationality, language, history, and religious norms. Included are the Scots, whose contribution is highlighted here.

The modern visitor to Cape Town will see on the map an area known as Scotsche Kloof a key route between Table Mountain and the Lions Head which connects the city with the southern part of the Cape Peninsula. It is unclear how the name was acquired. It could have run over land owned by a Scotsman or it could commemorate the presence of the Scots Brigade as they garrisoned at the cape for a considerable period of the 18th century. At any rate it symbolises a Scot’s presence of long standing.

Scots did not wait for the first British capture of the Cape in 1795 to be involved. There were Scot’s at the Cape from the earliest days of the Dutch East India Company (VOC) settlement following the arrival of Jan van Riebeecks party in 1652. They had already become celebrated mercenaries selling their military services in many parts of Europe. The VOC had manpower problems and these were solved in part by the arrival of Scot’s soldiers in Dutch employ. Their presence is also reflected in the fact that one of the most notorious brothels of the Cape was known as the Scotsche Tempel.

However, their were civilians too, before 1660 one William Robertson of Dundee former surgeon of the ship ‘Fort William’ is known as Senior Surgeon at the Fort of Good Hope. Others came ashore as deserters such as Patrick Jock and Jacob Burn turned up in early records described as Sheepherds from Glasgow. Other deserters, Colin Lawson, Alexander Crawford, John Brown and John Beck from Dundee and

Jacob Bain of Glasgow turn up in a court case in 1659. They tried to steal a yacht named Erasmus then lying in Table Bay. This was no doubt an attempt to return home to Scotland. However, Surgeon Robertson got to hear of it and warned its Captain. The plotters were arrested and punished.

An early Burgher Sergius Swellengrebel had a wife called Anna Fothergill who may well have been a member of the Scots community in the Netherlands. The situation was reversed when George Gunn married Maria Krynauw. Again, this may well have been a union contracted in Holland. The combined effects of the migration of Scots from the Netherlands, the operation of the Scots Brigade and the desertion from ships sailing to India and the East ensured a steady, if relatively slight, feed of Scot’s into the Cape through the course of the eighteenth century.

The significance of the Scots Community in the Netherlands is well represented by Robert Jacob Gordon, born in 1743, probably of a family long settled there. He was the second son of Major General Gordon of the Scottish Regiment and a Dutch mother Johanna Maria Heydenrijk. He joined the regiment in 1758 after studying Natural Sciences.

He arrived in the Cape in 1773 as an officer of the regiment. He seems to have maintained a sense of his ethnic origins on his father’s side that gave him fellow feeling with two Scottish travellers and plant hunters, Francis Masson and William Paterson. On his first journey into the interior with Masson he saw and named the Orange River. In 1779 and 1785-86 he made journeys into the interior collecting plants and fossils, keeping detailed diaries and making maps which were filled with carefully observed detail. He also took some merino sheep from Spain to the Cape where they later became a significant part of the Cape economy

Gordonskop, Gordonsfontein and Gordon’s Bay were all named after him. This is a kind of symbolic possession through naming thus imprinting an individuals presence on the landscape.

Masson and Paterson were among the earliest travellers into the interior and along with others did the most to make the unique flora of the Cape familiar in Europe. Masson went further into the interior than any other Briton at the time and was the first to publish a personal travel narrative on the region in English.

Born in Aberdeen he was apprenticed as a garden boy and his botanical and horticultural abilities earned him a post as under-gardener at Kew under the Superintendent William Aiton. This was at a time when Joseph Banks and Aiton judged it was necessary to place plant hunting on a more systematic and professional basis. George III made money available and Masson was selected to go to the Cape under Royal Patronage.

He joined James Cook on his second voyage on the Resolution. He remained at the Cape for two and a half years, completing three journeys into the interior.

William Paterson of Kinettles in Angus came from a lowly position but gained a post at Chelsea physic Garden. In 1777 he was sent to the Cape under the patronage of the Countess of Strathmore. He spent almost three years at the Cape and travelled further into the interior than Masson.

There is some evidence that botanical travellers were acting as ‘spies’ or reconnaissance agents for European imperial ambitions in the last decades of the 18th and early 19th centuries. This is not something Masson and Paterson seemed aware of. However, they were followed by huge numbers of their countrymen after the first capture of the Cape in 1975. This was a Scottish exploit as the Secretary of State Henry Dundas was keen to take the Cape from the Dutch. He may well have used plant hunting botanical ‘spies’.

Lorraine is a keen student of history and writes about Dundee during WW1 and WW2. Her main interest is WW1 and comes from family research and family lore told to her when she was a child. Research has uncovered the interesting stories behind each family member’s path to war, and also the stories of those who stayed behind. These now form the basis of a novel using the stories of her grandparents.

WRITING TIPS WITH WENDY

by Wendy H. Jones

Exploring the Far Reaches of Your Creativity

Last month I talked about using the five senses when writing your books. I explored how this could give your work a more authentic feel, rooting it in reality and giving it a sense of being more rounded. This week I want to talk about pushing the boundaries of your creativity and how this can help you to become a better writer.

I believe the first step to develop your creativity more fully is to read more widely. This involves reading out of your genre, stepping out of your comfort zone genre wise, and reading more forms of writing such as poetry, short stories, flash fiction, children’s books etc. This will immerse you in new ways of writing and open you up to the possibilities of life outside your own genre. It will also give you a greater appreciation of language, sentence structure and plotting. However, the main reason for doing so is to explore what other genres you may like to write in.

Then, try writing in different genres. Now, I am not saying write an entire 100,000-word fantasy novel if you do not enjoy reading fantasy and it’s the last genre in which you would want to spend a year writing a novel. However, you may want to think about writing a fantasy short story or flash fiction or even poem. How about interviewing a fantasy writer for a blog post or for your newsletter?

If you feel moving into a whole new genre is taking it a step too far, how about writing in a sub-genre of the genre in which you write for example, crime thriller, police procedural, cozy mystery etc. The possibilities are endless.

I would encourage you to give it a go and see where this might take you. After all, when it comes to writing the only limit is your own imagination.

EditorinChief/ExecutiveEditor WendyH.Jones

WendyH.Jones,EditorinChief,/ExecutiveEditorisalsoourFeatureEditorandworkshardtoprovidecontentthatisinteresting,informativeandprofessional. She’stheawardwinning,internationalbest-sellingauthoroftheDIShonaMcKenzieMysteries,CassClaymoreInvestigatesMysteries,FergusandFloraMysteries,BertietheBuffalochildren’sbooksand theWritingMattersbooksforwriters.SheisalsoawritingandmarketingcoachandformerPresidentoftheScottishAssociationofWriters. YoucanlearnmoreaboutWendyonherwebsite: h ps://www.wendyhjones.com/

DeputyEditor&ArtDirector—Sheena Macleod

OurDeputyEditor coordinatestheproductionschedule. Sheadministerstheday-to-dayoperationsofthepublicationand organizeseacheditionofthemagazine.Shealsoworkshardtocreatenewcoverseachmonththatcapturestheessence ofeachpublication. SheenaMacleod Historicalfactandfictionwriter-lecturedattheUniversityofDundee,whereshe gainedherPhD.SheistheauthorofReignoftheMarionettes,TearsofStrathnaverandWomenofCourage AForgottenFigure FrancesConnelly.

GraphicDesigner EileenRolland

TheGraphicDesignerisresponsiblefordevelopingthelayoutofMFReMagazine. Eileenisresponsibleforthegraphics thatappearthroughoutthepublicationeachmonth. Sheworkshardtoensuretheimagescapturethespiritandmessage ourauthor'sconveyintheirarticles.Eileenwritesmainlycontemporarywomen’sfiction.Herworksincludethe Chrysalis TrilogyandIsleof Somewhere.

SubmissionsManager–PaulineTait

Paulinemanagesoursubmissionsandsetsrealisticschedules.eachShe is a prolific novelist and children’s author. Based in Scotland, she writes both suspenseful romance and children’s picture books for 3 to 7 years. With a background in Primary Literacy Support, Pauline is passionate in encouraging children in their own reading and writing.

StoryEditor—AllisonSymes

Allison Symes works diligently each month to generate flash fiction writing prompts that will stimulate creativity in our authorsandentertainourreaders.AsStoryEditor,shealsoensureseachentryisprofessionalandpolished.Allison Symes is an award winning, published flash fiction and short story writer. She also writes a weekly column on topics of interest for writers for online magazine, Chandler's Ford Today. Allison's fiction has appeared in anthologies (CafeLit and Bridge House Publishing) over many years. Allison judges competitions, runs workshops, and is always happy to talk/write about flash fiction writing. https:// allisonsymescollectedworks.com

Copy Editors—Wendy H. Jones & Sheena Macleod

OurCopyEditorsforMom’sworkhardtoensurecontentisappropriateandfreeofgrammaticalandspellingerrors.

MarketingDirector—MaressaMortimer

OurMarketingDirector,MaressaMortimer,overseesmarketingcampaignsandsocialmediaengagementforourmagazine. ShemanagesMom’sFacebook and Instagram pages. Maressa is the author of the Elabi Chronicles, Burrowed and Saphire Beach.

Our Content Writers arefreelanceauthorswhocontributearticles,shortstories,etc.totheeMagazineonaregularbasis. Theyworkhardtomakeourmagazineinterestingandprofessional.