Nightswimming

I was so glad when they finally got their arses in gear and decided to sail out of Fethiye Korfezi – I mean it’s a very nice place, but just a little on the touristy-Sunsailor-ooh-let’savapicnic side for me. I didn’t join this crew to lie around contemplating my navel. I want to go places, see things, experience life, eat lots of fish. The fish all taste the same but it’s the challenge of eating them round the world that so excites.


I keep bumping into this chap. His name is Tai and he lives on a German sailing boat called 'Sara-Ena'. I was really scared of him at first but when they put his sun hat on I couldn't help but laugh. He's a very good swimmer, just like me.

I keep bumping into this chap. His name is Tai and he lives on a German sailing boat called 'Sara-Ena'. I was really scared of him at first but when they put his sun hat on I couldn't help but laugh. He's a very good swimmer, just like me.


The further east we travel the happier I am. It’s so much more “Turkish”, if you know what I mean, much less “Cowes à la Turk”. I have to agree with them, though, it is very hot here. All of us have become quite lethargic and have found it more and more difficult to get motivated. One night when we were anchored just outside Kas (pronounced “cash”) I decided to liven us all up a bit. It was a stifling still night and my parents were lounging in the cockpit watching a film. They both looked like they were falling asleep so I suggested we go for a midnight dip. As so often is the case my idea was ignored, so I walked up to the bow and dived off (to be honest it was a bit of a belly flop as I made a helluva noise when I hit the water). While I was circling the boat for the second time with my very efficient front-pussy-crawl my Dad jumped in and joined me. Mum was shouting and following round the deck with a torch to help me see where I was going (like I needed it, huh).. Unfortunately Dad didn’t want to stay in for very long so he scooped me up and plonked me on the swimming platform. I pretended to be cross, but secretly I was quite glad to have created such a reaction. The only thing I don’t really understand is why my Mum, seeing that I am already soaking wet, insists on washing me every time I go for a swim. I mean, hello, I’m already wet, doh! Once the fuss was over I licked myself clean. My coat never looked better.

 

This jaunt to Cyprus sounds like a bit of a lark. I expect they’ll lock me up and harness me on the way over, but at least I know I’ll be treated like a princess when we get there. I wonder if I’ll be allowed to set foot on Cypriot soil? Whatever happens I’d better get my gnashers round some Cypriot fish when I’m there or I’ll have something to say about it.

 

Er, Mum, I think I've got lock-jaw

Er, Mum, I think I've got lock-jaw

 

By the way, thanks to Big Boy Buster and Sweet L’il Honeybun for their emails. It’s very interesting for me to hear what cats in England get up to. I’m glad that you enjoy my exciting adventures. To paraphrase a famous filmstar “If I bring a little joy into your humdrum lives, it makes me feel as though my hard work ain’t been in vain for nothin’. Bless you all.” Gold star to anyone who recognizes the quote without having to Google it!

 

To read my fan mail from Honeybun and also Antonella, who rescued me in Bodrum, see below.





2 Comments on “Nightswimming”

  1. Hello Millie!

    Glad to hear you’re safe back on Esper enjoying Mom and Dad’s attentions…. I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you the 5 star treatment you clearly deserve, but I’m sure you undestand: you are so smart ! (and pretty of course). Had a great time reading your entries, you are even wittier that your Daddy and what a nice style. Keep on writing dear. And keep those paparazzis at bay, what a nuisance … Big hug and scratch on your lovely belly,

  2. Hello Millie!

    I am dear little Honey Bun.

    Thank you very much for sending me the wonderful account and photographs of you nautical life. Although I am very impressed I don’t think such a way of lfe would be ideal for me as I am now nearly sixteen and prefer a gentle way of life these days.

    Mind you, I am a fish aholic and would be very tempted to have a sail with you because those fresh fish look MUCH tastier than the portion of cod or coley my dear Michael gets from Tesco’s and cooks for me every morning. On the other hand, I don’t like getting wet. I flee when Michael is watering the garden, one splash on my lovely coat and I am off like as rocket.

    I am quite refined and genteel so this big house and very large garden is “right up my street” I have many chairs on which to snooze but usually prefer whichever one Michael is using. The large garden means that I never have to go beyond the front gate when I need to go to the toilet and is so big that Michael has never come across any of my dollops because I bury them so skillfully. How do you deal with yours on the boat? Have they provided you with some earth or a litter? It must be very difficult to bury yours and perhaps it smells of fish? Do you eat anything else? A balanced diet is essential to keep in good condition.

    You can see from the attached photos that, although I am quite elderly now, I still look lovely. My coat is like silk. Although my eyesight is deterioating I can still catch mice. I have caught half a dozen during the last five days. The last one I caught at about one in the morning and took it up to Michael while he was in bed. Unfortunately it ran under the bed in the darkness and, from the smell coming from under the bed today, must have died. Michael has moved the bed but can’t yet find it desapoite the smell. Ugh!

    My hearing is still very good indeed though, unlike poor Buster’s ( you were very unkind about him- we all get old ) I KNOW that my dear Michael will always cherish me.because I am his soul mate. I often wonder which of us will depart this world first. After all he will be 70 in November and I am getting on as well.

    You might be very agile and nautical and seen so much more of the world already compared with me but I do have a skill that you don’t, namely dictating to my dear Michael so he can send you this message. You can see how much he loves me because my photo is the firdt thing he sees when he turns on his computer.

    Unlike you, I hate travelling! Sometimes my Michael takes me to his lady in Pagham which is 262 miles away. I hide when I see him start to pack but he has rumbled me now so packs when I am asleep. He forced me to stay in Pagham for over two months earlier this year. His lady looks after me just as well. perhaps even better, but I am always very glad to get back to my lovely Gwendra and the very large garden.

    Well Millie, it’s time for yet another snooze so I will close this first message to you. I look forward to getting another one before too long. I will reply but can’t hope to match the excitement and interest that you are experiencing. Still,my dear Michael and I are both rather sedate and prefer the gentler life. You might feel the same when you are much older. Meanwhile, carry on enjoying all those wonderful fish and keep safe.

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