Between the storms of Autumn and the gathering clouds of fuel shortage we shivered in the Yacht marina with its trillions of pounds of boats lying crewless waiting for continental drift to take the UK to warmer climes. We however were there demonstrating the creed of true sports men and women.
Hash seniors welcomed two newcomers Steve and Sarah Pearson, who berth their yacht in the Marina and will, we hope, be with us for a few months.
Jim, for some reason, felt he could explain to a largely English audience what the Guy Fawkes business was all about and its significance to the day’s Hash. We were told to expect bombs at falsies and these turned out to be Ferraro Roche chox – very nice.
And so we were off.
Ten minutes later we were still at the start no one spotting a double trial around the north side of the marina towards Dell Quay. We could not go all that way, so we eventually found a sneaky little detour across farmland into Salterns Copse and then Bruce found the trail along the foreshore and back over falsie by the marina lock.
Where was on-president. Lost already!
Next we took in Westlands with all those tacky big houses and then out towards the open path to Itchenor where there was a check. All paths seemed to false until Steve found the way two roads back.
Half way round and who should appear none other than Paul who these days either does not turn up or arrives too late to start legally. This behaviour just won’t do – what if we all did that!
The next little tease was a loop around a pleasant little private park which allowed public access – can’ t remember the name. After the lap was complete the false trail up the road to the A286 was open; north and then back through a path toward the marina.
By this time numbers had dwindled; Pru had toothache and others seemed to have tired legs.
We convened at the Spinnaker, a yotties watering hole, where we discussed the relative merits of different cultural groupings.
Roger, who seemed to have found us, suggested the hashit be awarded to Dave B for degraveling the car park but it passed to Louise for wearing too little and pretending to be perfect when folk know she is not.
Our sincere thanks go to Jim and Jan for laying a nice flat course with their usual aplomb (plus the bombs).