We had TWO crews out along the Muddy Banks for a WivGigs Monday social row. And this included carrying a passenger in one boat, as a game of musical chairs took place on board as we made our way downstream towards Buoy 16 and beyond.
A little bird spotting took place by those that were bothered. Apologies, but a bird is a bloody bird. I’m here for the water, and hopefully a little peace and quiet.
That said, the flyover from a flock of geese was half decent. They might have been pigeons, but the personal touch as they made a flight path directly above us was a bit of a moment. I wasn’t alone in looking for geese / pigeon shit on my club clothing once they had buggered off to the other side of the Muddy Banks.
It was incredibly mild out there. The musical chairs meant that I found my way towards the front of the boat and on stroke. I refused to take off any layers. That boat can be full of crap with all the mud. My OCD mind would meltdown at the thought of river shit soiling my clothing.
Keep on moving, Jase. Keep on moving. Which meant that soon I was coxing. In a boat full of females, I held off with my OH SO FUCKING FUNNY cox joke. It was probably for the best.
Bateman’s Towner and Brightlingsea was soon within sight. Buoy 16 was reached.
“Anyone fancy the Rat?”
Oh go on then, Why not. Rat Island was entered. Here Be Rats, etc. We took the opportunity to stuff our faces with festive food.
The row back to the Sailing Club was a bit of a slog, tbh. I had a pressing work shift and wanted to get a move on. This was no time for bird spotting.
Oh.
I had to do a runner at the end on the Sailing Club. I took some water in on my wellies.
Arse.
