All things being equal

The Lobster's were feasted upon, the crabs devoured, half cockled visitors sampled wines and ales and shuddered over oysters, ladies with areas of outstanding natural beauty stood promoting Devons Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty alongside 150 freshly hatched, cute as can be, cuddly, baby lobsters waiting to be adopted for a pound and released to the dark and murky depths off Clovelly.

Stalls of prints and paintings, pebbles and cards lined the Quay while entertainers dressed as fishmongers armed with crustaceans that talk and eels that squirt wandered up and down appeasing all the men and pleasing all the women. And an endless drone of off Quayed Shantymen filled the air with drunken sailored notes.

So slowly we slip anchor into the equinoxial month of September where grey skies equal those of blue, days ashore match those at sea, lobsters find more interesting things to do and boat trips are the exception not the rule. Occasional days of basking sun pour out the boating fools upon an unsuspecting bay, where they use all their navigating skills to chart a course to the Red Lion so they can refuel for the journey home.

Another Summer begs to leave, an Autumn piloted in to take its place. Soon the yachts we've come to love will be hibernating, more yacht clubbing than yachting, more embellished voyages than actual, more plans, more dreams, more Rum. And what's next for us, Lobster pots to bring home, boats washed and polished for the herring, more schemes, more dreams, more Rum.