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| Happier times |
This is a going to be a rant, so feel free to stop reading now!
My husband, as you'll know if you've read much of this blog, is a professional sailor with a lifetime of experience, an artist and a fine woodcarver. He still does the occasional bit of woodcarving: small pieces, because a nasty combination of psoriatic and osteo arthritis means that his mobility is extremely challenged and in spite of serious medication he is in pain a lot of the time.
He began years ago by skippering a trawler, but then moved on to the charter yacht world. Some of his experiences inspired my writing - including a very successful play about the state of the fishing industry, called The Price of a Fish Supper. Among other things, he did the Fastnet Race - the one after the disastrous year when people drowned, after which good sailing experience was compulsory. He did the Scottish Islands Peaks race, several times over, aboard a friend's yacht. He skippered a 50 foot charter catamaran, Simba, in the Canaries where I joined him for one extremely happy winter. We went back the following year with our new baby son, while Alan was involved on and off with working on another friend's charter yacht.
After that, he taught at the Inverclyde National Water Sports Centre in Largs, and did more charter skippering, but eventually came ashore when he felt he was missing our little son too much. This was when he turned to his other skill of woodcarving, making and restoring traditional rocking horses as well as undertaking other commissions. The picture at the top of this post is of a delivery (by sea) of a large ape to Kelburn Country Park in Largs, where you can still see some of his carvings. Have a look at his website for more images. These days, he paints extraordinary pictures, often with sea themes.
All those years, he sailed whenever he could. But these days, most (but not all!) of the friends he sailed with refuse to take him out, even for a long weekend on Arran.
For the avoidance of doubt, he can still manage to get on board a yacht if it is moored at a pontoon (of which there are many, here in the West of Scotland.) And once in the cockpit, he has lost none of his sailing, helming and navigation skills, He can haul on ropes, from a sitting position, because he still has upper body strength. He can also manage to negotiate the interior of a yacht because it's infinitely smaller than a house, with lots of handholds and seats. He doesn't have to walk more than a few feet or stand for any length of time. He has a lifetime of knowledge. What he can't do is walk long distances or scramble about a deck, but then most sailing trips have somebody younger and fitter to do that.
We live in a lovely, supportive rural community, but sadly, it's some distance from the sea. He misses sailing and he misses the sea acutely. But he is 'not wanted on voyage'. Eventually, tired of all the evasion, he asked outright. The answer was a flat 'no'. They obviously see him as a liability. Earlier this year, we contacted a disabled sailing group, but that too has been lukewarm in its response. I suspect the problem there is that he is overqualified. They are happy to provide day trips for beginners. Not so happy with elderly disabled professionals.
But then, anyone with a disability, or even anyone who has been in a wheelchair for a short time will know that feeling of being patronised, excluded and treated as being entirely without agency. It's not nice, is it?
Since I wrote this, close friends who live many miles away, the ones who we know are happy to take Alan sailing, have contacted him to invite him to sail with them in the next few weeks. They're lovely, confident people who who enjoy his company and they are heading our way!
