the best thing

So I've been listening to an album by Port Isaac's Fisherman's Friends fairly solidly for the last week -- I'm still not tired of it. I love sea shanties. I really love them.

I understand that they might not be everyone's cup of tea, but I think they're bloomin marvellous. Wikipedia defines a sea shanty as follows:

A shanty (also spelled "chantey," "chanty") is a type of work song that was once commonly sung to accompany labour on board large merchant sailing vessels

Basically, they were songs sung by men who spent months at a time on the sea in huge old ships -- crashing through the waves, hauling the anchor and climbing the rigging. Tempting as it is to romanticise the kind of life they might have led, in reality it must have been an exhilarating, gut-wrenching, back-breaking, rollicking, superstition-ridden, stinking and intensely communal way of life.

Yet despite all this, the songs they sang -- passed down over hundreds of years through oral tradition and memory -- speak so candidly of love, loneliness, brotherhood, insobriety, women, work, and hope. I love their simplicity and honesty, and there's something about a group of male voices (often with little or no instrumental accompaniment) that I find irresistible.

As well as all that, I have some very very fond memories of sea shanty weekends in Whitby with my Granny. These weekends were held annually (I'm not sure if they happen still -- I hope they do) and drew dozens of sea shanty groups into the various pubs and taverns of the town for many many performances over the weekend -- some less formal than others.

My Granny and I went together for several years (starting, I think, when I was about 6) and they were very formative experiences for me. I remember the delicious sense of naughtiness as she would take me into a pub full of beer, smoke and old grey-bearded sea dogs to listen to the sea shanties. I'd sit there, utterly enthralled at the bare brazen singing, raw and somehow deeply important.

Whitby, North Yorkshire

The audience sat around me on rickety wooden stools and threadbare armchairs would be roused and join in the exuberant music. Surrounded by the tapping of feet, banging of tables and clapping of hands, I was desperate to learn the words so that I could join in. It's amazing how quickly you can pick them up. Other songs would be more melancholy -- singing of longing after months on the sea -- and the singing would become a general hum hanging over the room, acapella and tipping over some invisible boundary into the profoundly spiritual. I would hold my breath as I saw grown men cry and the atmosphere became electric.

After nights of shanties fit to burst, my Granny and I would wind our way in the dark back to the cottage we were staying in, stopping off at a fish and chip shop for a cone of chips on the way back. Even now, listening to shanties brings a distinct taste of hot vinegary chips to my tongue.

recap

Oh hello blog, you lovely thing. It's been a while.

Well, now that I'm back home after almost 3 weeks without internet I thought I'd tell you just what I've been doing in the mean time. It has been a good 3 weeks!

Ok, first week I was on a barge on the Oxfordshire canal, which was bea-utiful. We became expert storm-dodgers and, if I do say so myself, I was soon steering the boat like a pro, even in the pouring rain:

An amusing incident on the barge: I was steering fairly early in the morning and looking like a real bargee, when I looked to my feet and saw the hatch down to the engine, and noticed a small brass sign next to it explaining what it was. Now, for my somewhat immature mind, this sign turned out to be more than I could bear to keep to myself. I called to my brother at the front of the barge: "Oi Tom, there's a funny sign on the barge!" He asked me what it said, and I bellowed out over the noise of the engine: "It says FUEL COCK BELOW!" Then fell about in helpless hysterics. It wasn't until cruel coincidence caused me to turn round that I saw the old bloke on the tow path that was out walking his dog, looking at me in surprised amusement and pity as I rolled about the deck cackling like a schoolgirl. I was so embarrassed that, naturally, I went and hid in the toilet for the next half hour.

So, the week after the barge we went to stay in a cottage in Dorset (in Lulworth Cove, if you're interested). The weather was much better that week, and we went on plenty of day trips to explore everything around. One of the highlights of the week was when we went sea kayaking - it was incredible! I would so recommend it if you haven't done it before. Tom and I shared a kayak, and we were crashing through waves and dodging in and out of rocks and caves - whistling the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack, naturally.

Another highlight was our trip to Lulworth Castle for the annual jousting festival - where I learned that not only do I need a boyfriend, but he must be of the armour-wearing "I-shall-win-this-tournament-for-your-honour" type.

Needless to say, the baddie knight ("Lord Odious", as it happened) was my favourite, and - I am ashamed to say - without any other appropriate favour to give him (women used to give knights handkerchiefs and things to show their favour during the jousts) I was seriously considering removing my bra to give him in a moment of madness, but it seems a young girl beat me to the underwear offering:

She was on her dad's shoulders next to us and told him she wanted to give him her spare pair of knickers. On ascertaining that it was in fact the baddie that she wanted to favour, he said amusingly: "I'm not sure if I approve of this!" 

The final highlight, was the Anniversary of the Battle of Britain Air Show in Duxford. Man, I have never seen anything like it. So many World War II planes - they had sixteen Spitfires flying together! And I'm no fighter plane expert but I'm told that's rather a big deal. Of course, the Red Arrows are always a big hit with me.

So, this brings us on to this week, where I have been at Forum 2010, organised by UCCF (the national organisation of Christian Unions in universities). It was one of the most incredible weeks ever, honestly. The teaching was fantastic (click here to listen to any of them - Graham Daniels' talk was particularly brilliant) and we all learned to much and got really fired up for going back to uni and organising our CU freshers events. I nearly lost my voice from all the singing we did! Picture it: pitch black outside - no clouds but loads of stars, a huge marquee and a thousand students belting it out so that you can hardly hear your own voice. So good. So so good!

So, here I am - complete with a host of new books from Forum, a miniature model of a Red Arrow plane, and flip flop tan lines. It's been a mint few weeks!

little brother

Came to visit this weekend. Completely marvellous couple of days, cannee wait til Christmas now.