Holiday Memories – keep scrolling!

Moonfish Memories

She sat proud and glistening in the bay

A wonderful sight to behold

41 feet of luxury

and only two months old!


Her name, of course, was Moonfish

Our home for the next five days

With all the latest gadgets

And a deck on which to laze


Two Lemons, two McGahons and Mrs Marchant

Led by Skipper Neil

Let loose on a brand new yacht

Could this be for real?


So they set sail from rainy Largs

the intrepid crew of six

feeling slightly underconfident;

“What happens if we get in a fix?”


But we had no need to worry

Our Skipper kept us right

Only one beer at lunchtime

But a belly-ful at night!


We soon got used to living

In such a confined space

And even `midnight pumping’

Didn’t cause a loss of face!


Half hitch, bowline, slipknot

We knew them off by heart

But when it came to reversing

That’s really quite an art!


Just like the Royal Yacht Britannia

We ate till more we could not bear

Every night we had our fill

(OOH! You dirty mare!)


Music we had plenty

`tho none to suit our Chris’s ear

Ken said “Is it disco?”

While sporting his woolly head gear.


We moored at sunny Rothesay

To enjoy their Victorian loo’s

Chris fed pigeons on his head

The rest enjoyed the views.


At night we got the cards out

`Piggy’ was the game

The McGahons were the winners

and the forfeit they did name.


The next morning, we made for the showers

Up to Rothesay town we did roam

Di and Liz resembling fresh flowers

Maggie looking like she should be in a home!


Tarbert was always tropical

So good we went there twice

The boys showed off their ball skills

The local women to entice.


A sunny day with calm waters

Saw us motor to lovely Loch Fyne

The restaurant loomed in the distance

And we knew we would have a good time.


But first we had to get there

Via the dinghy and Captain Ken

It rocked around precariously

Would we ever get back again?


Full of oysters, wine and laughter

It was time to return to the boat

This time in complete darkness

Would the dinghy stay afloat?


With one torch between all six of us

We went our separate ways

The women through the jungle

The men along the bay


The ladies’ hearts were beating

As they fought their way to the beach

Stepping on `dead bodies’ along the way

It seemed so out of reach.


But finally we were back on board

With Baileys coffees on the go

Ready to face another day

Of tacking, gybing, Lee-ho!


Thursday was wet and windy

We decided to stop at a pub

The Oystercatcher looked inviting

And our thoughts soon turned to grub.


After half an hour of trying

We eventually caught a buoy

We all piled in the dinghy

And soon it was `land ahoy’.


We didn’t get the warmest feeling

As we entered the Oystercatcher hall

To be greeted by a mangy cat

And a dog that was licking its balls!


Then we knew it could wait no more

The `Piggy’ forfeit had to be done

Lemons, Marchants with letters on their rears

The McGahons, they had none.


We proudly took our stances

As we lowered down our `breeks’

And MOONFISH was there for all to see

On an octet of splendid cheeks.


Final stop was Tarbert

And into the Victoria Bar

Little did we know that we would meet

A singer from afar…


He offered Diana his organ

He said he would entertain

With his impressive wig collection

`Lenny Lino’ was his name.


He certainly had us singing

Yes, we were tapping our toes

We left with smiling faces

And Ken with a blackened nose.


Back to Largs and a sad farewell

As we packed up all our junk

And travelled by car to the Monachyle Mhor

To get `very very drunk’.


Last stop was Edinburgh

And a night out on the razz

Maggie got drunk and went missing

Chris just wanted jazz.


The moral of this story is clear

If you’re holidaying afloat

The Ottershaw gang can’t cope with dry land

So keep them on the bloody boat!!

Ode to the Rock House, Borve estate, Harris, Outer Hebrides

Carved discreetly in a rock,

Is a place where you will find,

That as soon as your key turns in the lock,

You’ll re-discover peace of mind,

Open the door to this idyll,

And your mouth will fall open wide,

At this perfect palace upon a hill,

Adorned so exquisitely inside.


Gaze down upon the golden beach,

Or take a kayak around the isles,

Peacefulness is within reach,

Or an active life if that’s your style,


Pick up lobster from Stornaway,

It’s as cheap as chips down there,

Enjoy it while looking out over the bay,

Life without a care.


St Kilda, Scarp and Taransay,

Beaches without another soul,

Watching the otters come out to play,

Or make spotting a Golden Eagle your goal.


Galleries are around every bend,

Just watch the sheep on the road along the way,

A postcard from remote St Kilda send,

Or just relax and enjoy a lazy day.


If, like us, you totally fall in lust,

With the ceramics by Nikolai,

Then a visit to Mission House is a must,

So much to tempt you to buy,


Harris Tweed is everywhere,

But if you want the best,

Luskentyre Tweed is beyond compare,

Fashionistas would be impressed,

The lovely Donald will look after you,

With his softly lilting voice,

He’s supplied Chanel and Nike too,

And the colours – what a choice!


Take home a supply of Harris Gin,

in a bottle you will treasure,

Don’t forget to put your pink grapefruit in,

A true Hebridean pleasure.


With tropical weather we were blessed,

Temperatures higher than twenty four!

Although it made our Rock House nest,

More like a hot house – “open the door!”


A wonderful holiday we have had,

With so many times to remember,

A fond farewell to our Rock house pad,

We’re back to Laxdale in September!

An Epic Tale of Ladies Afloat

Five ladies went to sea, they did, on a swanky cruising boat

to celebrate Meg’s 60th with a party while afloat.

They started in Barcelona, in summer clothes all fresh and new.

They didn’t know that it was raining…No windows and no view!

Then it was all aboard me shipmates!  Prosecco soon in hand,

as the sun beat down to tan them and they waved goodbye to land.

The cabins, they were sumptuous with a balcony outside

and they gazed across the ocean and enjoyed the maritime ride.

But Meg was feeling nautical, and with a smile most beguiling,

she disrobed on the balcony and Irish eyes were smiling!

A Mimosa to start the day off, then Mojito or a Pimms

The waiter served Bellinis, as they stretched their sunkissed limbs.

First stop it was Naples with taxi drivers on the make

but they found Alessandro who fed them local cake.

Next stop it was Rome and a long, old schlep by train.

All that bloody travelling was really quite a drain.

But there’s nothing like a Kir Royale when you’re back on deck.

They’d had their weekly units but it’s a case of ‘what the heck!’

In the evenings, they donned their gladrags and quickly hit the floor.

Dancing and kareoke till their feets and throats were sore.

Gliding through moonlit seas, getting their Prosecco fix.

five lovely ladies.. and Little Gregory makes six!

Florence – how we loved you.  Just the Davis sisters three.

Ravioli and Vermentino, are just our cup of tea.

They travelled in style with Marco but needed eight people to pay,

What a stroke of luck they found themselves a Chinese takeaway!

Ooh la la La France! Film Festival time in Cannes.

Jen and Liz go Clooney hunting while the rest top up their tan.

Enfin, it is Marseille and they ride the Ferris wheel.

Was it the height or just Jane’s shrieking

that made them all feel ill?

They wandered the cobbled backstreets for a perfect spot in the shade,

It’s times that this they’ll remember as memories were made.

A final night on board and they all felt rather sad

that they were coming to the end of the great time that they’d had.

So Adios to Barcelona, Ciao Naples, Florence and Rome!

Au revoir to France…these girls are taking a hangover home!