Friday,
August 8th saw me loading my car on a glorious, sunny morning to make my return
pilgrimage to Walton. As I don't enjoy driving very much, I was anxious to reach
the other end of this journey, where Lil awaited me, as soon as possible. Butterflies
with hobnailed boots were stomping on my stomach and I longed for the loan of
the starship Enterprise's handy transporter.As it transpired, the journey was remarkably straightforward and uneventful. Within four hours of leaving Stoke Mandeville at 10.15am, I was once more setting-up my faithful trannie in a hotel room in Wix. It was all I could do to restrain myself from dumping everything on the floor and heading straight for Walton pier. I showered, changed, drank tea and conducted myself in an adult, civilised manner. Then I rushed off to the pier!
When I arrived at the shop, I enquired of Caroline and Abbie about my chances of getting a space on the tender. Some of the DJs were also there, waiting to return to the ship. They immediately decided it was imperative that I accompanied them because I had uttered the magic words, "I have brought cakes". This phrase, I quickly discovered, would unlock more doors than "Open Sesame".
During the journey to the end of the pier on the little train, Paul Graham explained to me about the unforeseen problem that had reared its ugly head since my first visit, and which was causing everyone tremendous grief.
A safety inspection had forced the introduction of a regulation that only twelve persons were allowed to be aboard the Yeoman Rose at any one time. Because this low head count included the crew of Captain and First Mate, plus all the Big L personnel, life became extremely difficult. Nobody could have anticipated the instigation of such a restriction, or the headaches that would ensue from attempting to alleviate the resulting problems. To allow visitors on board, an equal number of people were required to get off (stand down). By now, the two dirtiest words in the English language as far as the Big L team was concerned had become 'stand' and 'down'. Anyone not actually broadcasting, engineering or conducting tours had to go. People who should have been aboard the Yeoman Rose were frequently finding themselves in No Man's Land, travelling back and forth to the pier on the Lady Gwen. The Yeoman Rose wasn't exactly in dangerous waters. She was anchored within spitting distance of the pier, and consequently the Lifeboat Station, in a depth of less than twenty feet of water. Had the ship sunk, nobody standing on her deck would have as much as got their feet wet, but safety rules must be obeyed.
Possibly the quote of the month on the subject came from Pete MacFarlane:
"If you can wait for ten minutes I don't mind standing down," he told Captain Pete, "But I have to read the news first!"