i am writing a book. would u please review and be my critics

[tcm]

I fully agree with Claysie and I too am very positive. The faux-hopeless grammar is obviously intended to catch the eye of the experienced reader and draw him or her along in the sure hope of finding more glaring howlers - and the search isn't spoiled by any tiresome plotline or characterisation that so typifies the usual narrative. I am fondly hoping we night all be invited to the Book Launch, presumably at the local with lots of Carling?

[bosun higgs]

I think perhaps drug taking was part of the Huggs normal behaviour...
as for acceptable - who are we to judge?

The rest of his fellow citizens. The same people who judge racism unacceptable, or paedophilia or drunkenness - or indeed a lot of other things. And don't tell me that you dont judge other people.

The problem here is that writing a book in this vein gives an air of normality or acceptability to drug taking, and in that sense risks encouraging others to adopt a destructive life style. And yes, there really are people out there who are so susceptible as to be influenced in this way.

[Nick]

I think perhaps drug taking was part of the Huggs normal behaviour...
as for acceptable - who are we to judge?

The rest of his fellow citizens. The same people who judge racism unacceptable, or paedophilia or drunkenness - or indeed a lot of other things. And don't tell me that you dont judge other people.

The problem here is that writing a book in this vein gives an air of normality or acceptability to drug taking, and in that sense risks encouraging others to adopt a destructive life style. And yes, there really are people out there who are so susceptible as to be influenced in this way.

There have been some great books written where drugtaking is a major focus. The sort of people who are going to take up drugs because they have read about people doing it in a novel are too stupid to read it in the first place.

Come to think about it, there have been some major works written where the central theme is racism, or drunkenness, or paedophilia . . . are you a book burner then Bosun?

[Fingal]

The problem here is that writing a book in this vein gives an air of normality or acceptability to drug taking, and in that sense risks encouraging others to adopt a destructive life style. And yes, there really are people out there who are so susceptible as to be influenced in this way.

I have to say I agree with Nick.

I've been wanting to use that line on an internet forum all summer.

Seriously, I think you are takeng a very dangerous line in relation to freedom of expression. Would we have Hunter S. Thompson's incomparable 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas', Coleridge's 'Kubla Khan', or Aldous Huxley's 'The Doors of Perception' if writers were unable to publish work giving any kind of credibility to drug use? Admittedly Huggy's work is more Irvine Welsh than any of the above, and he has a long way to go in terms of literary style and technique, that doesn't make it any less worth while or deserving of an audience. This is not great writing by any stretch of the imagination but it potentially offers a powerful insight into a particular strand of modern life. That's quite apart from the optimistic aspect, the story of someone who has clearly had an interesting personal journey.

Would it be more acceptable, perchance, if this was the story of an articulate graduate, a former bond trader and heavy user of Bolivian Marching Powder who cleaned up his act and found a new way of being through participating in ocean racing?

[bosun higgs]

That's a different issue Border Maid - just how far does a society allow freedom of expression? In the UK, we already do limit it in many ways, and the limits we put on it reflect the mores of society , or at least the mores of that part of society with power and influence. And of course there are legal issues of libel and slander. So the issue cannot be about the principle of censorship so much as where we place the limits.

As I've watched my children grow up and go through University, I've been fascinated to see how much their opinions have been formed by received "group wisdom" for want of a better way of putting it. I don't want to give you the impression that they are two witless individuals incapable of making up their own minds because they most certainly are not. But they do react to group behaviour, to the standards set by others.

And that of course is the risk in publishing books which glamourise or make "normal" a very self destructive behaviour such as drug taking. If it is regarded as thew norm then it is easy to slip into it. Just as very well educated youngsters think that getting legless at the weekend is a normal behaviour. Just as promiscuous sex is normal.

Am I a book burner - no I'm not, though I wouldn't attach anything like as much importance to book burning as some people do. But I do take the view that both authors and publishers have a duty to society not to promulgate socially destructive behaviour patterns.

Now that really does sound pompous but there has to be limits.

[tcm]

I'm not a book burner, but more relevant here is the fact that i have flushed a very great deal of toilet paper down the bog.

[Fingal]

(Snip)
As I've watched my children grow up and go through University, I've been fascinated to see how much their opinions have been formed by received "group wisdom" for want of a better way of putting it. I don't want to give you the impression that they are two witless individuals incapable of making up their own minds because they most certainly are not. But they do react to group behaviour, to the standards set by others.

And that of course is the risk in publishing books which glamourise or make "normal" a very self destructive behaviour such as drug taking. If it is regarded as thew norm then it is easy to slip into it. Just as very well educated youngsters think that getting legless at the weekend is a normal behaviour. Just as promiscuous sex is normal.

Am I a book burner - no I'm not, though I wouldn't attach anything like as much importance to book burning as some people do. But I do take the view that both authors and publishers have a duty to society not to promulgate socially destructive behaviour patterns.

Now that really does sound pompous but there has to be limits.

I think I see. Huggy's putative book is not one you would want 'your wife or your servants' to read.

[huggy]

hi guys thanks again for taking the time to review my book. i know it seems that i am condoning drugs but i am not. where i am from drugs are everywhere and believe it or not i didnt want anything to do with the hard stuff and it was one of the reasons for my journey. i am just telling it like it was. it is a story about me and my unorthodox introduction to a life on the sea. i am not sying drugs are good, but i did use them and this is what happened. i will post what i have writen upto now and i think you will understand. thanks. huggy.

by the time we were finaly able to get back on the boat and then wait for it to float again it was pitch black and we were pissed and stoned. We did'nt fancy staying on this beach overnight because the waves could pickup and it could be a bit dangerous. So we decided that we would be safer back at molfrie. Back on with the motor and away we went, the trouble was we couldnt see Molfrie because a rocky headland sticks out into the sea. We realy did'nt want to hit the rocks but it was so dark we could'nt see them so we just headed straight out to sea, shitting ourselves. After a while Molfrie started coming into view and we were able to see the outline of the rocks against the glow from the streetlights. We altered course and headed back to the moorings. As we approached I told sean to stand on the front of the boat and keep a lookout for mooring bouys and other boats as it was very hard to see anything. I slowed the boat down and headed in. All of a sudden this big yacht appeared just infont of us. I pushed the tiller hard over to the left and just missed it. I shouted "I told you to keep a lookout for other boats." Sean said, " its ok I saw it" I said. "I fornicating did'nt. You could have told me." "Sorry." He said. Brilliant!
We found a bouy, tied up the boat and settled down for a bit of fishing and a few spliffs. To be honest, we might of got a bite but we never noticed. We just chilled out, smoking and playing with the vhf radio. We couldnt find any music or anything for that matter, that is untill we stumbled across the coastgaurd giving a weather report for the following day. It was'nt good. They were giving a gale warning for our area coming from the west. Exactly the way we were heading. You would never believe it but i was'nt prepared for that. Although, I have had no practical sailing at this point I had read a few books and magazines, and I knew that the boat has to be setup differently for handling strong winds. Its what is called reefing. Basically you have to change the front sail for a smaller one and reduce the size of the mainsail. on this boat it has what is called slab reefing which has three different adjustments. it is adjusted by lowering the sail a bit and the tieing down the back of the sail. It was dark i was stoned and it was way to complicated to get my head around that night, I would have to learn how to do it in the morning.
We woke upto howling winds and it was pissing down, the great British summertime. After a quick bite to eat and a brew it was time to go. I realy did'nt want to do this but we

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really did'nt have much of a choice as we both had work the next day. I put on my council waterproofs and went to play with the sail. i did'nt want to do it at sea incase i got it wrong, so i got it ready while we were moored. I do'nt mind telling you i was a litle bit worried about sailing back with the weather like it was, but the sea was'nt that bumpy where we were, so it was off with the mooring bouy and away we went. we motored out into the bay, put up the reefed sails and started to head back the eight miles to Amlwyc.
At first it was'nt too bad, this was due to the fact we were behind Dildo Island and this was giving us some shelter from the waves. This was good because having never sailed against the wind it was good to experiance what it felt like. Those of you that have never sailed on a yacht
might not realise that as well as bobbing up and down on the waves, when sailing into the wind they also lean over to one side, this is called "heeling" and if you have never experianced it before it is quite worrying to say the least.
When i say sailing into the wind, you dont actually sail directly into the wind but at an angle to it, about forty five degrees. As you can't sail directly into the wind, you have to sail so far in one direction (called a tack) then turn through about ninty degrees. ( The turn is called tacking) And then continue on that tack. You continue doing this until you reach you desired destination, basically doing a load of zig zags. I'm not a yaching instructor and lets face it, would you really want to be taught by someone like me? As you may have gathered, this is not a sailing manual. infact if you do decide to copy many of the things I have done, you would either end up in prison, rehab or dead. So,just for the land lubbers amongst you, from time to time throughout this book I will try to explain how things work and some of the stupid names for all things nautical. For example, port and starboard. Whats wrong wth left and right? I still to this day have a P and an S painted on each side of my boat.
On passing Dildo Island the sea got noticably rougher and the wind was blowing a hoolie as us nautical folk like to say. The boat was heeled right over with the side of the deck in the water it really felt like we were flying along and to be honest i was shitting myself. Our kid on the other hand really did'nt look too botherd, infact he was in and out the boat making coffee every half an hour. He was loving it. I do'nt know if he is any braver then myself, i just do'nt think he realised just how dangerous this was. The wind must have been blowing 30 to 40 mph the waves were 3 to 4 meters and in a little boat like this it felt like we were in the perfect storm. Worse was to come, after about three or four hours of this we were coming about level with the headland with the lighthouse on the top of it. For some reason the waves got even bigger and by now the boat was flying out of the top of one wave and crashing into the next not only were waves pouring over the front of the boat but the front of the boat was actually ploughing straight through them. I was petrified. the only consolation I could think of was that maybe somebody in the lighthouse would see us and call the coastgaurd. ( I later learned that all of Britains lighthouses are unmanned) I was pissed wet through, cold and scared shitless, but i was trying not to show it because I did'nt want to worry our kid. Not bloody likely, regular as clockwork every half an hour, up he would come with a hot cup of coffee and one time a bacon and egg butty. The most amazing thing was the cups were filled to the brim and he never spilled a drop.
I dont know how long we were in these extra rough seas but it felt like forever, but as

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quick as they came they died away again. We continued to sail on the same tack as we had started on, but not having done much tacking i decided to do it with just one turn. The trouble was, we were now about six miles out to sea, so just to be on the safe side i decided to go well past amlych before tacking. This did'nt help because, not having taken into account of the strengh of the tide. ( Suprise, suprise.) eight hours after setting off, by the time we got close to the shore, guess where we were. fornicating Molfrie!
I was cold, tired and I really did'nt want to go through all that again, but the wind had died a little, the tide had started to turn and we saw a motor boat coming the opposite direction but he was keeping well inshore. So i decided to take down the front sail and keeping well inshore i put on the engine and went straight into the wind, using the mainsail mainly for stability. This worked a treat. It was still rough, especially near the lighthouse but nowhere near like it was and after about three hours we motored into Amlwyc harbour, cold and wet, but alive. We just cleared the outer wall and we run out of petrol. After all that we had just been through, this did'nt fase me I just pulled up a couple of boards off the cabin floor and we rowed the last fifty meters to the safety of the harbour wall.
I returned to work the day after and was just putting the finishing touches to a set of gates when the phone rang. It was our kid. He said, " u'll never guess what. I got into work this morning and my mate tells me he went to Anglsey for the weekend and saw two dick heads crash there boat into a beach. He asked one of them if he needed help but he declined, as he reconed he did it on purpose." It's a small world.



CHAPTER 2




That was my first sailing experiance. It was'nt exactly my first experiance at sea. That came when I joined the Royal Navy back in 1988, I was 18 years old. I joined as a Marine Engineering Machanic. I know you must think that this put me in good stead for a life on the ocean waves, but not really. I was what is known as a stoker. In the old days my job was to shovel coal into the ships boilers. The navy has come on a bit since then and although my first ship, H.M.S. Jupiter was actually a steam ship, it was fired with diesel boilers and steam turbines. you wont find many of them on yachts, and the only knot we learned, was the stokers dhoby hitch, which was used in the boiler room to tie our laundry bucket down. Unfortunatly I joined this ship in the late eighties, just around the time people were meeting late at night on the motorway services, to go to illegal warehouse parties in the hills around blackburn. It was the time of Acid House.
Then, as now, drugs and the armed forces do not make good bed fellows. I was doomed from the start. All my mates were going these raves and I just could'nt resist. Every weekend I was'nt on duty, which was three out of four, I was back up the M6 for a weekend of madness. Dropping acid, necking E's and bombing speed. If it was'nt an Illegal warehouse rave it was normally my local club called Legends, to this day the best night out in the world. Then after it finished it would be off to one of my mates flats for bong and a load more drugs. I would'nt get any sleep all weekend and then sunday night I had to drive back down to Portsmouth. As you can imagine I was in a bit of a mess for the drive back. One night I stopped at Knutford services and rolled a couple of joints for the drive back. It had been snowing and the embankments were covered in snow. I sparked up a joint and set off down the motorway. I instantly started tripping. It was like i was driving down a big white tunnel. The next thing I knew I had to slow down because I came up behind a truck with flasing lights and a sign that said speeding. excrement! I thought, its the pigs. It started hale stoning and they had slowed right down, to about 20mph. I was behind them in the hale for about 20 minuets but they didnt pull me. I thought they knew I was wrecked and they were deliberatly doing my head in. Finaly I thought, flip it, and put my foot down to overtake them. As I past, trying not to look at them, I could'nt help but notice the sign on the back. It did'nt say speeding at all. It said spreading. for twenty minuits I'd been stuck behind a fornicating gritter. And for some strange reason as I passed them, it magically stopped hale stoning.
All this fun couldnt last forever, after all, I was in the Royal Navy. It was 1990 and Saddam Hussain decided he was going to invade Kuwait. It was decided that my ship, H.M.S. Jupiter was one of the ships that was going to sort this little scallywag out. I was really pissed off because I was well into the raves and it would be no fun out there with no decent tunes and a few class A's. The solution to this problem came from my mate

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Bobby. He used to send me tapes with chunks of weed and trips inside. Amasing! The only problem was, at this time as far as I knew I was the only person on the ship that took drugs. So, I had to be really carefull with them. I used to go to back of the ship late at night and have a shady spliff, but the acid was a big no no. Can you imagine tripping on a boat with 250 Officers and Ratings? well I was about to find out. The ship gets allocated a certain number of missiles and has Exocet and Sea Wolf. If it does'nt fire them off, (normally at targets towed behind a plane) it recieves less the year after. So if there not fired they throw them over the side. So in 1989 these cost about £80.000 each. it's a bit of a waist really. I'm glad I do'nt pay tax anymore. Anyway the next day we were due to fire a Sea Wolf missile at ten o.clock. and at the time, I was dining hall party, washing dishes and cleaning. I used to volunteer for this job because I did'nt keep watches and got a full night sleep every night. I woke up at six, had a shower and necked a trip, just so I could watch a Sea Wolf missile leave its launcher at mach 2. This was'nt the best idea I have ever had. The word paranoid is often banded about when talking about drugs. Let me tell you. Unless you have taken an acid on a Royal Navy warship you have no idea. The worst bit was when I was washing the dishes and Paddy Macmillan, the Chief Artificer came with his plate and said, "wots up with you?" I said. "What do you mean?" He said "your face is covered in big red blotches" I just excrement myself, run off and hid in the toilet. I stayed there untill it was time for the missile to be launched. I never did find out what the red blotches were, obviously something to do with the gear. Upto the upper deck I went, not speaking or making eye contact with anyone. I found a good place to watch it, when I say good, I mean that nobody else was near me. I waited five minuets and off it went. You may think you have seen some good fireworks in your time but untill you've seen a Sea Wolf missile going off at mach 2 on acid you aint seen nothing.
My time in the navy was'nt a particularly happy one I was more interested in clubbing at the weekend than anything the navy had to offer me. My next ship was an aircraft carrier H.M.S Illustrious. This was in "mothballs" in a dry dock, apparently they coul'nt afford to run it. well, if they stop throwing fornicating missiles over the side they might have been able to. I was only on Ilustrious for a few monthes while waiting for my third and final ship.
H.M.S. Brazen was gas turbine anti submarine frigate, based in Plymouth. The trouble was, at the time Plymouth had a really good rave scene, and a cracking club called The Acadamy. this club was to be my downfall. Now, not having to drive 300 miles back to warrington, I was able to go raving right on my doorstep. on joining my new ship I quickly found like minded souls that liked to party into the small hours. One weekend when we wer'nt on duty, the four of us went into Plymouth for a night at The Acadamy. We had a great night, fueled on E's, speed and poppers. After the club closed we decided to finish the night off with a smoke, so we went into these gardens that go through the middle of Plymouths main shopping center. We sat down on this wall and I proceded to skin up. After rolling the joint I looked up and noticed a cctv camera pointing straight at us. I said " excrement! a camera, hide your gear and leg it." Just then a police car came screeming past the shops. I got on my toes and I was off like greased weasle excrement, hiding my gear as I ran. I stuffed a wrap of wizz and a bag of bush down my boxers and an eigth of resin under the back of my belt. We would have got away but one of the lads stopped running and gave himself up. On seeing this we knew that being in the navy he would

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have had no choice but to give our names. So we all stopped and went back upto the police. We reluctantly agreed to be searched. They frisked us but all that they found was a bottle of poppers in one of the lads pockets. This stuff was legal but they confiscated it anyway. They were just about to let us go when the camera operator came over the radio and said that one of us had hidden somthing down the back of his pants. On searching us again they found a wrap of speed on one of the other lads and then they found the resin I tucked under my belt. This was the end of my navy carrear. I managed to hide the speed in the police car but a strip search at the station revealed the bag of weed. The police did'nt charge us but in the morning we were handed over to the navys Special Investigaton Branch. After a 6 hours and a 260 page interview. We were finaly charged and sent back to the ship. I recieved 60 days in navy Detention Quarters, jail to you and me, and they kicked me out just 10 days before I was due to leave anyway. On leaving D.Q's the Chief behind the desk said " By the way, this come for you" and he threw my Gulf War Medal across the desk onto the floor. This now lives on my boats toilet door. I knew I had done wrong and deserved the time, but I still think I should have been allowed to do the last few days of my service. This I am still very bitter about and would like to get my own back in some small way. Oh did I not mention that the day we left for the gulf, we had a very high powered lazer fitted to the ship. This was used to blind enemy pilots, but all that the operators seemed to use it for was to blind the odd dolphin. Please do'nt tell anyone I told you, but this weapon was against the Geneva Convention. Naughty, naughty.



CHAPTER 3





Fast forward to the summer of 2007. I'm still doing drugs, not so much the acid, E's and speed but my drug of "choice" was cocain. I say choice because thats what it is at first. I used to use it just for going out at the weekends but this progressed to the odd gram midweek, and having it alone at home. I wanted to quit, but most of my friends were taking it, and whenever I went to the pub somebody would allways have a gram. It was really easy to get and you just could'nt get away from the stuff. Dont get me wrong, it was never pushed up my nose and to be honest I was proberbly worse than my mates. I needed to get away from it but could'nt think of how. At this time I had a girl friend called Lynne. We had been going out for a few years but things wer'nt going great. We never argued and we loved each other but we didnt see much of each other. Mainly because I would rather be coked up, at home or at the pub with my mates.
I knew thing wer'nt going well between us so I decided to pay for us to go on holiday to Turkey. Not having sailed since Anglsey I thought it would be a good idea to go on a cruise. Not just any cruise but on a traditional Turkish sailing boat called a Gullet. I decided on this after reading an artical in a sailing magazine. In this artical they said what a wonderful experiance it was but they also said that you had to make sure the Gullet you were booked on actually sailed and just did'nt go around with it's engine on all day. So after finding a company on the internet, I called the number and after checking that the boat we were to be on really sailed, I booked the holiday.
On arriving in Turkey, we were met at the airport by a very friendly bloke with a tash called Saddam. Thats a good start. He drove us into Marmaris and took us to our boat. On arrival we were greeted by the crew and we dumped our bags. The next thing, I went for a walk around the boat. The first thing I noticed was that the sail's were not fitted. Never mind, I thought, they were proberbly in the sail locker. On closer inspection I realised that there was'nt even any fittings on the masts to attach sails to. Right, thats it! I stormed to the back of the boat where the crew, and by now, most of the other guests were, and much to Lynne's embarasment, I procceded to kick off with them, shouting that I wanted my money back or they could get me another fornicating boat. One with sail's. Non of the crew understood a word of English but I did'nt care and was giving it them with both barrels. Then, one of the guests, an ex Royal Marine built like a brick shithouse came and grabbed me and said that I should calm down, as they could'nt understand me and proberbly could'nt do anything anyway, and he suggested that I take it up with Saddam. So, not wanting to incur the wrath of the green death, ( the navy's nick name for the Royal Marines) I promptly shut my mouth. By now Saddam was on the boat next

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door giving a welcome speech to the guests. I went over to the other boat and interupted his speech and asked him why, after we had specified a boat with sail's, had we been given one with non fitted? He said that there was nothing he could do about it and we would have to take it up with the company when we got home. I returned to our boat with a face like a slapped arse, I was'nt very happy. I realised that there was nothing I could do about it so I just had to carry on and try to enjoy the holiday. I sulked for the first couple of days, secretly enjoying myself but trying my best not to show it.
We became friendly with Brian the big marine, and his wife Julie. He was sound but his wife had a right fornicating gob on her, and she insisted on walking around all day with her tits out. Now this I usualy enjoy, but she was a right dog and they were swinging around her knees, it was enough to put anyone off there cous cous and grilled cat. I would have told her to put um away, but i think Brian was itching to give me a crack after ruining the start to his holiday. Anyway, I put up with her saggy tits and they put up with my sulking and the four of us got on really well. I was never going to ask them to be god parents to my first born, but as everyone else on the boat was from some eastern euopean excrement hole, these would have to do for our new holiday friends.
On the morning of the third day, after we had eaten breakfast, we upped anchor and set off for a town who's name I do'nt even want to try to remember. It was here that we were going to spend our one and only night ashore. It was around lunch time and I was flushing the toilet for about the tenth time. We had been told not to put paper down the loo as it blocks very easily. Now I do'nt know about you but I do'nt like the idea of putting my shitty bog roll into a bin for all the world to see, its just not civilised. I tried my best, but it was blocked. I had allready been told off twice for putting paper down but I just ignored them, so thist time I just left it. I started to make my way on deck when I heard the engine cut out. Great! I thought. Thats all we need, adrift in a sailing boat with no fornicating sail's. After my two days of sulking, this now ment i could be as smug as you like and piss poeple off even more. But this was not to be. On reaching the upper deck to my compleate supprise the crew had managed to find a sail, and as i approached they were all smiling at me. I thought, ten out of ten for trying boys but what fornicating use is that? It was the size of a dish cloth, there was no wind and the boat was designed for four. I smiled and thanked them and walked over to Lynne. She said, "Happy now?" I said "am I flip! Thats no fornicating good They might as well put the engine back on. She said "Theres just no fornicating pleasing you. Cheer up you miserable love child, your spoiling everones holiday." Now, Lynne is normally so cheerfull and hardly ever swears, so it was obvious she'd had enough, and after all, the whole point of this holiday was to try and make thing better between us. It was time for me to put my dummy back in, stop behaving like a spoiled kid and enjoy the rest of the holiday.
I cheered up and we continued on our journey. After about twenty minuets the crew started the engine and took down the sail, this did'nt bother me as i was'nt going to let it spoil the rest of of our time onboard and i was looking forward to an evening meal and a drink ashore with the rest of the guests.
It all started off so well. We had a lovely meal, lamb done some Turkish way. It was very nice but you cant beat gravy and a bit of mint sauce. After the meal we were treated to a show by a couple of belly dancers and everything was very civilised. Ok we'd had a few but we were on holiday, just soaking up the middle eastern ambiance. After a while

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everyone started to make there way back to the boat and the only poaple left were the Brits. Lynne, myself and or new found friends. The girls were getting on really well and were having a good time and I was talking with Brian. He was telling me how Julie can't handle her booze and gets really violent and hits him when she's pissed. You would'nt believe this because he was over 6 foot tall and must have weighed about 18 stone. and she was about 5 foot and weighed about 8 stone wet through. He kept telling me not to buy her any more drinks but I could see her getting louder and louder and swearing like a trooper, so I continued to buy her more and more. He then said to Julie that she'd had enough and it was time to get back. She replied "flip off!.who the flip are you to tell me how much i can fornicating drink?." I think I might have bought her one too many. He said to me, "I told you. Happy now?" I then got on Brians side and said to her that Lynne and I were going to head off back, so they might as well come with us. She said, "Do'nt you fornicating start you miserable twat or I'll throw you both in the fornicating drink." I shut up. Brian explained to her that we had an early start the day after and we would need some sleep. She replied, " Ok I'm coming but you've fornicating had it when we get back." At this, we got the bill and the girls decided they wanted to use the toilet. As they walked off , not wanting to be left alone with Brian, after turning his wife into the she devil and causing him a night of hell. I too went for a piss.
The toilets were a porta cabin, the gents on one side the ladies on the other and the walls were like paper. On entering I could hear the girls talking, Lynne was telling Julie about the reason we had come on this holliday and how things had'nt been going to well between us back home. She then told her that she intended to finish with me when we got home. I was shocked and back through the wall I shouted. "Were finished now bitch!" I thought thats just great. Fancy telling a compleat stranger about all our problems (why does'nt she just write a book?) and then to tell her she was going to dump me when we got home. She could have told me before I had just shelled out a grand for the fornicating holiday. I went outside just as Lynne was leaving the ladies. She was crying saying that she was sorry and she never really ment it. I said " it's too fornicating late now, you've got what you wanted, were finished." I stormed off, heading back to the boat, Lynne trailing behind me crying her eyes out, all the time telling me that she was sorry and she did'nt really want to split up. I just ignored her and continued back.
When I got there the crew were asleep on the back of the boat. I made my way past them and went down to our cabin. I got out my bag and started to pack, Lynne came in and still crying ask me what I was doing. I said, "What does it look like I'm fornicating doing." In the drunken rage I was in I thought I would leave the boat, find a hotel for the night and then get a flight home in the morning. I told her this and she replied that it proberbly woul'nt be a good idea as i did'nt have a clue where we were and the airport could be hundreds of miles away. But, stubborn as I am I compleatly ignored her and continued packing.
I started the long walk into town, all the time thinking why is it me thats going? I should have booted her out, she caused it all. After about 15 minuets I started to think of an excuse to go back. Lynne was right, I did'nt know where I was and besides it would cost me a fortune. I turned around and went back. When I got there the lights were on and all the crew were awake.Lynne was sat at the back of the boat still crying. As i walked past her she said, Good, you've come back." I said, "No i havn'nt i just forgot my

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phone." secretly I had come back but did'nt want to lose face, as it was a stupid idea.
Those were the last words I said to her for three days. Each morning after after I woke up,I would grab my book, go upto the upper deck and sit and read all day, Lynne would try to talk to me but I nerver once replied. It was obviouse to everyone on the boat that me and Lynne wer'nt talking. I wanted to talk to her but I was very angry at what she had said to a compleat stranger and my pride got in the way. I actually felt very sorry for her, because I know she was drunk and did'nt really mean it but I sort of had to make her pay.
On the last day she came upto me and once again apologised. She had suffered enough, so had I come to think about it. We made kissed and made up just intime for the flight home. What a holiday that was, not only had it not helped Lynne and I to sort things out, it had made things a lot worse. On top of that I did'nt get to do any sailing.