The Boatbird Cap

7 Jul

Well, the boatbird cap has had a much overdue airing – see Moving Bella.

It’s not the original boatbird cap; that was lost to high winds on The Thames last year. But, as it was a find on Southwold beach many moons ago, it was never really mine in the first place. No, it was just a temporary possession and my time with it was obviously over.

But the old grey number served me well. It gave me courage in the early days, a sort of comforter and a key part of the ritual that got me on the tiller when it was time to move the boat. When that trusty cap was on my head and my silken tresses pulled through to form an integral ponytail, a message zapped to my brain. A message that said: ‘be brave – you can do this – you are in charge – you are the skipper’.

So, RIP the grey cap and long live the black one…

…seen here modelled by Boris; First Mate in John’s absence, Skipper and caretaker when I’m away.

I acquired this (the cap not the bear) in South Africa last year, it being made by John’s flying friend Jaco. A very nice man, police detective by trade, but we won’t hold that against him.

The new model is showing all the signs of being an excellent successor and seems to have the necessary qualities expected of such an important piece of headgear: it fits, looks good, keeps my hair in check and the sun out of my eyes. OK, so it doesn’t have to work too hard on the last task but rises to the occasion, should the sun ever decide to come out and play.

It also works the same magic. For me, it’s more than just an item of clothing, a fashion statement or useful bit of kit. It is organic – a living breathing thing. A trusted friend.

But for now this hangs on the curtain pole, eagerly awaiting its next outing…

…which hopefully isn’t too far away.

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