Zetland 27
darthcourt10
Well worn.
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Weaver
Saturday 21st December 2013
It had begun, as many visits from the Good Idea Fairy do, with alcohol. Not a particularly large amount mind you, just enough to for it to be a good thing that there were other lifeboat volunteers who could deal with things if there was a shout and for common sense to be less vocal than usual.
It had started with one of them talking about how he was planning to get some fish for his pond sometime after New Year's to replace the ones who'd died from some fishy disease earlier in the year and complaining how much they cost. One of his friends jokingly commented that the pond in question was big enough to summon a shipgirl in. The conversation moved on, eventually arriving a couple of pints later at the subject of Zetland and what she was doing for the holidays, with someone commenting that it was a shame that none of the other lifeboats were around and wondering if Zetland ever got lonely because of it.
It was then that the Good Idea Fairy struck. One of them had the pond, another, the only non-RNLI volunteer of the four, did woodworking in his shed, both lived within easy walking distance of the pub and they'd all had enough to drink to prevent them from thinking better of it. So they headed out with the intention of giving the world's oldest lifeboat an early Christmas present to the house of the man with the pond, the woodworker taking a detour back to his own home to retrieve about a third of a rubble bag's worth of assorted off-cuts.
The best of the off-cuts were arranged in a pile by the pond, then after some discussion the pond's owner made a speech.
"Oh great and mysterious realm that shipgirls come from. On behalf of the Redcar RNLI we ask that one of our old boats be returned to us. We've already got the oldest but we think she could do with some company so if one of her successors could come back that'd be great, thanks."
They then collectively launched into an off key rendition of the RNLI's unofficial anthem.
"Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea.
On a cold winters night
With a storm at its height
The lifeboat answered the call.
They pitched and they tossed
Till we thought they were lost
As we watched from the harbor wall.
Though the night was pitch black,
There was no turning back,
For someone was waiting out there,
But each volunteer
Had to live with his fear
As they joined in a silent prayer.
Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea."
At first nothing happened but they kept on singing.
"As they battled their way
Past the mouth of the bay,
It was blowing like never before.
As they gallantly fought,
Every one of them thought
Of loved ones back on the shore.
Then a flicker of light
And they knew they were right.
There she was on the crest of a wave.
She's an old fishing boat
And she's barely afloat.
Please God, there are souls we can save."
The pond started to bubble. Encouraged, they sang louder as they approached the end of the song.
"Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea.
And back in the town
In a street that runs down
To the sea and the harbor wall,
They'd gathered in pairs
At the foot of the stairs
To wait for the radio call.
And just before dawn
When all hope had gone
Came a hush and a faraway sound.
'Twas the coxswain he roared
All survivors on board
Thank God and we're homeward bound. "
The pile of wood disappeared. They sang the last repetition of the chorus anyway.
""Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea."
"Woof!"
Song finished, the looked in the pond to see a Newfoundland looking back, tail wagging slightly and head cocked.
It was at that moment that the memory of a comment by Zetland regarding her opinion of how smaller boats usually came back finally decided to rise to the surface of the brain of the one who'd joked about the pond's size.
"Zetland is going to kill us."
******************
Monday, 23rd December 2013
Package under his arm, Dan approached the door to Zetland's room and knocked.
"Woof! Woof!"
"Shush. Come in."
Opening the door he was met by the sight of Zealand sitting on her sofa, a Newfoundland sat on the floor beside her.
"Hi. Thought I'd bring you your Christmas present since I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to visit again until after Christmas."
He gestured at the dog.
"I heard about what happened. Not sure what they were thinking to be honest."
"Me neither. I had words with them about it when I found out. Not that I've got a problem with my furry friend here herself, although I think that she did with me until I broke out the Hobnobs. Still took me most of a packet to win her over."
She scratched the dog behind the ears.
"Dan, may I introduce Crossley. Crossley, say hello to my friend Dan."
"Woof!"
Saturday 21st December 2013
It had begun, as many visits from the Good Idea Fairy do, with alcohol. Not a particularly large amount mind you, just enough to for it to be a good thing that there were other lifeboat volunteers who could deal with things if there was a shout and for common sense to be less vocal than usual.
It had started with one of them talking about how he was planning to get some fish for his pond sometime after New Year's to replace the ones who'd died from some fishy disease earlier in the year and complaining how much they cost. One of his friends jokingly commented that the pond in question was big enough to summon a shipgirl in. The conversation moved on, eventually arriving a couple of pints later at the subject of Zetland and what she was doing for the holidays, with someone commenting that it was a shame that none of the other lifeboats were around and wondering if Zetland ever got lonely because of it.
It was then that the Good Idea Fairy struck. One of them had the pond, another, the only non-RNLI volunteer of the four, did woodworking in his shed, both lived within easy walking distance of the pub and they'd all had enough to drink to prevent them from thinking better of it. So they headed out with the intention of giving the world's oldest lifeboat an early Christmas present to the house of the man with the pond, the woodworker taking a detour back to his own home to retrieve about a third of a rubble bag's worth of assorted off-cuts.
The best of the off-cuts were arranged in a pile by the pond, then after some discussion the pond's owner made a speech.
"Oh great and mysterious realm that shipgirls come from. On behalf of the Redcar RNLI we ask that one of our old boats be returned to us. We've already got the oldest but we think she could do with some company so if one of her successors could come back that'd be great, thanks."
They then collectively launched into an off key rendition of the RNLI's unofficial anthem.
"Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea.
On a cold winters night
With a storm at its height
The lifeboat answered the call.
They pitched and they tossed
Till we thought they were lost
As we watched from the harbor wall.
Though the night was pitch black,
There was no turning back,
For someone was waiting out there,
But each volunteer
Had to live with his fear
As they joined in a silent prayer.
Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea."
At first nothing happened but they kept on singing.
"As they battled their way
Past the mouth of the bay,
It was blowing like never before.
As they gallantly fought,
Every one of them thought
Of loved ones back on the shore.
Then a flicker of light
And they knew they were right.
There she was on the crest of a wave.
She's an old fishing boat
And she's barely afloat.
Please God, there are souls we can save."
The pond started to bubble. Encouraged, they sang louder as they approached the end of the song.
"Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea.
And back in the town
In a street that runs down
To the sea and the harbor wall,
They'd gathered in pairs
At the foot of the stairs
To wait for the radio call.
And just before dawn
When all hope had gone
Came a hush and a faraway sound.
'Twas the coxswain he roared
All survivors on board
Thank God and we're homeward bound. "
The pile of wood disappeared. They sang the last repetition of the chorus anyway.
""Home, home, home from the sea
Angels of mercy, answer our plea
And carry us home, home, home from the sea
Carry us safely home from the sea."
"Woof!"
Song finished, the looked in the pond to see a Newfoundland looking back, tail wagging slightly and head cocked.
It was at that moment that the memory of a comment by Zetland regarding her opinion of how smaller boats usually came back finally decided to rise to the surface of the brain of the one who'd joked about the pond's size.
"Zetland is going to kill us."
******************
Monday, 23rd December 2013
Package under his arm, Dan approached the door to Zetland's room and knocked.
"Woof! Woof!"
"Shush. Come in."
Opening the door he was met by the sight of Zealand sitting on her sofa, a Newfoundland sat on the floor beside her.
"Hi. Thought I'd bring you your Christmas present since I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to visit again until after Christmas."
He gestured at the dog.
"I heard about what happened. Not sure what they were thinking to be honest."
"Me neither. I had words with them about it when I found out. Not that I've got a problem with my furry friend here herself, although I think that she did with me until I broke out the Hobnobs. Still took me most of a packet to win her over."
She scratched the dog behind the ears.
"Dan, may I introduce Crossley. Crossley, say hello to my friend Dan."
"Woof!"