Long Island

But that remains, to this day, the wettest I've ever been. In retrospect it was all a bit of an adventure, but one I'd certainly rather not repeat...

I've had more than a few adventures I'd rather not repeat over the years and I think that a fair share of them are probably because of my [now] Mr. H. I think my 'favourite' [read 'most extreme and least likely to be repeated'] was probably our trip to Long Island.

As is so often the case, it was Mr. H. who announced his marvellous plan for a trip to stay on one of the islands in Poole harbour. I think at this point he and some of our other friends had already been on one such trip, and had all lived to tell the tale. Although, if I remember rightly, one of the participants had, after swimming back to the mainland early the next morning, gone directly to work at Barkley's House, smelling of sea water and lack of showers...

So, knowing that people had already participated in this journey and returned intact, I agreed to join him and two others under the condition that I would not have to swim. We had a small inflatable dingy and I intended to cross over the harbour in this.

The first obstacle we faced was transporting our equipment from the carpark at Arne to the water. This is a relatively short journey, but we were carrying food, camping equipment (including a 4 man frame tent) and a boat by foot, which made it somewhat more difficult. When we reached the beach, the boys loaded up the dingy with the first instalment of our belongings and set off into the sea, leaving me on the beach with the second batch.

I watched them struggle against the current with some other visitors to the area (who had come in a real boat, with an engine and rooms and which doesn't need to be filled with air in order to function) and eventually reach our destination. Shortly after they had unloaded, two of them set out on the return leg in order to collect me and the rest of the cargo. But it was not long before it was quite apparent that the currents had now defeated them. When Mr. H. had returned to shore I received a phone call from him, explaining that they were trapped on the island in the harbour, and that I was consequently trapped on the beach.

We were mid discussion about calling the coastguard when one of my fellow spectators offered me a lift in his motorised dingy. I foolishly accepted with great gratitude, and before long had joined my friends with our possessions on the island. We thanked the man who had given me a lift and set about putting up the [enormous] tent and barbecuing our dinner. It was a good evening!

The next morning, however, the tide was high and the currents were strong. The boys tried swimming back and failed. I still refused to swim (this had been a condition of my participation in the 'adventure'), and before long we were all sitting on the beach wondering what to do.

Mr H. eventually decided to phone his mum, who in turned called some friends who own a motor boat which was moored nearby. A few hours later we were travelling back to the marina in style, although I understand that launching a boat is an expensive business, so we were very grateful to our rescuers!

All in all, it was a proper adventure, with members of the public transporting us to places from which we couldn't possibly return, and friends-of-friends rescuing us in a speed boat. I wouldn't go again, though, unless we have a canoe or similar next time. Mr H. is not renowned for his organisational skills.