Reality

 

"The Jolly Puffin" with bloggers on board

Reality 1

Oh God! This ocean is so wide and empty. It seems to stretch forever, far beyond our imaginings.

We saw a majestic albatross sailing in the blue sky this morning, silhouetted against the sun and in the afternoon a pod of playful dolphins followed in the wake of "The Jolly Puffin". Our skipper, Captain Flounders, claims that he regularly sees blue whales surfacing on the run to Tristan da Cunha but we haven't seen any yet.

Some of the bloggers and blog fans on board have asked not to be named for personal and security reasons so I have to honour their requests. However, as well as Jennifer Barlow I can reveal that the Isle of Man blogger Jaycee Manx is also on board with her husband Peregrine. They are not on holiday in Madrid as her blog currently claims. That is a mere ruse, just cunning subterfuge.

They keep themselves to themselves. At lunchtime today, I tried to converse with Jaycee but Lord Peregrine pulled her away with fire in his glaring eyes - as if to say, "She's mine! Keep Off!" It's a look I have seen before.

We are over two days into our voyage now and as Tristan da Cunha gets closer so do the end of this difficult year's greatest revelations - the winners of Laughing Horse Blog Awards - especially the winner of the overall "Blogger of the Year" award. Who will it be? The tension mounts as we ride the rolling waves.

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Reality 2

Boxing Day. What does it mean? In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, it became the tradition here in some parts of England for Christmas "boxes" to be given by employers to their employees in recognition of good service. The boxes would contain a range of useful gifts and some would simply be food parcels for food was quite popular with the downtrodden in those distant times.

After another shorter-than-expected sleep, we were down at Frances and Stew's house for breakfast. Ian and Sarah were already packing up their car ready for the long drive back to London. The sky was blue again and the temperature was unseasonably benign. That's how it stayed for three hours in the middle of the day.

After we had waved off the big black Volvo and wee Zachary, the rest of us headed down the hill to Endcliffe Park. This is the much-loved beating heart of Sheffield 11 and there were plenty of amblers out and about enjoying the day but none were carrying boxes on Boxing Day.

In the children's play area, I met somebody I had not seen in fifteen years or more - one of our Ian's old school friends - Tom. He lives in Edinburgh now but was back in Sheffield visiting his family - including his ailing mother. He was back with his partner Steph and their two small daughters. 

And there lies a tale to tell. Fifteen years ago, he fell seriously ill while on holiday in Vietnam. It seems that he had developed a serious blood condition - a kind of cancer that threatened his life.

Getting through that danger was long and tortuous. He came close to death and in the end needed a stem cell transplant to survive along with powerful drugs to  sustain his immune system. Linked to this treatment, he was asked if he would like to preserve some of his sperm in case he wanted to father a child in the future.

The two girls I saw playing in the park today were the direct result of his decision. It's a good news story. I shook Steph's hand in recognition of the generous and stalwart support she gave Tom during the darkest years of his life. She stood by him and helped him to live again. She is an amazing woman.

We watched a mist descending over the green park and headed back to Stew and Frances's house for a  Boxing Day feast made from Christmas Day leftovers.