Broken Trips

Last time I broke anything I was 7.

We were in the Cape Verde Islands with the mast stretched out on the shore. Dad was working to replace the splintered topmast.

Somewhere in between The Canary Islands and Barbados, Riduna, our little 32’ gaff cutter had a close shave with a super tanker in the middle of the night.

The way I remember Dad telling it is that one night we all came down with tummy bugs, and because there was no wind, and dad thought we were out of the shipping lane, he decided it would be pretty safe to snooze below with the rest of the family.
He awoke in the dark to the sound of waves slightly breaking and figured that there must be some wind, so stuck his head out of the companionway. No wind but he could see the breaking waves in the dark of the moonless starless night. He then looked up and up and up and far above him saw the decks of a HUGE ship. The night wasn’t as dark as he had thought; he was looking out at the hull.

We were lucky; the ship was steaming past us travelling in the same direction. The motion rolled our boat into the hull and the topmast pounded against it. It snapped off and fell down the gap into the sea, taking the forestay with it. As the ship’s bridge passed Dad could hear foreign voices shouting but there was nothing they could do. It takes a super tanker 7-10 miles to stop. He said that the ship took ages to pass, went on and on, and with each roll he thought that we would be goners, or that the forestay that was trailing would get caught up in the mega-sized port propeller and pull us in with it. I’m sure he must have been ‘very worried’, (or crapping himself actually), but the tanker passed by and we were left in a quiet sea and a sky full of stars once more. He could see that the ship was an oil tanker but it was too dark to see any identifying features. In those days we didn't have a VHF or any mod cons, just a radar reflector up near the crosstrees, so no way of contacting the ship even if Dad wanted to. We were on our own. Fortunately, as you will see from the photo above, the loss of the topmast only restricted the number of sails we could use, but nonetheless was enough of an inconvenience to have to do something about. Another job for Dad to deal with.

So, we took an unplanned detour to The Cape Verde Islands, and there I was one day riding cross-saddle on someone's bike along the harbour quay. Somehow I managed to let my heel get too close to the spokes and before I knew it I had a cast up to my knee. I'd broken my heel bone. The biggest disappointment was not being able to swim. Dad fixed the mast, we re-provisioned and we were off towards Barbados again before my cast was due off. I remember Dad cutting it off, (the Cast not my leg), somewhere mid-Atlantic and physiotherapy was boat-based.

37 years later and I was ice-skating with Gadgetgirlie down at Guildford Spectrum. I’ve been several times before and after all, I have been roller-blading since Christmas so my ankles are stronger now. Still, I fell loads, got wet, carried on and then fell awkwardly. I knew I’d done something because it felt like someone had pulled a string tight inside my leg, and I couldn’t get up. Major pain died away after a couple of minutes and I thought maybe I’d sprained it. I could wriggle my toes inside my boot so surely it wasn’t broken. The staff skater said that I would definitely know if I had broken it. Ggirlie and her friend hovered anxiously like ducklings. She made me laugh 'cos she kept repeating, ‘Oh mummy, Oh mummy', in her best sympathetic voice. I wasn’t in agony unless I moved my ankle the wrong way but just didn’t want to try to stand on the ice. The staff skater, (after warning me), blew his whistle and cleared all the skaters to the sides. My bum was cold and wet by then and I was quite keen to get off the ice. I was carted off on a stretcher into the first aid room. I wanted to take the boot off, but the firstaider didn’t.
I took my skate off anyway and showed her that I could wriggle my toes, then experimented with moving my foot around. The ankle was swelling up and the firstaider wanted me to go off to hospital. I didn’t. I wanted to get the car and kids home and reassess once there. I showed the firstaider that I could weight bear and put my shoes back on. So I hobbled slowly out to the car and the girls helped and played as we made our way at a snails pace. My car just happened to be parked in the furthest corner of the overflow car park. It couldn’t have been further away. We made it and I collapsed gratefully into the drivers seat. Just to be safe, I practised manoeuvring my foot between the accelerator and brake pedals, and then practised a couple of emergency stops as we drove out of the car park. I figured we were safe with me behind the wheel so off we drove up the A3 and home, 26 miles). My ankle hurt and I could feel it swelling in my shoe so knew a trip to casualty was on the cards. Once home, I gently peeled my sock and shoe off and put it up on the sofa. Andy cooked dinner then later delivered me to casualty armed with my book and mobile. I was done and dusted in 3 hours. Broken fibula but not displaced so no operation needed. Doc was very surprised that I had managed to do what I had, called me a ‘tough lady’. I was pleased to hear that, good to know that I could cope without panicking the kids with screams of agony but then it wasn’t a bad break and I was careful to avoid the painful ankle positions.



I am now on my second cast and was amused to find that I could choose my colour. I didn’t believe the plaster technician when he offered me glitter too. Thought he was taking the mick, he wasn’t, so here I am in a glittery purple cast for 4 weeks.



I’ve only been back at work for a month so in that sense this is very frustrating, however there is nothing that I can do to change what has happened and don’t see why I should avoid any activity just because I might break something. I just have to take something positive from this time of restricted movement and until I can weight bear and anyway for the next 2-3 weeks I have been told that the only way to avoid maximum swelling is by keeping my foot up.

Gman and the kids are being brilliant; in fact Gman is enjoying me being dependant on him for the first time ever, and has been producing some lovely dinners. He would make a great nurse or carer!

Gteen was a bit unsympathetic to start with, thought I was exaggerating and told me I should be going to work because he believed that I would make him go in the same situation! Even he has been helpful, filling up my flask with coffee when asked.

Ggirlie has taken my spot in our bed whilst I have been downstairs on the sofa; hope she doesn’t think this is permanent. She's borrowed a friends spare crutch and has come out with a sympathetic broken ankle.



They have both been taking advantage of my immobility and eating anything yummy in the kitchen when they come home from school.

I managed to watch one day of daytime tv, too dull to repeat and have other options far more interesting.

I’ve spent most of my time with my precious laptop on my lap.
Not playing games or spending money on ebay or such like.
No, I’ve been continuing the research into our Canada plans.
Everything happens for a reason doesn’t it?

We’ve not had any response to job applications sent so far and I have found out that resumes will be binned if attached in our A4 format so no wonder.

I have investigated us renting out our house, taking some capital out, storing all our belongings in the garage and in the loft, and going to Canada on a 6 month reccy visit, during which Gman could take a couple of gas fitter courses to get his qualifications recognised then applying for any suitable jobs going and being on hand to attend interviews. We could buy a motor home and park on my brother’s land and live fairly cheaply. However this is a big gamble and our plans of Gman getting a job may not be as easy as expected or hoped and without a work permit we would have to return to find a source of income.

I am investigating which colleges offer the courses needed by reading lots of college sites and sending lots of emails. I need to establish exactly which course is appropriate for Gmans level of certification and experience. There is no point in going in as a newbie to the trade but he will have to gen up on BC regs and working practices.

I spend many hours on the expats site, taking what I can from others experiences and saving pages on relevant subjects for future use as needed.

I took a practice BC theory driving test that a member had put on as a link and got 24/25.

I’ve welcomed newcomers to the site in the ‘Meet and greet’ forum as I was when I first joined the forum and contributed in several threads, (cyber conversations).

I’ve managed to get hold of my French tutor from evening classes and he has sent me what I’ve missed and will continue to.

I’ve read quite a few books, James Patterson is my latest easy-read thriller author and I stay up far later than I should unable to put my book down.

A long post but hey, lots of time on my hands, (numb bum), at the moment and need to make up for not posting more regularly. I wanted to attach relevant photos and it was all too complicated to load up the laptop with the software needed sooner.