Today’s the day that Caroline goes to the RORC Awards Dinner to receive our Seamanship award. I’ve been thinking a lot about that award and, it seems to me, special recognition by one’s peers in a very hard school in a difficult discipline is about as good as it can possibly get. I’m not in any position to make comparisons, but for quiet enjoyment of a small place in the cobwebs of history, I think that for me it beats an Olympic medal hands down, when once I thought that an Olympic medal was all there was. I have a sneaky feeling that Pete is out here on the same twig. I might perhaps predict that the Examiner, great expositor of the truth that she is, will give us a Credit or skinny Distinction for planning and an HD for execution. We’ll see. We still have to make that start line. I’ve got a lot of time for the Examiner – she’s been fair, exacting, astonishingly tough and, in the end, just a bit forgiving. Onya, Ma’am. What University gave you the hot pink hood? And for what?
If all y’all who are doing your RORCus stuff tonight get to read this first, you can bet London to a brick that the two of us are going to be hanging out with the satphone in cotton wool waiting for Caro’s post-award phone call at 2300. We will have Dave’s RANSA Bundy at the ready for a very special celebration.
The logs ramblings can be cryptic, so we have added: