January 24, 2012 § Leave a comment
They say it took ten men to get it up there, into that field halfway up the hill that overlooks the town and the lake – well, ten men, a lorry and a land rover in the end. God knows why he wanted it in the field. Beautiful boat like that? You’d want it where you could use it, down on the lake, wind pushing at the sails. Not stuck up there.
He’s an odd sort, mind, the owner. More money than sense, some say, and others, well. You can bump into him in the pub and he’ll be telling you about this grand plan and that madcap scheme. Aye, he’s tried the lot of them. Folk say he’s a Rolls stashed away in one of his outbuildings, not moved since the day he drove it in there twenty years ago. Thing’ll be seized now, and no use to anyone.
Doesn’t seem bothered. Always on with his next big idea, dropping the last one as if it were red hot.
So now there’s this boat – a yacht, if you were to use the right term – and it must have been in the field for five years now, not moving an inch. Sheep grazing at the keel, or cows pushing at the wooden frame that holds it in place. The prow still facing the lake like a dog pointing, as if it knows.
You’ve to wonder where it might have been, a boat like that. Whether it sailed the southern oceans, crossed the atlantic in record time, perhaps shrugged a skipper off into the depths, never to be seen again.
You won’t know; he’ll likely as not have forgotten, moved on to something else, his boat left landlocked up in this field.