I thought, while I am on the subject of the MVS, I might introduce you gradually to our members. (Be aware crew, I am out for blackmail material with the camera!)

“Hornblower”, alias Paul Joseph. Commonly seen on roofs about the Swansea area. A man with a head for heights – although questions have been asked about his sea legs – in fact, about his legs in general. Loves the front man role – and in fairness, the unit probably would not exist without him. Scourge of the English Units (for some unknown reason they seem to think the Welsh have an “attitude”. Cannot image why!

Star sign -Pluto. Favourite colour -puce. Pet hates – Cardiff City FC and stop tap. Claim to fame – grounded our RIB more than anyone else in the unit.

Now let me introduce you to Sam –

When Sam joined us I thought she would be the most unlikely candidate for our band of misfits. Far from it. She has proven herself to be more than a capable member. A single Mum (open to offers from hunky millionaire studs), who has launched herself into the MVS with gusto. So far she has managed to avoid aquiring a nickname – but it is only a matter of time. She has developed a very high standard of boat handling skills, and is now also a commited member of the Lougher Inshore Lifeboat crew. Her drunken hedge-leaping skills are spectacular! English Units beware – do not get into a drinking competition with this girl – she may be small, but her size belies her capacity.

Nothing to do with members of our unit – dogs. Every year the Swansea Maritime Festival (Swansea Council – get your act together – it is supposed to be a MARITIME Festival), features an appearance from Newfoundland dog enthusiasts. However, they have double booked this year, so sadly will not be with us. These magnificent animals, weighing in at 140 lbs+ were originally bred to save the lives of fishermen who fell overboard. They have web feet, and enormous appetites. Their display has as a climax one dog towing eight or more people through the water. This is no mean task, and in one display it included Digger (an ex-member of the MVS, weighing in himself at an unmentionable weight) and seven others. Impressive! One of the funniest sights I have seen is when all the Newfoundlands turned up with a 100lb pup – that was afraid of the water! Look carefully at the photograph, the dog is aboard the RIB.

This photo, taken I think at the Portsmouth Festival of the Sea in 2005, is of some members of the Swansea Unit, with Digger in the front tickling Henry’s fancy.

Spare Rib

Thought I might introduce you to this rather sad little craft. Fondly known as “Spare Rib” (as opposed to our RIB – rigid inflatable boat – which is called Jack Tar). This small ex-police inflatable was donated to use after a full working life with South Wales Constabulary. We use it far work on the River Tawe in Swansea, and it has proven itself as a good working tool, even though it is now showing it’s age. It has also taken part in safety exercises in Swansea Bay, but one would not wish to set to sea in anything much more than a force 3. Needless to say, it has no home comforts, being and airy sort of craft even on a warm summer’s day. However, it plays a key role in training new members – and is a stern reminder [sorry!] for those mariners more used to the luxury of a steering wheel. Seen here at the inaugural opening of the Swansea SA1 development, where it acted as a safety boat on the King’s Dock. Unfortunately the evening was washed out by a force 8 storm, and even the harbour became unmanageable for all craft involved. The crews still managed to enjoy themselves – that is, after drying out and adjourning to the yacht club.

By the way, if anyone wishes to donate a craft to this small registered charity we would certainly welcome their contribution!

Also present were a bunch of dodgy looking pirates. I’m not convinced that this lot would have terrorised the high seas – however, when they were actually fighting, on a floating pontoon in the middle of the harbour in an impending storm, they certainly went at each other with a vengeance. No injuries were sustained – but Swansea High Street saw some action later in the day!

I have always been a person with a low “boredom threshold”, hence the fact that I enjoy working in an environment that is hectic and demanding. In recent weeks I have had an enforced change of lifestyle as a consequence of high blood pressure. My full time occupation, working with local government in a “people problem solving ” role,  allows me to live off daily adrenalin bursts – although the degree of political interference is now obtrusive. Fortunately I may now be in a position to retire, and perhaps follow my passion for photography on a larger scale. In the meantime, I am on sick-leave.

However, being carless at the moment, and the weather akin to the monsoon season, I find myself confined to the house. This has it’s advantages as my tolerant and loving partner no longer has to consider domestic chores at the end of her working day. It is a large house, and a bit like painting the Firth of Forth bridge, once you finish the job it is time to start again. Having been converted from a Guinness loving, rugby following, chauvinist male, to something of a new man, the role of a Domestic God still does not sit easily with me. Inevitably I find myself  looking for diversions. The latest of these involves a blender – bought some time ago when thoughts of living a healthier lifestyle were a minor consideration – never used, but now brought out from its hiding place, dusted down, and pressed into action. This is where the boredom takes over. Now, whilst trying to be conscientious about getting the right amount of fruit & veg each day, generations of Irish ancestry  ensure that at least some degree of alcohol has to feature in the diet. After experimenting with a few simple “smoothies” involving harmless fruit and other health-giving ingredients, my attention wanders back toward the question of “I wonder how this would work with a little alcohol added?”. Initial experiments have proved interesting, although the consistency of some of the creations may prove to be a new source of building material. With further practice, and an even higher alcohol content, things are improving. For the time being the recipes are a secret, at least until the research is completed, and the hangover period is established. But on the plus side it must be said that this is an excellent ploy, whilst appearing a reformed health freak, one is able to maintain a level of equilibrium in the metabolism.

The down side of this boredom phase is the continuation of my perennial “rant against the machine”. I freely admit that the only machines I have had a reasonable working relationship with have been cameras. Even these have now proven to be a nightmare, since the newest Nikon comes with a 600 page instruction book. Who the fuck reads a 600 page instruction book! Of course you read the “quick start” and then launch yourself into the world expecting to capture amazing images. Of course, it doesn’t work like that.  I am now forced to try & decipher how this ultra complex piece of technology functions. Add to this a range of seriously alcoholic smoothies and we end up with something reminiscent of an LSD experience, with images floating around the head making no sense whatsoever. Consequence – you look for an alternative pastime.

I’m almost afraid to mention the bloody computer! It seems that whatever I do on this machine IT FIGHTS BACK! Something as simple as buying a product from a company on e-Bay this morning proved to be a Herculean task. I think I got there in the end, but gave up on the idea of trying to make it into a multiple order. When I am in work the IT section are kept in permanent employment by me alone! Here, in this technical dessert, I am left stranded, frustrated, angry – and pissed with an overdose of 90%proof smoothies! But even this is preferable to the last option – watching mindblowingly boring daytime Sky television.

Maybe I’ll go and make another smoothie.

Thanks to Alec for his comments. In answer, I will try and share some of the limited knowledge I have tripped over in my life.

At the age of 57 I have seen mindblowing , ridiculous changes in this world of ours. For young people today this is a truly exciting and dangerous time to be alive. When I was young my grandparents in Ireland got about by means of a horse & trap. Laughingly, my Grandfather was also regarded as the local fire-brigade. In the rare event of a fire in the village of Ballyporeen, he was summoned from whichever pub he was holed up in, cycled back to his farm, and attached the cart to the horse, loaded it with the hoses and pump, and then “raced” to the fire. Needless to say, if anyone was unfortunate enough to have a fire (and most of the farms had thatched roofs) they usually lost everything. However, the community rallied around to help the poor family to rebuild their lives. The village had few phones – only the Garda (Police), the doctor and the local priest as far as I remember. We were regarded as wealthy by comparison – we had a Morris 1000 car!

Ireland has changed, it is now a sophisticated and wealthy country, and the population is returning in great numbers. There still remains a deep sense of “caring”within the Irish psyche, but inevitably in a modern, fast moving environment, fewer people have time to stop and talk any more.

I was brought up in Wales, but very much in an Irish Catholic tradition. As a child and a young teenager politics was alien to me. Wales had, and still has, a strong alliance to a Labour movement. It was unquestioned that the Labour party dominated Welsh politics. The standing joke was that if a donkey was nominated it would still be voted for. Quite a few donkeys were in fact voted for. On the other hand, there was a stronghold of principled men and women who took their political views passionately and honestly. Their politics were born from suppression by wealthy businesmen – and generations were kept in ignorance by the establishment (which was composed of the same businessmen). It was the miners in Wales who instigated education for the working class, not the employers or the Westminster dominated rulers.

Russia, and the so-called “Iron Curtain” countries were presented as a dark & dangerous entity, always threatening, waiting for the opportunity to invade the “free” world. Anyone locally who was a known member of the Communist Party was regarded as an eccentric, a fanatic, or a pseudo-intellectual who had gone off the rails. The local Communist Party members, equally, presented news from the Soviet block in a sickeningly biased way, never allowing for criticism of a system which they propagated as a perfect model for mankind.

My first real awakening to politics was around the time of the Cuba crisis. The consequences of this ludicrous nuclear standoff were too large for me to comprehend. I just could not believe that our so-called leaders would get themselves into such an impasse – particularly in the light of lessons that should have been learned from two World Wars. What did they hope to gain by wiping each other out? In fact that is not truthful. What did they hope to gain by wiping each other’s population out while they cowered in their respective bunkers? Has the logic and the wisdom of today’s politicians improved? Needless to say, at this point of awakening for me into the direct consequence of politics – I joined the peace movement. Amusingly, my mother and grand-mother still had pictures set in a single frame of Pope Pius, Pope John Paul & President John Kennedy. If only we had known then what we know now about Kennedy and what a corrupt womaniser he was, my Grandmother would have had a heart attack! We lived at a time when we looked for simple heroes. Knowledge of the reality was suppressed on a massive scale.

In an effort to make sense of life – and to the horror of my parents – I left home at 15 in order to train as a priest. There is a lot to be said for cloistering a person at a young age, filling them with dogma, and letting them loose on the world. Fortunately for the Vatican I began to have serious doubts after I was sent to the English College in Lisboa, Portugal. Learning – as seems to be common practice in most education systems – was about teaching you specific questions and answers by rote. I was something of a thorn in the side of various teachers, as I insisted on asking questions that were not within their framework. Humanae Vitae was a prime example, a papal encyclical regarding birth control. It was proposed that it was “unnatural”. I argued that so were a number of features of modern day life – and suspected that the truth actually lay in the propagation of lots of little new Catholics for the Pope’s army of missionaries! Needless to say, I left the seminary without much aplomb! This was also about the time that Jean Shrimpton brought the mini-skirt to life. What a discovery!!!

What was also interesting at this time was that I was living in Portugal while it was under Salazaar’s dictatorship. I had several brushes with the local police. On one occasion I was happily photographing ships loading and unloading in the beautful Lisboa harbour ( I always had a passion for ships and the sea). What I didn’t realise was that I had also photographed a shipment of British tanks being unloaded for the Portuguese – and then promptly being loaded onto a Portuguese freighter for the wars in Angola, Mozambique. Of course, the British government were ignorant of this breach of Nato rules – like hell! British newspapers would frequently not appear on the stands if the international press was considered too sensitive or critical. I suppose this is the thread that runs through all of this for me – the manipulation of news. To a great extent the internet has largely demolished barriers in the disemmination of propoganda. But I feel that the world , somehow, no longer really cares about the truth of what is going on. Is it because we no longer feel that we have any control? Do people feel that they CAN influence the world about them and at large? During my brief interlude into a hippy culture we certainly believed we could do something to change the world we live in. Admittedly we played a large part in bringing the war in Vietnam to an early closure. But governments were stronger, and more conniving.

This has got something to do with personal responsibility. I suppose that the hippy thing was about the individual – and experiencing life as an individual – even though for most people it was in a drugged haze. People were genuinely looking for an explanation of the crazy, frightening world they lived in, and realised that, accumulatively, they could be an influence for good. We had no idea how manipulative our governments were – maybe some inkling, but we still had some faith in their integrity. Just look at average Americans today – do they question with ANY real depth the agendas and motives of their politicians? Never mind the Americans – do we? In Britain debate seems to be more informed – but probably with more corruption in politics. Politics today leaves me feeling powerless and afraid. Name three honest politicians? Why is this country entrenched in an immoral and illegal war in Iraq? There are plenty of other dictators in the world who need sorting out – but they do not have oil. It makes me laugh to think of Tony Blair coming into power proclaiming open and honest politics. He is a political opportunist, and a traitor to the principles of a Labour movement.

In my youth politics was very parochial. Local matters predominated – unless men were called away to war to “serve King & Country”. Whatever political model is proposed it has one major flaw – the foibles of human beings, and their wish to have control over their own lives. I read an interesting book some years ago about a guy called Krishnamurti. He was set up and educated to be a great religious leader – but rejected this outright. I suggest that everyone should make an opportunity to read at least some of his thinking. He does not promote religion or world saving philosophies or structures. But he makes some interesting comments on how we might view our lives.

At least life has taught me never to trust politicians or political leaders, to question everything they say with a degree of suspicion. Funnily, they are becoming disempowered as multi-national corporations now call the shots. Religion, again, I now view with even more suspicion. I have given up trying to find answers to questions that will never be found. My Christian upbringing has given me some sort of framework when approaching life – but the answers it provides make no sense any longer. If there is a meaning to life, it will always be beyond our comprehension. Why bother wasting time worrying about questions that will never be answered? Religion does teach us something about caring for our fellow man – but more actively is one of the biggest driving forces in instigating wars. Maybe George Harrison summed it up succinctly before his death. He said “Love each other”. Could we ask for more?

As far as Missile Launchers are concerned… Chris was given a toy missile launcher for Christmas which connects to the PC. I’m not sure how this works, but Irina was charged with returning to Kazakhstan with it in her luggage. Now, in these times of mega-airport security, there was much discussion regarding whether this should go in hand or hold luggage. I must admit to finding this proposition highly amusing – because irina is the most unlikely potential terrorist one could find. I presume this arrived safely, and without causing a major incident , and now is installed an amuses the cat!

As far as the AK47 is concerned – that is another story. I have just been invited to the pub, where undoubtedly we will again put the world to right!

p.s. Chris had a foul cold while they were with us over Christmas. This photo of him on Christmas morning is cruel !! This is what I call extreme “wrapping up”