Riding on the Balmoral

The crew of the steamship Balmoral, which offers trips aboard along the coast here during the summer, are notorious for their cowardice and refusal to put to sea in even the slightest swell. However this year they are also inept, in the extreme. We went to Watchet to join the ship for a cruise round Porlock Bay, and the sea was like a millpond without a ripple or breeze of any sort so even that craven crew could not balk at sailing. Well, they may have balked, but they could not justify refusing to sail, is what I mean. Eager passengers thronged the quayside and the Town Crier arrived in his finery to greet the ship as she (it, actually; only sailors are permitted to refer to ships as 'She', sailors and the pompous or people pretending to be posh) arrived from Wales on the other side of the Severn Sea.

Town Crier speaking to his admirers.

Boat coming in to view round end of quay. Note extreme calmness of waters.

Once it was in the harbour the boat began to perform strange manouevres. It tried to turn round, then stopped half way through and began smashing the pointy end repeatedly into the side of the quay. Then it backed off, as if it was about to have one last try at running at the quay and hoping to break right through and back out into the open sea.

HMSS Balmoral smashing repeatedly into Watchet quay 

Watchet urchins running for cover.

However this is not the way of that crew. They don't much care for life on the open sea. They manouevred on, gave up trying to turn round, and eventually managed to get the boat lined up more or less along the quay. The terrified Welsh passengers disembarked and hastened to safety on dry land, some crossing themselves and some kneeling to kiss the tarmac or perform other, more exotic (Welsh), rituals associated with thanksgiving and deliverance from peril - and all resolving to return to Penarth (where they had come from) by road. 

Shocked passengers vowing never to set sail again from their Welsh fastnesses.

We the daredevil English on the other hand bravely went aboard, the actual sailing of this ship being such a rare occurrence that it was not an opportunity we were prepared to miss, and our fearless race being always keen to look danger in the face and to dismiss it with careless glee. (The crew are not English - not one of them.) 

Brave English queueing up to get on board.

Departure was undertaken in haste, as the tide was not going to be in far enough for long on this treacherous coast where the tidal reach is huge. 

Town Crier waving the boat off.

Due to the bungling crew's time-consuming attempts to make landfall, our advertised 1 and a half-hour cruise was curtailed to a mere 35 mins so we had to make the most of it. The loudspeaker told us we were going as far as the 'Famous Dunster Beach'. This was the first anyone had heard of Dunster Beach being famous. They were just trying to make it sound as if we'd had a meaningful trip. Almost immediately we turned round, and went back to Watchet for another exhilarating attack on the shoreline.

Heading straight back to Watchet without even reaching Porlock Bay.

At Watchet all the town was there on the harbourside to watch our return. I went to stand near the bridge to hear the captain's efforts to moor up in the light of the limited time available, and I must say I was impressed by the calm way he tried everything he could think of to get the boat alongside the quay. I would have freaked out and had a meltdown. Resignedly he would say "Well let's try so-and-so" and the crew would obey. During the docking we backed right out of the harbour to the astonishment and concern of the onlookers, to try coming in again at a different angle. It was marvellous. Well worth the full price we had to pay despite only getting 35 mins instead of 90. They managed to get us all off the ship just in time before the tide could strand them, and then they went off, most likely never to return to the scene.