THE Friends of Brixham Library lady, Jenny Harriman, has organised an event at the Breakwater Bistro for October 4 sounds both educational and entertaining.
It begins with a talk by Sophie Pierce and Matt Newbury, to be followed by a slap-up meal and music.
Apparently the talk concerns 'wild swimming'.
Unfortunately, because getting wet was never top of my recreational activities, I don't have a clue about the subject… but the meal, followed by the talented local entertainer, Maggie Duffy, sounds good.
The talk starts at 6.30pm and the meal, plus musical entertainment will begin at 7pm.
The money raised will go towards library improvements and tickets can be obtained either at the Breakwater Bistro or the Brixham library.
Sounds like a fun evening. Pity I'm afraid of the water.
STILL on the subject of the wet stuff, following the great success of Jim Portus' (pictutred) team with Brixham's Fishstock, which raised much-needed funds for the Overgang Fishermen's Mission, the 'mature lads' from Brixham's Male Voice Choir are holding a concert at St Andrew's Church in Paignton, this coming Saturday at 7.30pm.
Likewise, the funds raised will be in aid of said Fishermen's Mission, and the 'lads' will be joined by the popular local group, Quay Harmony.
The evening should be a warm musical event in aid of a justifiable cause.
MOST of us have an occasion in our lives when, looking back, we experienced a moment of immense pride.
It's happened to me only a few times.
Once, back in September 1961, on passage from Jersey to Portsmouth, after searching for an hour in rain-filled darkness, my crew plucked six shipwrecked Dutch sailors from the sea, close to the island's Paternosters reef.
Having handed the survivors over to the Jersey lifeboat, we continued on our passage to Portsmouth.
Later, in the silence of the wheelhouse, a surge of great pride suddenly filled my mind, recalling how after a full day's work, my crew had scrambled quickly from their bunks to take part in the search and rescue.
On Saturday, September 7, I experienced another such moment.
For several months the people of Torquay's Central Church had put heart and soul into organising a grand concert featuring Plymouth's Military Wives Choir.
More than 600 tickets had been sold and everyone was looking forward to an evening of enjoyable music.
Sadly, as Sod's Law decrees, the Minister of Defence decided that protecting the country came first and ordered several Plymouth-based regiments to be placed on immediate standby.
Consequently, this meant the choir's normal babysitting arrangements sailed out the window and the number of voices attending the Torquay event was reduced to only 20. Oh dear.
The Brixham Male Voice Choir, billed to appear as the guest choir, on hearing the news, turned out in force to support the ladies.
The normal attendance for the 'lads' concerts is about 24 members, but on the evening of September 7, knowing the 'girls' were in trouble, their numbers had soared to 35. Marvellous!
Although slightly 'under-powered' the MWC sang their hearts out and the packed church warmed to their voices.
However, the Brixham lads, singing nine songs, stole the show and everyone went away humming a tune.
Driving home, I couldn't help but feel so proud of the way Ron and the lads had quietly rallied to the aid of the Plymouth ladies.
It was one wonderful evening.
SOMEONE asked me if I'd enjoyed the OCRDA Powerboat Grand Prix that took place on the north side of the Bay off Torquay, between September 13/15.
Simple answer… no!
I didn't even get excited or look out the window.
While the series of races might do a heap of financial good for the harbour's income, the thought of extremely expensive vessels racing at 'mad' speeds around the untroubled waters of Tor Bay does nothing to stir my mature nautical brain.
I'm not really sure why, but right back to my early days at sea, I could never get my mind around boats racing flat out against each other.
It was probably something to do with the quiet philosophy that boats are feminine by nature and, like ladies, they shouldn't be rushed or raced.
But to those who enjoy such things, good luck.