Number Seven Boat Trips Bristol | Touching base with Blackbeard, this Easter
It be a month since my last interference. I start this diatribe in a similar manner to a confession, because have just been through Holy week, not because I actually wish to confess to anything. Do not think me insincere when I say that I love Holy week. It’s true. I’m still waiting for my own resurrection. Though mine would be more appropriately celebrated with cannon fodder, than eggs. So, this is April, and what have we done? We have entered into the spirit of summer by doing what most Brits do; stripping ourselves to the minimum amount of clothing it is considered decent enough to get away with. In some cases, it goes beyond decency. Twas ever thus! The streets in the morning are less filled with the throng of commuters and more the mounting debris of the wastage incurred from the night before. What a time to be a wandering spirit. Is holiday time a period for reflection, or for forward strategical planning? Perhaps it is for neither, or nothing other than enjoying it for what it is; a holiday. All I have is reflection, being dead as I am. By reflection, I mean ‘consideration’ and not that I can see myself in any mirrors. It doesn’t bother me, though. I do not sweat, I do not burn in the sun and I will never be the April fool. So, here’s to that, and here’s looking at you, Bristol.
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Challenge or opportunity? 2019: a forecast by Blackbeard, intercepted and brought to you by the Mystic Cosmica.

No7 Boat Trips ltd have acquired two new skippers this month, so this month’s cross harbour ferry will be operating in much the same manner as our government’s Brexit negotiations; with a great deal of uncertainty, and no guarantee of a soft landing. We will get there eventually, one way or another. I refer now of course, to the ferry operation.  

These things are sent to try us, or so the saying goes. Whether it is the handling of a new boat, the power and influence placed in the hands of our leaders, the patience and restraint we must exercise or the onus put upon us to purchase a red plastic nose. 

Asides from the self-service check out machines advising me to have a nice day, they have been reminding me this month of the impending comic relief. “Bring it on”, I say back to the machine as I shoulder my sack full of bean sprouts and other modern day delicacies. “Bring it on in a big way.”

Of course, I don’t really buy bean sprouts because I am more ghoul now than anything else and have little need of them. Nonetheless, I find myself watching the people of Bristol as they do their bidding; as they hasten from A-B. ‘A’, being a point at which they deliberate over which flavour of soy milk they would like to have on their cornflakes, and ‘B’ being a monitor or screen they station themselves in front of for both work and pleasure, depending on which hour of the day it is.

I wonder if there will be a sense of relief once March has passed, or whether any change to our circumstances will hit us in much the same way as the Millennium bug. I find myself thinking of the Terminator franchise; when judgement day was merely postponed. Is anything going to happen in this instalment, or will it merely spark another sequel?

British summer time is going to happen. To what extent, I cannot say. Certainly however, the clocks will spring forward and the days may begin to feel longer. 2019 is getting underway. Who knows what the comedians will say about it in the Christmas special. Who knows what it will look like in hindsight, but who cares? Let’s look at 2019 as it approaches. Let’s take it in our stride.

I’m no stranger to feeling ambushed by people or events. It was an ambush that cost me my life, but if I saw that deserted ship again, I would still board it. I may try to go better prepared, but I would still see it as an opportunity. That is what we all must do. Take it from me. You might as well.

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