intrepidjane

[intrepidjane]

WILLY - THE SEA-GOING CAT

The beloved blue Siamese kitten that came into our lives, was a soft silvery blue colour which reminded us of the beautiful colour and texture of the Pussy Willow tree! We decided that Pussy Willow would be his name but, of course, it very soon became shortened to Willie"!

Willie and the sheltie "Meggie" we had at the time, became great friends and would take it in turns to chase one another around the house. When they were chasing one another upstairs above our heads, the thudding sounded like a herd of baby elephants rampaging!

Both animals cruised with us each summer. Willie would amuse himself down on the docks checking everything out as cats do. We had to attached his name and boat name to his collar as he so frequently explored other boats, and ships, and we were afraid they would leave the dock with him still on board!

If he ran into another cat on a dock there would be an amazing chase between the two of them with Willie jumping aboard just in time and the other local cat left hissing at him through a port hole. He never missed a beat, always knowing which boat was his, even if two or three boats looked somewhat identical lying along the dock.

We were having dinner on board a friends' boat one evening docked next to our boat, when I looked out to see Willie at our boat's stern with two paws placed strategically over the side! I was so shocked and yelled out "Willie, no". He froze and retreated. Chris and I rushed back to the boat, picked him up and

dipped his four paws in the water. We had suddenly realized that he'd only ever seen water in his water bowl!

He did manage to fall off the boat twice anyway and he was lucky both times. We heard the splash the first time and he was quickly retrieved with a salmon net being drawn up against the hull of the boat. He then made a dash for our cabin diving under our duvet and had to be dragged out to avoid swamping it. Poor drowned rat spent a lot of time licking off the salt!

The second time he fell off, he miscalculated the distance between our boat and our friends' boat rafted to us. Friend Garry called out as he saw Willie fly through the air and land in the water. Another haul out with the salmon net! This time I put him in the sink, rinsed him off with warm water while Chris stood by waiting with dry towels! No wet and salty duvet this time!

We spent a lot of time Spot Prawning in BC and Alaska. Willie simply adored Spot Prawns! I always tried to time the cooking while he was safely under the duvet! But it wasn't long before he could smell that lovely aroma right through the feathers!

I had to divide the cooked beheaded prawns, the bowl of shelled meat and the bowl of shells, and frequently give him a cooked prawn away from the work in progress in order to fend him off the meat meant for us!

Photo not available 😢

Willy reclining on the bridge of “Up Spirits” with Chris

He hated bad weather as much as we did! It must have been terrifying when doors slammed, dishes crashed to the floor and the boat heeled over at alarming angles. However could a cat figure out what was going on?! Bad weather happened pretty often!! Sometimes he slunk away to hide, other times he wrapped himself around my neck!

Willie would go on walks with us in the evenings. We never had to worry that he would run away and get lost. Crossing into Alaska each time we went, we had to declare he was on board but customs just assumed he wouldn't disembark! He was with us for 14 years and many of those with us on the boat and was such wonderful company. Eventually he became very ill and we had to say goodbye to him. He was our last cat and we missed him for a very long time. However, we have such loving memories of him and the special place he lived in our hearts.

Jane Barratt

July 2019

[intrepidjane]

Small Beginnings

In which mum writes of the day motherhood became real.

Small Beginnings

I'm riding a bus into London this morning on my way to the office reading a book. What's this? A feeling of butterflies? Why am I feeling butterflies? I'm not excited with the prospect of another work day. Wait a minute, could this be? Are these little flutterings the first few movements of my baby making herself felt? Now I'm desperately excited! It must be! Nobody's told me how she would first make her actual presence known. No ultra sounds to view first baby photographs. My interest in my hitherto extremely interesting book totally wanes. I can't wait to get to the office to phone my husband. No cell phones! Can't wait till tonight when I get home. Hurry up bus! I reach the office. Excited call to my husband! Excited voice back!

This amazing miracle is what every parent is part of. That everything in LIFE is part of. The wonder of this tiny child that's growing inside me. It's hard to put this awareness to one side and concentrate on what else is important for right now. Every day brings the thoughts of what is happening to the development of this child. Every stage is another miracle. The excitement builds with each passing month. Life will never be the same. The knowledge that I will always be this child's mother. Love her, nurture her, comfort her and help her grow up to be an adult. The responsibility is huge and will be challenging I know. But I am so ready for this little life to enter mine, and for her to be part of my future for the rest of my own life.

Jane Barratt

Dads’s thank you note to my mum:

Life's scroll unfurls an inch or two

As child becomes a mother

The hand that held a Father's hand

Holds the hand of yet another

The names and times that went before

Are mostly hid from view

And few forebears are with us now

To greet the stranger new

But earlier times have made their mark

And written on the Scroll

Their thoughts and deeds, accomplishments

Will inspire this child's soul

The stranger's name will come to mean

Much to all those here,

A few years hence, the stranger's pen

Will make its writing clear

Our hopes are with this little one

Behold this little jewel

And so it goes as Life moves on

Rejoice in its Renewal!

Chris Barratt

[intrepidjane]

Welcome to my mum’s memoir blog!

The intrepid adventurer Jane has had so many different lives and experiences (across so many decades and continents) and has SO many stories to tell, it would be a shame not to share them. And to keep them to myself seems selfish, or to be endlessly forwarding pdf copies by email seems a bit cumbersome, so here is my first attempt at bringing her stories to you, for you to enjoy at your leisure.

So without further delay, here is her very first story: a piece of family lore, about a reindeer and a journey.

Let us begin. Jane writes:

“It’s winter in the land of the midnight sun, Norway, about the year of 1844. My family is travelling south. Away, away from the cold biting wind of the northern town of Hammerfest, 300 miles above the Arctic Circle. The temperature is -25 C. They are on their way south by sleigh to make a new home in Stokke, near Larvik. The distance of the journey will be about 850 miles.

The sleigh is drawn by reindeer. Despite the intense cold, they are built for this weather. Their noses warm up air before it reaches their lungs. Their bodies are covered in warm fur, including under their hooves. Their hooves are sharp, so they can cut through the ice to find lichen for food. Now, in their traces hauling the sleigh, the going is tough. The snow is deep and dense, and it’s very hard to see through the heavy flakes, despite the lanterns held aloft.

Who knows why my family would travel in such a vicious winter by day and night, and so far. My great grandmother whose name has been lost in time, is dressed in furs from head to foot and is covered by still more, as is the rest of the family tucked in the sleigh beside her. She has a little dog she could not bear to leave behind. The little nameless dog cuddles up close to her on her lap and together they try to keep one another warm. The night becomes still colder, the air is frozen too. The snow is driving, hard, stinging. It hangs on the reindeer’s backs in little rivulets of icicles. They can hear the howling of wolves far off. The sound is chilling as they know packs can attack travelling sleighs. My great grandmother cuddles closer to the dog. They are both still very cold, so she moves the little dog to her back to keep them both warmer. In this way they spend the journey changing positions with each other. They are keeping one another alive.”

Jane Barratt, nee Maclagan (granddaughter of Charlotte Melsom whose mother, Charlotte Marie Melsom made this journey as a little girl of about 7 years old, by reindeer in about 1844)