Forgive Me Father DAVID
Flamborough Head

Flamborough Head

David watched Flamborough Head, the Yorkshire coast of England, between the Filey and Bridlington bays of the North Sea. A chalk headland, with sheer white cliffs. The cliff top displaying two beautifully standing lighthouse towers, the oldest dating from 1669 and Flamborough Head Lighthouse built in 1806. The older lighthouse was designated a Grade II listed building in 1952 and is now recorded in the National Heritage List for England. The cliffs provide nesting sites for many thousands of seabirds, and are of international significance for their geology. The headland exhibits a complete sequence of Chalk Group, North Sea Basin strata, dated from 100 to 70 million years ago.

David slid past as he sailed around the coast, the chart said he should replace the lighthouse anytime soon.

David was partly tanned from his time spent by the sea. What David was not used too was sailing in the brilliant sunshine He had found this part of the country alright and was now looking for an entrance through Bridlington Bay, precise navigation was essential if he were to avoid swimming. He picked up his Admiralty issued 7x50′s and once again scanned the shore line only this time he had the light house, it was flashing 3 times in ten seconds. He walked to the binnacle and took a bearing with the azimuth ring 225 degrees, he picked up the parallel roller rule and a soft pencil and drew a line on the chart from the yacht, the Heavenly Goddess, he was delivering for a wealthy friend to the light house.

He picked up the 7x50′s again and stared at the light house and swung the glasses to the left of the light house and there before him he saw it. He walked back to the binnacle and took another bearing 195 degrees. He walked back to the chart picked up the pencil and the ruler and drew another line on the chart, another hour and he should be outside the entrance to the small bay he was aiming for.

David was looking at a large super tanker through the small V in the azimuth ring, he checked the bearing and made a note in the log, ten minutes later he took another bearing and it was clear she was crossing his bow and they would easily pass astern of her. His practiced eye had already worked that out but he liked to be careful. He had wanted a drink and so picked up his tea and took a swallow. Soon he were off the entrance and so he took his final bearings on the light and the tower and he moved the wheel over to starboard and the yacht came around its twin engines just gently purring on half speed the yacht was doing of 12 knots. David looked towards the coast and saw lots of brightly moving objects in the water coming towards him very fast, he picked up a pair of the ships 10x50′s and looked, a thrill of excitement ran through him as he saw a school of Dolphin rushing towards the boat, soon they were running around the yacht so close you could almost touch them, he watched and shrieked with delight as they jumped over each other under the sleek bow of the yacht.

David reached to the Morse engine controls and eased them back the way they came. The yacht approached a long wall jutting out into the harbour, there were already a couple of fishing trawlers secured alongside the wall, he gently eased back on the port control and the port engine stopped with the lever straight up in the air. Now with just one engine on dead slow he slipped in front of the trawler put the wheel to port and slipped towards the wall. Just before he touched, he put the starboard engine into slow astern taking the way of the yacht and kicking the stern into the wall. David threw a rope to a fisherman waiting to take it, he dropped the eye over a bollard and David pulled the other end under the wing of a cleat and took a round turn then held it still.

He had walked, picked up the eye of a rope and with practiced ease threw it to the fisherman waiting to take it, he watched the fisherman drop the eye over a bollard and he hauled in the other end. he slacked it off a little and secured it off to the cleat, he walked forward slacked of the head rope a bit and secured it down. David climbed the rusty ladder onto the jetty and walked forward. He took another rope and threw it up to the fisherman who took the eye up through the middle of the eye of the bow breast rope and dropped it over the bollard this would allow the ropes to be let go in any order.

David secured the spring to another stern cleat and then walked forward throwing the back spring up to fisherman who walked aft and passing it up through the eye of the stern breast rope dropped it over the bollard, David secured it to a cleat, walked back to the bridge and switched off the engines. David had talked the fishermen out of a dozen fish which he brought aboard and ran aft and jumped down onto the diving platform on the stern, he took a fish and waggled it in the water and a dolphin swan up to the platform and stood on its tail clacking away. He held out the fish and the dolphin took it from his hand. As they came in the dolphins sent waves of water over the diving platform which David was now sitting on so he could feed a dolphin and stroke it at the same time,

David though was like a small child. He waited until the fish had gone and the dolphins were heading out to meet a trawler coming home and as he stood up and climbed onto the deck he turned and walked into the cabin. David fancied dinning ashore tonight and so ran through the cabin to replace something to wear.

There was a knock on the door and a customs officer poked his head in ″Mind if I come aboard skipper?″ ″Not at all would you like a drink? Replied David. The officer settled for a small whisky , ″I’m Markus″ he introduced himself. David opened the drinks cabinet and removed a bottle of Scotch and two glasses, setting them on the table pouring two very large measures into them pushing one to the Customs officer. ″Take a pew″ as David sat, ″I have nothing to declare, just doing a bit of coast hopping. Another 293 miles should see me home″ said David. ″Not your yacht then?″ asked the officer. ″No, just a delivery driver. Got to get to her to the bay here, leave her there and then home″. Where’s home? Asked the officer, ″Portsmouth when I get there.

I saw this advertised and applied for it, couldn’t believe I got the job, well it’s actually voluntary, I like to help out where I can″ explained David. ″No need to do more than check your log then I’ll leave you to it″. David asked if there was any where to get a good meal. Well the best foods at the Fisherman’s Inn about half a mile walk, go to the end of the jetty turn right and keep walking you can’t miss it explained the officer. David said thanks. After two more scotches both as big as the first he stood up and shakily climbed ashore without ever checking the chart or the log.

David had a very quick shower and dressed in grey flannels and an open necked red shirt. As he walked, it seemed natural and felt like home from home. He walked to the Inn, his first thought was it should have been more properly called the Pirates Lair. The walls were adorned with pictures of all the famous pirates Captain’s Teach, Mary Kelly, Captain Morgan as a pirate and later in the uniform of a Rear Admiral, when he was employed by the navy to hunt down all his old friends, and a dozen or so he did not recognise.

On brackets around the room lay an assortment of cutlasses swords pistols and one old brass cannon. The rest of the walls were adorned with a few trawlers, a couple of ancient bearded fishermen and fishing nets and other odds and ends needed to catch fish. He went to the bar and ordered a bottle of the local wine, and a meal from a chalked menu behind the bar. He took the bottle and glass to a table and sat in some wheel back Windsor chair to wait for the long needed food. David was not a big drinker and had learnt early, you drink your own and smoke your own, that way you are not trying to keep up with the heaviest smokers and drinkers. After the meal David made his way back to the Heavenly Goddess. Once aboard he poured one more glass of wine, he was now in the mood for fucking