Something quite enjoyable happened today. Wandering by the beach I heard the distant drone of an obviously large helicopter, which, revealed itself to be the Search And Rescue Sea King from Newhaven.

Then I spotted a massive collection of cider bottles bobbing about in the surf, and the penny dropped. It was Mad Max and his buddies. On Monday they had been talking about building a raft from cider bottles and floating across to France.

And this was obviously the result: a £10,000 air sea rescue.

Mad Max, I seem to remember, wanted to simply string the bottles together. One-Eyed Jake had insisted that string would just come apart and that some kind of external webbing was in order. It looked to me as if Mad Max had had the final say, though, judging by the distance the raft had made it out to sea. « Mad Max's notes (click to enlarge)

400 yards.

(Unless of course this was their return leg, which I somehow doubt).

I watched the rescue unfold for half an hour, then got bored and came back here. I'm toying with the idea of trying some of the grass Tim-Tom gave me. Then again, maybe not.

(It smells sort of a bit like stale cheese: cheddar or something).

more tomorrow
Duncan

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