text:
Durban to Cape Town
Where Next?
Bob Williams
Mon 10 Mar 2003 10:31
The Durban Boat Harbour is full of strange people. I fit right in.
The first new people I got to know were Rory and Sam, my neighbours, their
boat Sunset berthed next to mine. Married, in their fifties, they had sold their
game park, invested in some properties, bought a boat and now wanted to sail to
the Mediterranean for a pleasure cruise. They had no previous sailing experience
and had never owned a boat before. They were the most normal couple I was to
meet here. They were practicing Christians and I enjoyed some interesting
metaphysical discussions with Rory. At one point he asked me whether he sounded
arrogant in his views as he had noticed that I had switched off during one of
our discussions and admitted that he sometimes had this effect on people which
worried him. He asked me to be brutally honest. I was not particularly aware
that my attention had strayed, I looked at Rory, considered the questions and
realised what had happened. Brutally honest? Isn't this the only way friends
communicate, well maybe not brutally but always honestly. I explained that it
was he who had glazed over when he had rattled off his Christian dogma and that
I think the problem was not arrogance, that it wasn't me or anyone else he was
trying to convince of his beliefs, but rather himself. I think his faith is
troubled. I explained my own point of view that while I try to lead a Christian
life I do not think that Christians have a monopoly on the path to God or
whatever it is we all seek, no matter what the Bible or organised religion has
to say on the matter. Does God exist, buggered if I know and I am not even sure
whether it is important. What's important is what you do with this life, not the
Other people I met were Issy's neighbours at the far end of the marina,
Norman and Danni. Norman is a South African, also in his fifties, who owns a
nice flash catamaran but has bugger all money left to sail it anywhere. Long
white hair and walrus mustache, he looks a lot like Lee Marvin and has on
occasions been asked for his autograph (isn't Lee Marvin dead?). Danni is his 36
year old Canadian backpacker crew who has been hitch-hiking around Africa for
the last two years and who has even less money than Norman. Danni thinks that
Norman is the Wizard of Oz and she is Dorothy. Maybe she's right. Each morning
Norman would tell Danni jokes and her laughter would roll across the marina, a
tidal wave sweeping all before it. Whenever she entered a room she would
announce her arrival with her loud voice and if that wasn't enough would laugh
loudly at a piece of trivia to make sure everyone knew she was there. One time
she came into the Royal Natal Yacht Club and sat at a table where I was seated,
she had just returned from Mozambique, where she had gone so that she could
re-enter South Africa and renew her visa. As usual she laughed loud, I could not
resist shouting across the room, "Just in case anyone hadn't noticed, Danni's
back." Often I thought her laugh insincere and I found myself attracted to her,
thinking this person needs to acknowledge some sadness she has not dealt with.
And I ask myself what sadness have I to deal with?
Another Rory lived on a flash monohull, a "Fast 40". He is a successful
business man, clean shaven, well groomed, handsome, in his early fifties,
married three times to two women … and divorced three times. He maintains his
first ex-wife, who is a near vegetable after an automobile accident, and now
wants to marry his second wife for a second time. I asked him whether he could
perhaps see a pattern in his relationships, he raised a thoughtful eyebrow,
"And why will your second marriage to your second wife work this time?"
"Because the problem is her children and they will have all moved out
"Mmmm," I say noncommittally, unconvinced. Rory likes women and is very
confident. I witnessed him flirting with a petite, pretty young Filipino woman,
married to a yachtie I never got to meet. His forwardness amazed me and Suzy's
enjoyment of the brazen comments amazed me even more, not that his 'charm'
worked on all women. Rory had some bad burns healing on his forearm and at one
time made the mistake of grabbing Danni's arse, she reacted with an up-thrust
knee which managed to connect with his burnt arm, not on purpose, but which
nonetheless had him rolling in agony. Now Danni calls him "Groper Rory", which
at least distinguishes him from Sam's gentleman Rory, though Danni saw gentleman
Rory's manners as sexist rather than gentlemanly. A bit harsh I thought but not
entirely without substance. It is absolutely impossible to please
Groper Rory was very impressed with my achievement of sailing across the
Indian Ocean single handed and thought I must be at peace with myself. He says
he is at peace with himself and I believe him. I had to confess that I am far
from achieving this exalted state of grace myself but I am certainly seeking it.
Rather I feel I have become the ancient mariner, and while I am no grey beard
loon grabbing wedding guests and fixing them with my glittering eye, it seems I
am destined to explain the tale of my reluctant single handing many times over,
I am not hypocrite enough to have people think of my feats other than as they
are, driven by a dubious necessity. On the other hand no one really wants to
hear endlessly about my tale of woe, certainly I am getting thoroughly fed up
with it and am coming to the conclusion that I shall let people think what they
like, knowing in my own mind how difficult it is to truly know the difference
between an act of courage and cowardice.
Henry is in his thirties, a friend of Groper Rory, he says he is divorced
with one child, but I have no idea how much of what Henry says is truth or
fiction, the only conclusion I could come to was that he is seriously disturbed.
He swung in from somewhere some months ago and works as a maintainer for one of
the local sailing schools. He wears a perpetual scowl on his face, complains
bitterly about almost anything, especially about how little he is appreciated by
his employer, but he assures me that he is in fact very happy, its just that he
doesn't feel like smiling. One evening he tells me of his time as a ranger in a
game park where he was involved in firefights with poachers. Later in his life
he worked for a child protection agency. He relates a story of breaking into an
apartment where they find a small child with cigarette burns and other injuries.
The child grabs Henry's neck tightly and refuses to let go. Henry is as angry as
hell, he goes up to the man in the house and puts a pistol in his mouth, and
says, "Just give me an excuse … Please…. give me an excuse!". Gentleman Rory is
at our table listening to this story, he decides it is time to leave. Of course
Henry no longer works for this agency. I share a few more beers with Henry that
evening; I sense that this man needs to talk.
Oscar is qualified as a cost accountant (he had to explain to me what this
was exactly) but he reckons the new "affirmative action" laws had put him out of
a job, so he had taken up another passion, carpentry. He could often be seen
wandering around the marina looking for business. He felt his situation was
unjust but was reconciled to it as pay back for the years of apartheid. He tells
me of a woman to whom he has lent a considerable sum of money. He is annoyed
that she has taken so long paying it back and shows him little gratitude. I ask
him is he in love with her. He hesitates and avoids answering me. Eventually he
smiles sheepishly and says yes, he is. A few days later I see him, he looks
miserable and while polite is distant. I suspect his advances were unsuccessful.
I think of Issy's advice, "Landing a girl is like catching a fish, you have to
put out some bait, get a bite, take your time, play with them, take in the
slack, gently, easy does it, until you pull them all the way in." What do you do
then, flop them on deck, pour some rum in their gills and bash them over the
head with a mallet? God I hate playing these silly games. Growing up is hard to
do, especially at 45.
Julie and Brian - Julie definitely comes first in this introduction, Julie
is in her late forties, overweight, good natured, doesn't mind a drink, very
funny, and could she spin a yarn or two. Back in England she is a driving
instructor and if you were ever a nervous student driver she would be the best
instructor you could ever pray to meet. Brian, Julie's husband, must be in his
sixties, a short slightly built Englishman of pleasant and humorous demeanor, a
retired master mariner who does not lack an ounce of courage as further events
will reveal. They own a luxurious 50 foot sloop, Cleo, which Brian freely admits
is the wrong boat as it is just way too big for them to manage.
Peter and Sam are friends of Julie and Brian and were visiting them from
England. Peter, a fireman in his forties, is of solid, almost portly build with
fair hair over a round pink face. Sam, early forties, nicely built, ample bosom
with cleavage and other assets displayed to best advantage and, as best I could
work out, another professional nutcase.
Then there's me, the reluctant Australian single hander, recently split up
from his wife of 20 years, co-dependent, suffering depression, undergoing a
major mid-life crisis and generally feeling like shit. Why am I here, what's it
all about, is there any point, what am I going to do next? (Maybe the question
about God is important.)
Oh, and of course my Spanish single hander friend, Issy. Short, a little
rotund, a good drinker and a heart of gold. He would awake each morning and his
first order of the day, no earlier than 9 O'clock, would be to walk across to
Norman's boat, shouting "Neighbor, how are you today?" imploring Danni to shut
up, and then enjoy breakfast with them for the rest of the morning.
A few other minor characters will be introduced as needed though I hasten
to add that minor bit parts can steal the show if one is not careful.
We all live within the confines of the marina, a railway track separates us
from the reality of Durban and a gang of blacks patrol the line at night,
sleeping at the crossing by day, apparently ready to stick a knife in you for a
few miserable Rands. 'Groper' Rory has suffered five stab wounds in two separate
attacks. Though neither of the attacks occurred on the Durban tracks they are
typical of the stories one hears. The first attack resulted in his admission
into intensive care while the second 'only' required emergency treatment. Some
nights I hear several gunshots, and I know what a gunshot sounds like.
Initially we all get along fine, but soon some cracks appear.
My first few weeks were mainly devoted to getting more repairs done to the
boat. In addition to the damage my jib had suffered from the short gale offshore
from Durban, the mainsail needed attention after several thousand ocean miles,
the fridge had not worked since Mauritius (I was thoroughly fed up with warm
beer and no milk), my 24 volt to 12 volt converter had decided to go up in a
puff of smoke, literally, and I had also decided it was time to have something
more permanent done about the temporary repairs I had made to the windvane over
two years ago. The result was a further dent to my depleted funds but the
exchange rate was good and I thought all the repairs were essential either to my
safety or sanity, which I reckon amounts to about the same thing.
Despite these practical matters it would have been downright boorish not to
see a bit of Africa and to this end I started questioning some of the locals
about the best way to see the sights. I envied Danni her courage in hitch hiking
around Africa, a most cost effective means of travel, but in the end decided
that while she might get away with it I would probably not. I was later to
discover that Danni had learned much of her hitch hiking skills while running
away from home at the age of 14 and undoubtedly the several months she spent in
reform school taught her quite a few survival skills, unlike the relatively
sheltered life I have thus far lived. While discussing means of seeing Africa
with 'Groper' Rory he realised that he had not been to a game park in over
thirteen years so he decided we should go together that very weekend. He made
the necessary bookings and provided the car. All I had to do was share the
costs. Too easy.
We left early Friday morning and five hours later were in the Hluhluwe
(pronounced shesh-loo-ee) game park. By Australian standards the area is
relatively small but the amount of life the area holds is truly amazing. We saw
the common animals here - buffalo, impala, rhinoceros, wildebeest, baboons, and
giraffe. The rhinos were particularly fascinating, we found them mainly by
waterholes lounging around in the mud, mostly lone males but also the occasional
family group of male, female and infant. Despite their size and dangerous
appearance, they are in fact timid creatures. They have poor eyesight but good
hearing and an excellent sense of smell. When we encountered the single rhinos
Rory in an act of male machismo would get out of the car and make like a wild
man to see if he could get them to run away. It was funny watching the rhinos
look at him, trying to work out whether he was a threat, then invariable take
off in retreat, though on one occasion a rhino started to make a charge for us
and it was even funnier to watch Rory turn tail and run for the car. That night
we stayed in the lodge, in a hotel style room and dined at the restaurant. Very
Next morning we awoke for an early start to make the most of the day. Mist
shrouded the roadways as we headed off for the day's sightings, quickly burning
off as the sun rose. We saw more of the same (how quickly we become habituated),
played some more with the rhinos but our quarry, lion and elephant, eluded us.
As we drove around the maze of roads not one was to be seen. Elephant territory
is easy to identify as they are messy eaters, simply demolishing the bush as
they pass through it, leaving open space and broken trees behind them,
undoubtedly maintaining the ecosystem as it is meant to be. We knew we were in
the right area but were to be frustrated again. However we were rewarded with a
leopard sighting which had Rory in a fit and jumping on his cell phone to tell
his Mum. I had no idea what the fuss was about and Rory had to explain that
leopard sightings are extremely rare. In fact later when we told some rangers
about our sighting they were quite skeptical thinking we must have seen cheetahs
which are much more common, but even I can tell the difference between a leopard
and a cheetah. Apparently park staff can go for years without sighting one of
these elusive cats.
That night we stayed in a camp area in a very nice tent complex, enjoying a
few beers and a braai for dinner (a braai is South African for barbecue). The
hyenas crooned and hiccoughed at the full moon through the night while we hid
under our mosquito nets trying to ignore the critter's pesky buzzing.
Again we started early on our third and final day in the park, we were
determined to track down some elephant. We scouted out a corner we had not yet
been to and were encouraged by a passing ranger who advised us that while he had
not seen any there was definitely plenty of evidence of recent elephant activity
"You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes," he commented, "but it is amazing
how a four meter giant can dissolve into three meters of shrubbery. Oh, and you
can't get through that way, there's a tree across the road, definitely
We therefore took an alternate route but after much driving and despite
careful surveillance we continued unsuccessful in our quest. We were sure they
were near and felt sorely disappointed. We were about to concede defeat and head
towards the park exit when we decided to have one last go and investigate the
tree fall. We soon came to the tree across the road and immediately sighted an
elephant's posterior disappearing into the bushes. Concerned that this was to be
our only sighting we broke a cardinal rule and left the car, heading downwind of
the beast to see if we could get a better sighting and some photos.
Now it is common knowledge that elephant are rather touchy creatures and
can be a little unpredictable (it seems the thing about mice is not without some
justification) and there were even stories of tourists being squashed in their
cars. As we were sneaking up on the elephant it became apparent that we were not
alone and agreed it might be wise to seek cover. I hid behind a small tree which
was about as useful as a matchstick but provided a little moral support while
Rory found a more sizable bush, no more elephant proof but at least it had the
advantage of blocking Rory from view. Some 20 meters away a large bull stood
looking straight at me, ears extended, tusks low, his bulk swaying slowly from
side to side. My heart pounding, I told myself just keep very still. I took a
few photos hoping the shutter noise would not alarm the big fellow, then heard
Rory, "Psst, Bob, psst." I made my way around to his position and he jabbed his
thumb over his shoulder ….. more elephant, a lot more elephant.
"Oh shit! I think we might have stuffed this."
Fortunately we managed to make our way back to the car without being
stomped on and continued to watch these great mammals sway past between car and
fallen tree, only a few meters away. Every now and then one would stop and look
the car over suspiciously, swaying nervously, undoubtedly contemplating whether
it ought to squash us, but fortunately none did so and we are both alive to tell
the tale. We left the park well satisfied with the game we had seen.
Next stop was St Lucia for the water side of the tour, crocodile and
hippopotamus. We caught a tour boat which reminded me of a Disneyland ride but
we got to see what we came for, rounding off our game sighting experience.
Hippos reportedly kill more people than any other animal in Africa, mainly
because people misunderstand their temperament, thinking of them as harmless
water creatures. But male hippos are in fact very territorial and protective
animals, both in and out of the water and if you happen to be in the wrong place
you can get crushed or maybe chomped in half, a feat they occasionally do with
crocodiles which get too close to their aqueous herd.
The other tourist thing I wished to experience was a visit to the
Drakensberg, a grand mountain range, Drakensberg meaning Dragon Mountain. This I
was to achieve courtesy of Gentleman Rory and Sam. We stayed at their house one
night which was on the way to the Drakensberg and headed off early the next
morning. An interesting part of the drive was seeing the homelands where many
black Africans live. Their lifestyle was poor but the passing people seemed
happy, a utility, or bakkie as they are called here, was full of people singing,
smiling, laughing, even dancing within the limited space, with a spontaneity and
unselfconsciousness rarely to be seen among westerners. Children walked along
the roadside playing and laughing as children do most everywhere. I am convinced
that our quest for intensification and accumulation of material wealth is a
complete balls up, leading to dysfunctional nuclear families trapped inside
suburban fences, and many unhappy individuals.
We checked into a very fine hotel early, which gave me time to join a
guided walk in the morning, which can only be described as tamely pleasant. In
the afternoon we hired some horses and, in the company of our guide Julius,
enjoyed an excellent ride through the grass green foothills amongst wildebeast,
zebra and impala. Back at the hotel late that afternoon, beer in hand, I
reclined in a deck chair looking out at a sun setting over magnificent crags,
shafts of silver falling into the green slopes of the valley below, a quiet word
with friends, and a moment of peace for my troubled soul. And in the evening a
restaurant meal followed by a lonely room with all the usual mod cons, even a
bath, which will hopefully satisfy any desire for luxury for some time to
The next day we set off for another part of the mountains
for a hiking experience. We walked to a small waterfall where Rory and I partook
of a bracing dip then headed off for another waterfall higher up. Rather than
backtrack to rejoin the path, Rory suggested a short cut which meant leaving the
trail, supposedly rejoining another track not far off. Well this proved more
arduous than expected, we scaled one short cliff face and Rory, who suffers from
vertigo, declared that we were going to have to find another way back as there
was no way he could get back down the way we had just come. We crossed spurs and
gullies, at times beating our way through thick bracken, but it soon became
evident we were making our way up and out onto an escarpment from which there
could be no way down for many miles, and still we had no idea where our
waterfall was. Like all mountains the area is notorious for sudden mists and
cold nights, we discussed options and concluded there were none. We had to turn
back. It seemed Rory was going to have to confront his cliff. I scouted ahead
looking for the right path, melodramatically handing Rory the chocolate bar I
had in my pocket, in an unstated just in case. But, in fact, as it turned out we
eventually found another way bypassing Rory's cliff and leading back to the
hotel where we had parked the car. Stumbling, smiling, we entered the hotel
lounge room covered in dirt and mud, three Dr Livingstones miraculously emerged
after a century in the jungle, attracting not a few strange looks, but we were
quite past caring what others thought. I took my time over one of the best beers
ever (I've enjoyed some very good beers in South Africa). In all a most
excellent afternoon.
Back at the marina social life dominated the evenings, the Fish Café was
the watering hole of choice, its first floor balcony overlooking my section of
the marina. It was not uncommon to hear Issy calling down to my boat, a wave of
his arm beckoning me to join him, and oft times Norman as well, more an order
than a request, an order I always felt pleased to obey. In the bar my adventurer
stories were rightly treated with scorn, my foolhardy behavior being in no way
admired. I felt not a little demoralized.
One evening several of us went out to an Indian restaurant somewhere in
town. The crowd included Issy, Norman, Peter and Sam, and several others who I
had not met before and will never meet again. I was sitting next to Sam and
Peter, conversing with Peter. Peter wishing to move on considerately asks Sam to
talk to me for a while. We start discussing body language, nothing to do with
cleavages I should add. Then a strange thing happened. Sam was staring at me and
I told her, within the context of our discussion, that I felt uncomfortable with
this. A plate of vegetables was being passed around which I give to Peter. Sam
looks at me angrily and asks what was I doing feeding Peter his vegetables. I am
dumbfounded, mouth agape, speechless, wondering what she is on about. Surely one
would just laugh at such pettiness but my nerves were raw, I have never liked
conflict and I was certainly not in the mood for handling it that night. Upset,
I got up, left the table and walked outside. Contemplating the situation I
decided I wanted nothing more to do with the rest of the evening which I sensed
could only get worse. I went back inside, told Sam I was sorry if I had upset
her and that I had no intention of doing so. I put some money on the table and
left to catch a taxi back to the marina. I tossed and turned that night, trying
to sleep, fretting about what on earth was going on in my life.
The next morning I called on Issy to see what had happened after my
departure and to determine my social standing after Sam's outburst. Issy
welcomes me on board and says, "Bob, Bob! Last night – unbelievable,
unbelievable!" Of course I, in my egocentricity, assume its all about me, but
no, Issy explains, "Sam, she is crazy." He was in a taxi with Peter and Sam,
Peter is in front and he is in the back with Sam. Sam starts touching his thigh.
Issy is confused as to what is going on and decides to do nothing, ignoring
Sam's advances. They arrive at the marina and are walking down the dock when Sam
says to Issy, "You know what you did in the taxi, you were touching me up."
Peter, no questions asked, winds up a fist and launches himself at Issy. Issy
stands dumbfounded, motionless. But little old Brian is not so stricken and
courageously throws himself in front of Peter, he intercepts the big man and
they fall struggling to the dock. Eventually a relative state of calm is
restored and all retire to their respective boats and bunks. All of which of
course tended to overshadow my strange little drama. Issy tells me that Julie
visited him that morning and told him not to worry as this sort of thing has
happened with Peter and Sam before. Small consolation and Issy and I are
relieved to hear that Peter and Sam are leaving for Mozambique the next day.
That, we hope, will be the end of that.
That night Issy and I are at the Point Yacht Club bar discussing the events
of the previous evening over a beer. A guy named Barry is standing next to us.
Barry is short, beer gutted, and lives on a 36 foot motor boat. The marina
gossip has it that Barry and his new wife had set sail for Mozambique, got
clobbered by bad weather a short distance from the harbour and were forced to
return. On getting alongside Barry's wife immediately signs off from the boat
and Barry's life. This is Barry's third divorce. He is now having a fire sale of
all the boats equipment and quips that the next woman he sees he is going to
just give her a house as it will save a lot of messing around and heartache.
Barry mentions that he knows Peter and I unwisely recount the previous evening's
events, but Barry interrupts me, tells me he is Peter's friend, that he does not
believe me and I had best stop right there. I apologise and we change the
Issy is lucky, a few days later he is ready to leave and he moves on, the
next time I meet him will be in Cape Town.
As if I have not stuffed enough things up in my life of late, just to add a
bit more spice a familiar boat pulls in, Feisty Lady, with skipper Jim of
Mauritian fame. Now Jim had helped me out in Mauritius when I was feeling very
vulnerable and at an all time emotional low and I shall always remember him with
a grateful heart. But here it seems I made another mistake (an opportunity to
learn what?). I knew he had some problems of his own from the discussions I had
shared with his ex-crew Sarah, and I thought perhaps I had a tiny if dimly
understood insight into some of his issues. Consequently I had written him a
letter revealing some rather personal 'discoveries' I had made about myself
thinking that they might help unblock a level of consciousness for him. WRONG! I
felt rather awkward when I saw him on the marina and he was clearly avoiding me.
I saw him one night sitting in the Royal Natal Yacht Club, "Hello Jim." Jim's
reply, "I don't want to know you, you're not my type", which is the last word
either of us has ever said to each other. Now whenever I walk past him he
studiously avoids eye contact with me. I think I am still right about Jim - he
doesn't want to know me for that part of himself which he cannot accept.
My next fracas develops when Peter and Sam return from Mozambique. I am
walking past Barry's boat, I cannot avoid it as it is between my boat and the
shore. I say hello, Peter returns a polite hello then after a pause says, "I
just remembered, I'm not talking to you, you had best keep away from me." Now
what! I ask him what is he talking about, he unenlightingly says, "You know.
Just stay out of my way." I shrug my shoulders, walk off, determined not to be
upset with such childishness.
A day later I have to walk past Peter again, he is standing on the marina,
and he makes to push me into the water. I ask him what have I done.
He says, "You know."
I reply, "No I don't."
"You said my wife touched you up."
"What! I never said any such thing."
"You said my wife touched you and Issy up."
"That's a lie."
Barry chips in, "You calling me a liar?"
"You told me at the bar the other night."
A dull light is starting to shine in my thick skull. "No, I said something
similar happened to me and Issy, but different, Sam didn't touch me up."
Peter is angry, "As if Sam would want to touch up that fat, ugly old
"Look," I say, trying to find a way to defuse the situation, "This is a
misunderstanding, Issy is my friend but I wasn't there so I can't say what
Peter says, "Leave, just leave!"
This seems a really good idea, so I do.
I returned to Sylph, distressed at my stupidity. I am guilty of gossip and
want to somehow ameliorate the damage I may have done. I go back to Barry's boat
with the intention of apologizing but Barry tells me that Peter has gone to
Brian's boat and recommends I stay away from him as he is very angry. I ask him
to pass on my apology to Peter which he agrees to do. Back on board Sylph again,
I am still not satisfied with the situation so I write a letter of apology,
where I can collect and order my thoughts more coherently. I feel Issy was
telling the truth but I cannot say this to Peter. In my letter I admit I have
been guilty of gossip, explain what happened to me at the restaurant, and
acknowledge that I cannot truly know what had happened between Issy and Sam.
With Issy's story and Julie's comments in mind I also ask Peter whether this
sort of incident has happened before. If so, then I suggest that Sam, while
loving Peter, is insecure in his love for her and is possibly behaving so as to
provoke a jealous response from Peter, to which, it seems, he is only too
willing to accede. I also suggest that there might be a history of infidelity in
Sam's family, perhaps Peter's as well. If any of this rings true, I suggest they
seek counseling, admitting that my own marriage had recently broken up and that
it might have been saved if we had both had the courage to seek professional
help. I then put this letter in an envelope and give it to Barry. I ask Barry to
read it and if he thinks it might be helpful at all to pass it on to Peter.
Later that day Barry is much more friendly to me, Peter has flown out that
afternoon, so I do not know the final outcome except that Barry now smiles when
I pass by. I hope and pray some ultimate good might come out of the mess.
And for me, don't gossip, you have no right to reveal other people's
secrets. Which ultimately is all of the above. The question I must ask myself is
would I be willing to let the people who I am writing about read this, if not I
have no right to allow anyone else to read it. Alternatively I ask myself do I
have a responsibility to help people in spite of themselves, what would I want
my friends to do for me. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" or,
as I read more recently, "Do unto others as others would have you do unto them."
At the risk of losing a friend, should I be a friend, or just act like one? An
alcoholic has to want to be helped but if people enable the alcoholic's behavior
it only prolongs his agony. This is a moral dilemma I shall have to feel my way
through for some time to come, undoubtedly losing potential friends and making
some enemies along the way. I struggle but I genuinely want not to suffer or
watch others suffer unnecessarily. How many times do we have to watch the Peter
and Sams, the Bob and Anns fight out an issue where a bit of sensitive
confrontation might help push them forward to greater awareness? Or is life for
each of us meant to unfold without this intervention, undoubtedly poorly
considered confrontation can drive people even deeper into their neuroses. Or is
all this just telling me I have yet to confront and accept something within
Back to the material world, by this stage of affairs most of my repairs had
been completed. The fridge compressor however was proving to be a real hassle.
It had been sent to Johannesburg for an overhaul and when it was eventually
refitted all seemed well except the next day it had once more lost all its
refrigerant and I had to take it off yet again. The young repair guy, John, was
excellent. He was always helpful, polite and reasonably punctual. He worked out
that during the overhaul a thread had been stripped and not fixed properly,
someone had simply tightened the bolt and hoped for the best. In fact I was
lucky the bolt had worked its way loose as quickly as it did otherwise I could
have been a long way down the road before discovering the problem.
Another character in the Durban yachting scene is Tony Herrick who runs a
shop full of charts and books and second hand yachting equipment. I bought a
number of charts and books here, including a book entitled "Families", nothing
to do with boats but perhaps a lot to do with us yachties. It's all about
dysfunctional families and focuses on the symptoms of codependents. Bloody hell,
more pieces to the jig saw of my life and more bloody issues to work through! I
had also read a book on "Male and Female" and, as mentioned in a previous
chapter, a book called, "Intimate Partners, Patterns in Love and Marriage." So
far I had worked out that many of the problems in my marriage were caused by my
own insecurities which I had projected onto Ann, it was I who lacked commitment
and purpose and suffered from depression; "Male and Female" pointed towards an
inappropriate bond between my mother and I, it seems she was a major role model
in my life (not that there is anything intrinsically wrong with this, but it had
caused me to anguish over my sexuality at times), plus throw a few Oedipal
problems in for good measure leading to additional feelings of insecurity. Now
it seems I'm a codependent as well. God! Woody Allen eat your heart out, just
come and see me if you want a few more neurosis to turn into repetitive boring
self-indulgent movies. I really do not need to be alone brooding over all this
stuff. I am still depressed, a psychological hypochondriac, the poor orphan
crying, "Oh woe is me!" How the hell do I dig myself out of this hole?
To avoid what I was beginning to see as an unhealthy isolation for me I had
invited Rory and Sam to crew with me to Cape Town, they had been very supportive
and giving them some offshore experience was to be a pleasure. One evening while
I was in the Royal Natal with Danni and Henry I had off-handedly mentioned that
I had one bunk left and that they could fight it out between them. Of course I
really had no intention of giving it to Henry but it seems you can't be too
direct with women, they are so easily frightened off by us big scary blokes. The
next day Danni comes on board and says she is interested and immediately puts me
on the back foot by asking all sorts of good questions about safety equipment
and the like. She is one confident lady. She asks me if I have any questions of
"Hmm, can you put a reef in?"
"Er, no, I've only sailed cats and you don't generally need to reef cats."
Sounds like bullshit but fair enough, having no experience with cats I
can't comment, and at least I get one point in.
Later that evening I struggle with a couple of untruths I had told Danni
trying to impress her. They are minor. One was about suturing a wound, the other
she had asked me whether I had any ideas about coming on to her. I had just
looked away from her in mock incredulity. But I am trying to come to terms with
just being who I am, it is enough, and that night I feel guilty about my
dishonesty. The next morning I go over to Norman and Danni's boat still rather
distressed. I confess I have only ever helped suture a wound never having
actually done it myself. And as for coming onto Danni I had to confess, yes I am
attracted to her, but I would never push any unwelcome advances on her. She
appreciated my honesty, while I think Norman didn't know what to make of me. He
decided to bury his head in a newspaper while we spoke.
I was now getting close to setting a departure date.
One more interesting lady I should mention before departing Durban is
Hilary. We met one evening in the Royal Natal. We like each other, she is tall
and thin, in her mid forties, a bit butch but very nice. For six months of the
year she lives in Durban in her 32 foot Van De Stadt which she is refurbishing.
The other six months, Europe's summer, she works as a truck driver out of
England, driving a serious rig around the continent. One morning she comes
across to my boat to share a dream she had with me, why I do not know, and she
offhandedly mentions that she has a terminal illness. I am amazed, not because
of her revelation but because the previous night I was thinking about people I
care about and I thought of her, I thought that if anything happened to her I
would like to see her. I told her this, she seemed touched, and told me not to
worry as her illness was under control.
In the end I left Durban in a bit of a rush chasing the weather window and
felt like I did not say goodbye in a very satisfactory way at all. Saying
goodbye to new friends is a painful part of this lifestyle and sometimes I
wonder whether it is worth it, but then if I wasn't out here I wouldn't get to
meet so many interesting people in the first place. One day I will work it
all out and probably settle somewhere but for now it seems I have some dreams to
My trip to Cape Town was pretty uneventful in the end, apart from blowing
out the drifter between Knysna and Simonstown. I have mentioned my drifter
before. It is a great light weather sail but a real handful when the wind picks
up and has to be brought in. An interesting coincidence was that this sail was
made by a previous owner, Murray Swan, many years ago with a QANTAS style
kangaroo on the bunt and in Croatian colours, as one of Murray's long time crew
and friend was a Croatian. Well Danni was born in Croatia and I wanted to show
it off to her. I had the jib poled out one side and the drifter on the other,
wind up the chuff, bowling us along at a very nice 8 knots plus. I knew I
should have handed the sail earlier but old Sylph seemed to be enjoying herself
so I left it. Danni and I were down below when I felt an unusual
vibration. Rory was on watch so I called up to him and asked whether there
was anything the matter. He looked up over the dodger and exclaims, "My
God, the drifter, its disappeared!" Sure enough when I get up on deck
there is no sign of it. After a bit of investigation I worked out that the
halyard block had parted company with the masthead and the whole sail must have
blown forward into the water and then gone under the boat as we ran straight
over the top of it. After a bit of messing around we managed to get it
back onboard, it had suffered some damage towards the head, a blown seam and a
tear but I think not too much work to repair. Just another job to add to
the list.
Danni was a good crew, did what she was asked and was willing to give most
everything a go, apart from lighting the kero stove. Rory and Sam were a
lot greener than I had anticipated, especially Rory who was sick for much of the
trip but they are both very nice people and I enjoyed their company. It
was certainly a change from single handing with the four of us on board.
The boat is only really set up for two so at sea it was two up, two down and in
harbour it was a big shuffle of bags and gear each night and morning to clear
the V berth for Sam and Rory. While our trip was pretty good, I think it
gave Sam and Rory a much better insight into what they were getting themselves
in for and I sensed Rory was starting to entertain a few doubts about his whole
project of sailing to the Med. It seems to me there are many lost souls
out here sailing the ocean blue, looking for something, serenity, peace …..
themselves mainly, just like me, or is it just me projecting myself onto
everyone else.
We stopped at Port Elizabeth for a few days, boy is that a dirty place,
I've still got black crap over the sails which I doubt I'll ever remove
entirely. Here Rory made an observation about my mental state. He noticed
I had a tendency during conversations to go very quiet and sullen for long
periods. He asked me about my sleeping patterns and whether I suffered from
depression. He had worked in the pharmaceutical industry for many years and
based on his knowledge thought I was suffering from endogenous depression. He
recommended I see a doctor and obtain a script for anti-depressants. This I did,
but in the end felt very uncomfortable about it all. I had been trying to
process my condition through my own dream therapy and interaction with other
people, at this stage mainly Rory, Sam and Danni. Danni up to this time had been
very supportive of me and had listened to all sorts of drivel over my past life.
I was desperate to get out of the hole I found myself in and had totally let go
of my pride. In the end, after a good chat with Danni, I decided to stick it out
without the aid of drugs. My goal in setting off on this voyage was to vindicate
the principles of adventure education. Spiritual growth comes about through an
interaction between consciousness and the material world. The answers lie in
living life. So for now the drugs are still in my cupboard.
My favourite memories of this leg were the quiet times I shared with Danni
in Port Elizabeth. While Rory and Sam slept Danni would settle for the night on
the saloon settee and while I sat at another settee we would talk in quiet
whispers. A vulnerable little girl seemed to appear before me. She told me of
her abusive childhood, the fights she had with her mother while protecting her
sister, her father apparently soft and passive. She ran away as soon as she was
able and eventually ended up in reform school where, sadly it seems she was at
her happiest during her childhood. But she graduated with flying colours to
eventually put herself through university and become a successful businesswoman
in the advertising industry. She is fascinated with the idea of influencing
people to do things they do not necessarily want to do. I admired and was
jealous of her rebellious strength. But she had to pay a price, yes she is brash
and confident, but this is also a barrier, behind which she hides a rarely
revealed sensitivity. And now she is a bum travelling around Africa on a vision
quest of her own. But Danni is ultimately strong and will do well, just look out
us softer types who get in her way.
Knysna was lovely in a commercial Popeye sort of way. The harbour mouth was
guarded by rocks and sheer cliffs making for a dramatic and challenging entry.
But the people we met were almost too friendly. They kept on telling us
how everyone comes to Knysna, gets married and never leaves. I imagined we
could have been entering the first chapter of a Steven King novel. This made
Danni real jittery and under the pretext of her wanting to join a delivery trip
to the Caribbean, which never happened, she had us hauling arse out of there
within two days.
We had a slow trip from Knysna to Simonstown with light winds overnight. I
hate motoring and generally am content to drift in these conditions, with which
the crew was also satisfied so I didn't have any mutinies to quell.
In Simonstown Sam and Rory left us as they had business to attend to back
in Jo'burg, also I think there was a little tension between Rory and Danni which
perhaps sped them on their way. It's a shame not all the people we like
can get on with each other, or indeed that all too often we can't even get on
with those we love - "Life" as Issy would say.
We stayed in Simonstown for only one night as Issy was up in Cape Town,
along with Danni's friend Norman who was staying on board with Issy, and we
thought it would be more fun to socialise with Issy before he continued on his
way for the last leg of his solo circumnavigation. Unfortunately I had a
bad case of gastro one evening, and ended up in hospital the next morning on a
drip, I think I drank some bad water. I recovered obviously but have to
admit to being very distressed at the time. Unfortunately this caused a
bit of tension between Issy and Danni. Issy looked after me during this
incident but apparently Danni just chose to sleep without a care in the
Well Issy has left now, Norman is back in Durban, and Danni and I are still
here. My plan for now is to stick around until at least the end of April. I am
doing some much needed maintenance on Sylph and plan on sailing her in the
Classic Regatta here at the Royal Cape Yacht Club over the Easter weekend, this
will help motivate me to get Sylph spruced up a bit. I am keeping a weather eye
open for a bit of employment as funds are somewhat low, not desperate but my
ration of beer coupons is looking very sad. If nothing eventuates I will
probably push off for Brazil in May, a bit late in the season but I am told
delivery skippers do the trip at all times of the year so I am not too


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EMMS Challenger, Tim Cooke shares his experience of this years 89 mile Tour de Lauder challenge, which raised a fantastic £2000 for our work!
The weekend started off with a little trepidation because the trip down to Peebles was quite wet and the weather forecast for the ride was not great.
We awoke to sunshine on the Saturday morning, and we hoped that maybe the rain had passed us by, how foolish! Riding out of Lauder, we were spurred by good crowds lining the route, ringing their cow bells - I could have been riding an alpine stage in the Tour-De-France - and that very quickly became the reality as we climbed out of Lauder towards Stow. Strangely, the cow bells gave way to the sound of bag-pipes as we were piped over the moor - now you don't get that in the French race. The steep descent into Stow reminded us of what was to come in the other direction at the end of the ride.
We continued at a good pace towards Innerleithen and the first rest stop at Traquair Village Hall under gathering storm clouds. The stop was very welcome and we re-fuelled on sugary tea, bananas and cake in the middle of a sudden torrential rain storm. Fortunately, the rain did not last long, and then I was on my way again in sunshine, this time on my own as only a few had opted for the longer route - or maybe I was just at the back of the field! This part of the route was very much off the beaten track, and I started to enjoy the beauty of the Borders climbing in and out of valleys and having to navigate cattle-grids that were often in a bad state of repair. Bouncing over one of the grids caused me to puncture as I approached the Gordon Arms Hotel. Too be honest I was glad of the rest and the enforced delay meant that I was able to meet up with a couple of great blokes Grieg and Andy who had punctured themselves even before getting out of Lauder! We cycled the rest of the tour together (approx 50 miles) passing the time chatting about everything from football, old cars, Mrs Thatcher, and Derry Girls!
We were now onto the really tough part of the ride, climbing the notorious Witchy Knowe, which is a grueling climb but we knew there was going to be more food at the top in the form of the second rest stop. What we hadn't planned for was the hail stones. Eating our cake, we cowered for shelter at one side of a support van because the rain and hail were being blown horizontally. The poor support guys at this stop were dressed head to toe in gore-tex and probably had a tougher gig than us riders. We gladly remounted and swooped down the Yarrow valley back towards Innerleithen.
We knew we had broken the back of the ride but there was another long drag out of Innerleithen which seemed to go on forever and was not helped by the unrelenting head-wind coming from the north. Quite chilly! On reaching the top (although I can't remember exactly where) we coasted down into Heriots - the third and final refreshment stop, in brilliant sunshine. Again, multiple cups of sugary tea and fantastic brownies were called for and delivered, and then we were off again on the final 15 miles. For me, these were the hardest miles, and I just could not keep up with Andy and Greig. So imagine how I felt when I rounded a corner and found them waiting for me, sitting at a road-side bench tucking into the last of their provisions. Great guys! We looked across the valley and contemplated the final climb out of Stow towards the chequered flag in Lauder ....
It was a tough climb out of Stow - we knew it would be. There were encouraging cow bells again and the strange sight of a couple of Austrian-looking-blokes in Lederhosen. Even stranger, one of them gave me a push. After that, it seemed simple. Together again , we zoomed down the other side into Lauder and soon we were back in Thirlestane Castle grounds crossing the finish line, all three of us together.
One-Hundred-and-Forty-Three kilometres. Eighty-nine miles. Six-Thousand feet of ascent. One puncture. Loads of cakes. Many cups of tea plus sugar!
The Tour-De-Lauder was a great experience and one that I will remember for a long time. Do it all again next year .... hopefully !

subset: commoncrawl


text:
In 2017, about 75% of businesses in the US didn't have adequate insurance coverage, and about 40% of small business owners didn't care to get any insurance at all. This was, of course, dangerous. In essence, most of these small businesses could have shut shop if legal issues arose. In fact, in some states, operating without some insurance is even illegal. If you have more than a certain number of employees in your company, no matter how small the business is, you've got to have some kind of coverage for workers' compensation, disability benefits, and unemployment. Falling short can land you in court, a battle you may win, but still, lose all your money in the process.
Small business insurance extends beyond just covering for the damage to your commercial property and business equipment from disasters, like storms, fire, theft, hurricanes, and more. It protects your reputation, your resources, and of course, your employees from unnecessary hazards and health issues. It also saves your income in some cases.
Let's look at what small business insurance can do for you:
It increases your reliability
Small business insurance covers any damage to the property because of natural disasters and unfortunate incidents, like fire and thefts. This assures commercial building owners of your ability to protect the premises they rent to you. In other words, it increases your reliability. In so many ways, the term 'fully-insured' ring so well with clients/customers. Even possible business partners and vendors will be convinced that you can handle a financial mishap or a crisis if you have insurance.
It protects your cash flow
If there's a disaster, and you're unable to operate your business for a long time, the business interruption insurance could cover for your losses. However, the disaster should be included in the policy for you to raise a claim and it should directly influence your business operations, like major damage to the building or the breakdown of equipment leading to the temporary suspension of all business operations. The business interruption insurance will cover the expenses for the restoration period, in which you need to complete the necessary repairs or replacements. Some insurers will give you an extension to the restoration period though, in case the damage is severe. If you opt for additional endorsements in the policy, you may get extra coverage to reduce the losses incurred.
It helps meet liabilities
If someone gets injured on the business premises, who do you think should be responsible? Generally, it's upon the building owner to pay for the liability claims that the injured may raise. However, if the injured is your customer/client or any stakeholder, the small business insurance could come to your rescue. It will give you the general liability coverage to handle such issues with ease by paying for the medical expenses of the injured person, as well as covering legal expenses, in case s/he takes any legal action against you.
It protects your employees
As mentioned earlier, many states don't even allow businesses to function without worker's compensation insurance, a type of small business insurance. And there's a reason for it. Consider what would happen if any of your employees get injured in the workplace because of some faulty equipment, underserviced machinery, or anything else that you're held responsible for? if the injury is serious, which may even lead to disability and ruin the entire life of that employee, what will you do? Of course, you should seek the necessary help from your worker's compensation insurance coverage.
It will help you pay for the medical expenses of the injured employee and also give enough compensation to take care of the financial expenses for the recovery period. This apart, it can also help you pay for the vocational rehabilitation costs and death costs, like for the funeral, if the person dies. In many companies, employees may refuse to join, if the business doesn't have a well-defined worker's compensation insurance.
It covers for thefts and burglaries
About 20% of all small business claims arise from burglaries and thefts at the property. You can opt for a BOP (Business Owner's Policy) to protect your business and its assets from such instances. It combines the property insurance and general liability protection to form a single package, available at a less expensive rate than the two separately. Besides thefts, it also protects your business equipment and assets from unfortunate incidents, like fire damages, breakdown, spoilage, and so on.
So you see how the small business insurance goes way beyond the general concept of damage management? It helps you concentrate on taking your small business up the ladder of success and leave the worrying to the insurance policy.


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If you're cooking pork, you might well eb worried that you;re going to get something wrong. Undercooking and overcooking are both things that can happen, especially if you're new to cooking. And if you've splashed out on an expensive cut like pork tenderloin, you really don't want to get it wrong!
For instance, if you're not sure what color your pork should be when it's fully cooked, you might be confused if you see that it's still pink inside – even after you've cooked it for exactly as long as you think you're meant to!
Well, there's no need to worry, or be unsure any longer – as this article will show you all you need to know about making sure that your pork tenderloin is cooked to perfection, tasty and safe to eat – whether it still has that pink hue or not!
What Is Pork Tenderloin?
Pork tenderloin is a cut of pork – no surprises there! It's a long, thin cut of pork, cut from a muscle that lies along the central spine portion of the pig. This is called the psoas major muscle, and it's the most tender part of the pig – hence the name "tenderloin"!
The psoas major isn't used for the heavy duty task of moving the pig about, but is instead used for posture – making it more tender, because it doesn't have to do so much heavy work.
If you buy some pork tenderloin from the butcher, you might notice that there's a skin-like membrane attached to it, with a silvery hue, This is called the silverskin – it's a normal part of the cut, but one that you'll remove before cooking – if you don't want to do that yourself, then ask the butcher to cut it off for you.
It's a very lean cut of pork – meaning there's not a lot of fat on it compared to other pork cuts. It's completely boneless too. These factors make it a very easy cut to cook – and there are a lot of ways that you can cook it too!
You can grill them, roast them, broil them – the choice is yours. That's one of the many reasons that pork tenderloin is such a popular and versatile cut of pork.
It's a delicious and popular cut, and has a place in so many dishes! As it's quite a lean cut, it can also be very easy to overcook it – and you certainly don't want to do that, because this is probably the most expensive cut of pork.
Still, learn to cook well with it, and you'll find that pork tenderloin is a delicious cut of meat that you can put to great use in a huge variety of different meals.
My Pork Is Pink In The Middle – Is It Safe?
It can be easy to think that meat should be cooked until it's a uniform color throughout, but in reality there's a little more to good – and safe – cooking than just that. Looking at the color helps, of course – but there are more clues, and more things to consider.
Your pork tenderloin can actually be pink at the center, and still be safe to eat. Or, it can be pink inside, and completely unsafe to eat! Normally, cooked pork will have a white, but still slightly pinkish hue. And indeed, this coloration is usually a great indicator of a cut of pork that's been cooked to perfection.
However, if you're unsure – for instance, if you're new to cooking pork, and don't want to make a mistake – there is a far better way of telling if your pork tenderloin is cooked than simply looking at it.
And, frankly, with a cut as delicious and expensive as pork tenderloin, you don't really want to be cutting into it to check whether it's cooked – you're only going to ruin it! You'll let the juices flow out of it, leaving it dry – which, of course, you don't want!
Whatever cut of meat you're cooking, you'll have to get it to reach a certain temperature at the center before it can be considered cooked, and therefore safe to eat. If your pork doesn't reach this temperature, then, very simply put – keep cooking your tenderloin until it does!
There's only one way to be 100% sure that your meat has reached the crucial temperature for safe eating. Get a good quality meat thermometer, and use it. It's the only way to ensure that you're cooking your meat properly.
Without one, you're just guessing – and when it comes to something as important as food hygiene, you could be literally taking your life in your hands!
If you take a meat thermometer, and stick it into your pork tenderloin, you'll instantly know the internal temperature of the cut. You need to get your pork up to 145 degrees Fahrenheit. Any lower – even a single degree – and you can't consider it safe to eat.
Don't just check one spot, but probe as many areas on the cut as you need to ensure that the temperature is consistent and safe throughout.
Once your pork tenderloin cut reaches this temperature throughout, then great news – it's cooked! Now would be the best time to take it off the heat, as you don't want to overcook it. That would just impair the texture and flavor – it'll end up dry, and possibly burnt!
Once you cut into it, you might well find that the meat still carries a pinkish hue towards the center. This is normal, and as long as you've made sure that the temperature reached that critical point of 145 degrees Fahrenheit throughout the entire cut, then you can be sure that your meat is well cooked – whether it looks a little pink or not.
Why Is It So Important To Cook Pork To The Right Temperature?
Well, first of all, let's look at the less serious way of getting this wrong – overcooking. Now, overcooking isn't a great thing to do. It ruins the flavor, texture, and overall experience – and can make some meals that should be delicious into an absolute nightmare!
It can make things completely inedible, and as a cook, that's the second last thing that you want – to have made food that people can't eat or refuse to eat. This is one reason why you should take the temperature of your food very seriously – as getting this bit right means that you're in no danger of overcooking, and ruining the flavor of what should be a delicious cut of pork!
However, far more serious when cooking pork – and, of course, any meat – is the need to ensure that it isn't undercooked. Undercooked pork can be an extremely serious health risk.
Pork isn't like steak. You can eat a beef steak that's been cooked at many different temperatures, and the inside of a really well cooked beef steak will often be a very noticeable almost bloody pink color. This is perfectly fine for beef, as long as it isn't ground beef of course!
A steak that's "well done" is usually a uniform color throughout, but that's often considered a waste of a good steak – they're at their best when they're served with at least some of that pink still remaining, and are perfectly safe to eat. As long, of course, as they've been cooked at the correct temperature for beef!
Pork, on the other hand – now there's a potential nightmare if you try to eat it rare in the same way you can with beef. Serious illness, and maybe even horrible parasites could await you – and potentially death too!
You could well be putting yourself at risk of ingesting something nasty that lives in pork that would be killed and rendered harmless by cooking – such as trichinella spiralis, an unpleasant little roundworm that causes an infection called trichinosis.
Oh, and also, you have to deal with the fact that the diarrhea, cramps, fatigue, nausea, vomiting, aches, pains, fever, facial swelling, light sensitivity, rashes, headaches, chills, and so on… are all caused by something that is living inside you. A larva – or, more likely, larvae – living inside your intestines, or your muscle tissue.
Or, potentially even more horrifying – something called taenia solium, or taenia asiatica, which both turn out to be one of the most horrifying things imaginable – tapeworms! If you don't know much about these, then certainly don't search for them if you've got a weak stomach.
Suffice to say, they're a horrible creature that lives inside you, and which you should absolutely never ever do an image search for. Words alone cannot convey how strong a warning you should receive – just don't do that search, for your own sake.
The sheer thought of getting a tapeworm alone should be reason to ensure that you never consume pork without making 100% sure that it is completely cooked to the correct temperature of 145 degrees Fahrenheit again.
Food Hygiene – Get The Temperature Right!
Each type of food that you cook needs a certain temperature to be considered safe to eat. There's a handy chart at foodsafety.gov, an official US government resource, that shows you what temperatures you should cook certain foods at.
Turkey and chicken, for example, need to be cooked at the highest temperature on the list – 165 degrees Fahrenheit. Pork cuts, such as pork tenderloin, all need to be cooked to an internal temperature of 145 degrees Fahrenheit – lower than chicken and turkey, but it's still vital that you check with a meat thermometer to be 100% sure you've got it right!
Cooking pork can be worrying – you never want to undercook it, as it can cause illness, parasites, and potentially even death! But it needn't be thought of as dangerous, and in fact, it's quite easy to make sure you've got it right.
Hopefully this article has shown you just how vital the need for getting your pork to the correct temperature is -and just how, with a meat thermometer, you can make sure that you reach that temperature every single time!
- Is Blue Steak Safe To Eat? - May 7, 2022
- How To Tell If Your Bratwurst Sausage Is Cooked - May 7, 2022
- The Internal Temperature For Tri Tip When Done - May 7, 2022


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Basic Principles of Typography Optimization in Responsive Web site design
- September 18, 2018
- Posted by: AIMS KSA
- Category: Uncategorized
Approach heard a lot about Reactive Web Design (RWD), as it is one of the talked about subject areas on the net nowadays.
However , most of the instances, grids and pictures, fluidity and flexibility grab every one of the attention and barely any discussion for the typography.
Even though it's one of the essentials that demand importance but many designers somehow tend to dismiss this feature. In this article, my main focus is definitely on receptive typography with regards to the website style.
Content, although the most essential ingredient of any internet site, blog, community or directory site, is their content and the way it is actually presented. Nevertheless the focus of designers is mostly online design. This is when the problem arises.
The adaptive web design previously takes care of this aspect at some level, by which includes some volume of responsive typography. Yet this kind of cannot be called complete but it comes loaded with numerous typographic options. However , before we all go into the particulars, let us first of all understand what receptive typography can be.
What is Receptive Typography?
Reactive typography shows that the text online is not only resizable depending upon the screen size with the device, yet is also optimized in order to increase readability. Today, we can not only employ desktops or perhaps laptops to get into internet and browse websites but as well make use of tablets and smart phones.
For quite long, the designers are generally solely concentrating on website design to make it handy to the several screen sizes. There has been nearly or not much effort designed to optimize or adapt a few possibilities and its presentation according to the display size. Reactive typography address this issue, giving an opportunity to designers to experiment with this great article also.
Basics of Responsive Typography
The concept of responsive typography works on 3 basic principles:
Resizable text
Marketing of sections length
Whenever you help to make any decision about the presentation of text, this obviously begins from the font type. No matter what type of typeface you are using, but it's important to make sure that this can be very easily read. If you want to keep it sensitive, the only selections are Serif and Without Serif. Serif is generally intended for headings or perhaps titles, while Sans Serif is used for the rest of the content.
The logic is very simple. The Sans Serif font will give you more freedom to experiment with. So , you can actually use that for the chunk from the text. The Serif typeface, according to the designers, is quite severe, thus making it a perfect choice for titles.
Resizable Text
When choosing the font size pertaining to the text on your own website, ensure that you specify that in the stylesheet according to different display screen sizes. Nevertheless how to decide the proper font size is another query. For this the rule of thumb is certainly experiment you.
Yes, pick the font size and evaluate how www.puskesmaskpsawah.com i think when you focus on a computer system, a tablet and a smartphone. Remember that people look at their mobile phones from very near while tablet is definitely, most of the time, a little bit above the leg when a user is seated. In short, length matters. When you have a hard time reading it, boost the font size.
Optimization of Line Time-span
Optimizing the queue length is quite an important feature. The reason is that a desktop possesses a bigger display screen and can support around seventy five characters within a line while this will confirm detrimental to legibility on extra small screen size. Although there are no hard and fast guidelines, but of course, the size of a collection plays a major role inside the visibility and readability of this content.
Therefore , choose the entire line appropriately for different products and ensure which it does proper rights with the screen size as well as the general website design.
Do not underestimate this aspect of typography. Test out different backgrounds and color clashes before going live and decide on the one that appears best. Whilst testing, you might realize that something that looks really nice over a desktop might not produce a similar effect when ever seen on the smartphone or maybe a tablet for instance.
So , the rule of thumb is usually, experiment with several devices possible when it comes to Responsive Web Design and responsive typography. Buy or perhaps borrow, nevertheless make sure that the solution works with all display sizes and appears absolutely amazing.


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There are many reasons why you should hire a professional real estate agent when buying a home. Certainly you can try navigating the home buying process yourself, but if you have not previously purchased a property, you should do a lot of research before you attempt to do this on your own. The process can be long and overwhelming. Here is a few things to consider about the valuable insight your local agent can provide:
Experience is where an agent earns their commission. They know the neighborhoods and they have their pulse on the market 24/7; this is what they do for a living. They know what is selling and for how much. They get updated daily on what is for sale, or about to be. They can tell you when a house is overpriced or when it is a good deal just by looking at the listing.
The MLS is like having an insider trader's knowledge. They have toured the houses that are for sale and can narrow down your choices based on your criteria. Otherwise you will be wasting time driving around peeking in windows and setting up appointments. Remember that pictures can be deceiving.
A Variety of Options
You may have a pretty good idea where you want to relocate and the neighborhood you are looking for. However, your real estate agent can show you alternatives that may save you money and give you a better investment. For example, an adjacent street to the neighborhood you want may be selling for half the price. Your agent will also know of any up-and-coming neighborhoods where your money may stretch a little further.
Consider that once you start the process you may come up with another hundred questions and having your real estate agent answer in a quick text or email can save you hours of research.
An Objective Opinion
Buying a home is a very stressful and emotional time for you and your family. Everyone has an opinion about what and where to buy. The more choices there are the more contentious those opinions may be. Your real estate agent will be the objective party. They have worked with other clients just like you and they will give you the facts that you should consider, setting aside emotion. After all, this is a business decision.
Help with Negotiations
Your agent will also act as the intermediary in the negotiations. They will relay the information back and forth between parties and give you time to digest that information and discuss with your family. Once you reach a decision, you can run the decision by the agent to get an objective perspective.
Paperwork Assistance
Your agent will also provide you with all the information and forms you require. They will make sure all items in the check list are completed and know how to fix any hiccups. They are also very knowledgeable with bank, mortgage, and housing lending languages and terms. The steps in the process can be overwhelming at times and sometimes deals fall through. An experienced real estate agent will guide you through all the steps and explain in detail what your options are.
Recommending Additional Professionals
There are also other people you may need to hire like a home inspector. Your agent will have great recommendations. Otherwise you will have to try your luck with the advertisements.
Find REALTORS in Lockhart TX
Ready to start your new home search? Contact Lone Star Realty, a Lockhart real estate agency, to learn how we can help!


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Cumann Lúthchleas Gael Cill Mhantáin
Club: Eire Óg Greystones
Age: 23
League Debut: Kildare 2014
Championship Debut: Carlow 2014
Occupation: Warehouse Operator
Schools/College Attended: St. Davids Greystones
Position: Corner Forward
Favourite Food: Roast Chicken
Favourite Drink: Blue Powerade
Favourite Music: Hip Hop, Rap
Favourite Film: Gladiator, Step Brothers
When and where did you first start playing Hurling? Primary School
Biggest influence on your Hurling career: Gooch
Favourite Venue: Thurles
Favourite G.A.A. player past or present: Joe Canning
What sportsperson would you most like to meet? Messi
Toughest player to mark in training? Chester
Advice to younger players? Always practice even by yourself
Any other sports played? Soccer, rowing


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Manufacturing capacity is affected by the slowest rate of any piece of equipment in the manufacturing process. Many times, the same equipment is used for making multiple products. When this is the case, it is called block-operating and a series of products (a campaign) is made before the first product is made again.
All time spent cleaning and retooling the equipment for the next product to be made is called changeover time. The aggregate of all changeover time is lost capacity when no product is made. Therefore, the more products that are made on the same equipment, each additional product erodes the annual capacity of the entire production facility due to the additional changeovers. Different products can have different run rates. The campaign time is the aggregate time of all changeovers plus the time to make every product. The order in which the products are made is called the sequence. Cleanout and setup between individual products can vary in time depending on the nature of the equipment and the products themselves. Therefore, there is usually a preferred sequence to minimize the changeover time.
Some software attempts to explicitly model all above issues. Our software approximates the capacity impact. There is a tradeoff between model maintenance and model granularity. The point is to get to 80% of the solution with 30% of the effort. The approximation can be compensated for by adjusting the network safety stock.


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Buy buying this product you are supporting Peruvian organic farmers. These Organic Raw Cacao Nibs are certified organic under the USDA certification system.
These raw nibs contain no other ingredients, including sugar, flavour or colours.
Theobromine (theobromide), also known as xantheose, is a bitter alkaloid of the cacao plant, with the chemical formula C7H8N4O2.
Chocolate and shipping guide lines.
Chocolate is susceptible to high temperatures. While we take every care in packaging items to ship, we cannot guarantee that they will arrive undamaged during warmer months. Shipping any temperature sensitive items between September and April is at the risk of the buyer.
In an effort to reduce the effects of temperature on the chocolate your order maybe delayed. For example if the temperature is excessive on Friday your order will ship the following week. This eliminates your order travelling and waiting in uncontrolled courier depots during excessive heat. Why not if your local why not select the Saturday collection option?
Country of Origin | PERU |
Shipping Weight (Cubic Weight) | 0.6500kg |
Unit Of Measure | ea |
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Papers of the Bell family. The principal characters in the papers are
- Phyllis Margaret Bell (née Aitken)
- Cyril Francis Bell, Chief Conservator of Forests, Central Province, 1930s.
- H.M. Bell, Forest Officer.
- H.C.P. Bell, Archaeological Commissioner, Ceylon.
Papers are descriptive of family life and offical duties of forest officials in the Central Provinces, the Himalayas, the Maldive Islands and Ceylon [Sri Lanka] in the first half of the twentieth century. Also included are a number of academic and research papers.
These papers complement the Bell Collection in the National Archives in Colombo.
Donated by Ms Heather Bell.
Box 1 – Letters and diaries of the Bell family, 1916 to 1937; Papers relating to the Maldive Islands.
Box 2 – Histories of the archaeology of Ceylon [Sri Lanka]; Annual reports of the Archaeological Survey; Papers relating to the organisation and management of the Archaeological Survey of Ceylon; Papers relating to the sites and monuments at Anurahapura and Sigiriya; Notes and reports on outlying sites; Short biographical notes; Reactions to a report on 'concubinage'.