The Boat That Rocks
09th February 2011
Replete from an afternoon of grazing on good food, Dennis and I accompanied Dick back to the boat for an evening of musical entertainment. N.B. I use the term musical in the loosest sense of the word, when it refers to my singing.
We warmed up with a song and dance extravaganza that basically entailed us two jumping up and down and singing into ‘microphones’ of nivea sunscreen and lime cordial. Dick was very kind and asked where we learnt our routine.
Worn out with the wayward flinging of limbs we sat down and entered the music phase. Dennis is a whizz on the guitar and carries with her a bundle of music and lyrics.
What I didn’t know is that Dick had a keyboard stowed away in his bunkroom and is the master of the improvised percussion instruments. With my vitamin C maracas we were rocking into the night.
We warmed up with a song and dance extravaganza that basically entailed us two jumping up and down and singing into ‘microphones’ of nivea sunscreen and lime cordial. Dick was very kind and asked where we learnt our routine.
Worn out with the wayward flinging of limbs we sat down and entered the music phase. Dennis is a whizz on the guitar and carries with her a bundle of music and lyrics.
What I didn’t know is that Dick had a keyboard stowed away in his bunkroom and is the master of the improvised percussion instruments. With my vitamin C maracas we were rocking into the night.