Been accross that bit of oggy a fair few times Mandy, it’s not always like that though 
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Tisn’t, but looks like the Rejang River in Sarawk, Borneo Ann, as I remember it, maybe its the canoes? 
It’s the Irrowady in Myamar Bill, a magical place 
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Is that near to where you live Mandy ? If so you must have some lovely areas to visit …
No Ann, this was taken on a whale watching holiday in 2006 before I moved to France. I live much further inland, in the Tarn about an hour north of Carcassonne.
Oh that’s lovely David.
That near Dune de Pilar David?
The old hospital at Confolens David ?
Yes Peter. I went there in October to meet a couple of people and the river views were stunning.
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No Bill, it’s at La Rochelle.
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Yes, it is nice down by the river.
They built a new hospital a couple of miles away so the old one is redundant.
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Nice area David, brings back memories, was in there in 72 on my way back from the Med, nice town, but had to byepass it since, never had time, or the weather to stop, spent a couple of months in Sable d’ Olonne one winter though.
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My favorite picture is one that has a bit of a story, personal, about a row boat ride I gave my grandmother Helen, in summer 1986 or 1987. Her husband of 50+ years had passed away, and his ashes were spread over the Penobscot Bay in front of their vacation home in Deer Isle, Maine. I visited her during one of her last summers there, and she asked me to row her out onto the calmed water, in the ‘little red rowboat’. It was a wooden dinghy painted brick red, that had been towed along behind the large converted lobster boat he’d owned when he’d taken us island-hopping. The little red rowboat was stationed above the high tide, and I’d volunteered to move it back up to its winter storage in the garage for her. We’d gone down to the beach to consider the logistics and I assured her my strong back could take care of it (and I’d demonstrated, apparently successfully, my ability/plan to do so…).
She and I had pushed the dinghy out into the calm waters that day, a sunny day with pale blue clear sky. I rowed her out and watched her as she trailed her fingers in the water at times and looked around. It was a sad, beautiful time and I remember trying to be too perky but she tolerated my efforts and smiled slightly.
Once we’d returned from our rowing tour back onto the pebbly beach, I made a request that I hadn’t actually expected her to approve: would she come put her cheek next to mine and let me take a photo of the two of us… a precursor ‘selfie’ I suppose… She acquiesced.
So, the photo of two faces, my fresh-faced twenty-something and hers slightly smilingly indulgent and sad. It’s one not necessarily great composition-wise, but when I look at it, it reminds me how important it is sometimes to recognize a moment and ask to ‘record’ in photo. I must have done things correctly (she was a stickler sometimes for decorum and so forth): the rowing and the excursion… must’ve made the right efforts. The photo represents many things including her acknowledgment that I’d done right by her. It’s the worse-for-wear now; I’ve carted it with me to 15-odd different locations through graduate school digs and on to more settled abodes. It’s stored somewhere. I should dig it out. Maybe I can find the negative somewhere…
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Thats a beautiful tale Mary, very poignant, my most valuable pictures, are in, my memories 
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Lovely picture, with presumably the Cornwall coastline in background. …and sailed the way they should be …upright
To add : is that stern sheeting, and the “carry handle” on the fore deck, which was subsequently removed in later years ?
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It does have stern sheeting, as did our second one. The third had centre sheeting because that was bought second hand. My dad preferred stern sheets and we used a kicker lever to flatten the mainsail. The carrying handles were standard for boats of that era. Our next boat 669 didn’t have them. The second one was launched in 1966 and before they even had their own sails delivered, the first time she was even in the water, my parents came second overall in her in the Welsh nationals at Port Talbot.
The photo was taken in St Austell bay with Par and Polkerris in the background.
I remember that my helm converted “our” boat from stern to centre…( he was a gadget man), and probably replaced the kicker about 3 times, one for another etc. The tuning went mad sometimes. People shaving as much as they dare from rudders and centre boards; rake adjusters. I think some boats were just faster than others despite who helmed them, ours wasn’t really one of them, although it had it’s moments.
We had some stories like everyone else. One of which was Beer Open meeting ( this place just created stories). It was a rough day, and we decided to go. The waves were quite large coming round Beer Head; and we sailed past the Southern mark until we thought we could turn safely. Well the downwind ride was swift…surfing down a wave with me the crew just about sitting on the transom ( think i was leaning on it). Anyway we corkscrewed and turned turtle, and i remember the mast head knocking on the bottom. We eventually go it upright, and sailed in exhausted. But what a ride 
, better than Disney World.
I had a good weekend at Beer once. We stayed in a holiday camp near Sidmouth, with the other Porthpean boats we won a barrel of beer for having the most boats from one club there then Steve who I was sailing with and I won the open. The best bit of the weekend was on the Friday night when wer arrived late planning to sleep in the car. We were stopped by the local police who upon listening to our tale told us to follow them. They left us in a car park and it wasn’t until we woke up the next morning we read the big notice saying, no sleeping in cars.