CATCOUK returns!

Well hello there!

Just when you thought it was safe to get back into the water... err... I mean Internet. Oh, I ballsed that up. Never minid.

So, having not made a real post in three weeks (or is it four - well none in August any how), you'd think I'd have alot to say. And I suppose that alot of stuff has happenned. Well, going all the way back, the first stuff you missed out on, we our epic trip to Washington, D.C. I say our trip, as my friend Jordan kindly agreed to come with me, and that gave us a Jeep to use. And not just any Jeep, but a Jeep with a manual gearbox (thank the gods...).

After a 4 and a half hour drive (it wasn't me who drove most of the way), we eventually arrived near Washington. Now, being so close, I had to travel the extra 20 miles, and visit the big hangar, that's part of the (American) National Air and Space Museum. Jordan wanted to see the (American) National Gallery, so he jopped on a 'Metro' train (like a subway), whilst he lent me his Jeep. The hangar was amazing - I stood next to a Space Shuttle and everything (as a Star Trek fan, it was also pretty cool that the Space Shuttle they have is the Enterprise...)! It was cool. To boldly go...? The NASA prototype Space Shuttle - the Enterprise.

After a flying visit of the place, I jumped back into the Jeep, and headed for the Metro station. Although the US may have cheaper fuel, it doesn't last any longer. So naturally, the fuel light came on. And the needle dropped quickly afterwards. Bugger. So I pulled off of Route 66 (is that another tick in the book? - I've driven on Route 66), and found a 'gas station'. After several attempts, I was unable to make the pump work. So I stumbled into the shop like a buffoon to concede defeat.

As it turned out, I had to pre-pay. So I did, and returned to fill the car. I lifted the nozzle, and again nothing happened. I looked at the screen for instructions - 'Lift flap to select fuel'. Oh dear. I spent the next 5 minutes looking for the mythical flap of which it spoke, only to be left (ha ha ha) confused once more. So for the second time, I moped into see the lady cashier to fly my white flag. Just so that you know (put this in the US survival book), the flap was the cradle that the pump nozzle sat in.
Eventually I arrived in the center of D.C. And it was fantastic! Washington was so clean. I think the good weather helped. My first glimpse of the place, was from an escalator, ascending to street level. And it was outside in the open! Not like our Tube escalators that are all inside. It just felt cool. I made my way straight to the other Air and Space museum on the (American) 'National Mall'. What's with all the Air and Space stuff I hear you cry. Well, I'll confess, that visiting the place has been a life time dream for me. It's one small step for man, one pain in the arse photo for me!

And one of the reasons for that life long dream, is that the original model Enterprise from Star Trek is supposed to be there. So I wandered around the museum, saw a moon lander (which was cool) stood next to a model aircraft carrier (and yes, that remarkably too, was the Enterprise), and saw lots of other cool stuff. By the way, all of these photographs were a pain. Jordan was at the gallery, so I had to take all of them myself. But after 90 minutes, no sign of the Enterprise (the Star Trek thing, not the aircraft carrier). Dejected, I went into the gift store to look for suprise suprise - gifts.

Okay, so I admit to being a cheapskate at this point (but I was working voluntarily for three months). I noticed the gift store had a bargin basement - that's right, a clearance section. So down I went, sifted throught the clearance items (to no avail by the way), and what should I find at the back of this basement? The original USS Enterprise. Sign of the times I suppose, the most iconic model in the history of Star Trek, is at the very back of the bargin basement, in the gift shop of the Air and Space museum. Marvellous. All I ask is a Tall Ship, and a cheap gift to steer her buy...

After the museum, I went to the Capitol building (thing big white domed US building) to meet up with Jordan. From there we went around the US capital city, and 'saw the sights' (or as I put in my staff time off request - 'General Tourist Behaviour'). The whitehouse is alot smaller than you would think by the way. After a fantastic evening, we made our way back to the car, and onwards to Pennsylvannia. I asked if I could drive the longer leg back through the state of Delaware, and Jordan agreed. So, we swapped over in a service station in Maryland, and on I drove.

As I side note, I have now driven in four US states: New Jersey, Pennsylvannia, Delaware, and Virginia (that's where the Space Shuttle was).

Coming to the end of our I-95 leg in PA (the US's answer to the M1), and it is 1230 midnight. I'm cruising along at usual motorway speeds, and a little bit tired. I'm okay to drive, but I'm almost on automatic pilot. You have to realise that US Speed limits are alot lower that in the UK, and I was doing 70ish. The speed limit was 55. I look in my rear view mirror, and I notice a set of headlights. A set of headlights that look suspisiously like they belong to a 'Crown Victoria' (the standard US police car). Bugger. After changing lanes, and the lights staying glued to my backside, some red and blue ones go off.

The question is - did I run, and make it into America's scariest police chases? Did I stop and get arrested, thus spending a night in jail with a 400lbs sweating bank robber? Did I get deported? Who knows. You'll have to wait until next week's thrilling installment to find out...

If you hate it when I write two part posts, why not leave a comment saying that you could have read more before you fell asleep with boredom.

If you have already fallen asleep, why not leave a comment when you wake up, saying how long you were asleep for.

Quote of the... er... Month?: 'How do you plead' asked the magistrate of me. Honestly, I had to attend a Court hearing and plead. Woops.

Where is CATCOUK?

The general public are now beginning to worry about the welfare of CATCOUK writer, Andy Clarke. Nothing has been heard from the 21 year old from Lancing in several weeks now, via his multi-award losing blog. Suspisions have now been raised as to whether the intrepid young man did indeed make it back from his recent 11 week trip to the United States.

Suspisions were raised after a regular reader of CATCOUK trawled back through past posts of this year's 'American Adventure', and found that Andy hadn't been injured once. A full investigation has now been launched, and international authorities remain hopeful. Rest assured, whatever the fate of CATCOUK, or Andy Clarke, you will hear about it her first.

Goodnight, and good luck!

If you have any information as to the whereabouts of CATCOUK, and would like to see that this blog remains silent, you can leave a comment below, and we'll get him.

If you have any information as to the whereabouts of CATCOUK, and would like to see the posts continue, you can leave a comment below.

If you don't have any

I think that we all knew this was enevitable

So, I went straight from a busy week filled with 54 Scouts, to a busy week filled with shutting down and closing camp. It's all very sad. I have packed away the Corpulent Porpoise for what might be my last time. Many of my freinds have left, or are leaving, and I have to realise that this may be the last time that I see them.

Having said that, Bill, the boss, has now asked me several times to return next year. And I have to give him credit. My mind has gone from knowing that this would be my last year, to 'How can I make this happen again next year?' And changing my mind is like trying to steer a train...

Anyways, as busy as I am, I haven't really the time to entertain you, so you'll need to entertain yourselves. Either of the links below are barrels of fun, and will keep the average reader of this blog entertained for hours...

http://www.instantrimshot.com/

http://www.sadtrombone.com/

Have fun. See you all next week, when I'll be posting live from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland! Rule Britainia...

Y'all came through, shame I haven't!

I know, I know, you've left some comments, but writing this dribble takes time. I really am trying to find a spare hour somewhere, but looking after 54 Scouts is way more busy than it sounds. Especially when you don't recognise any of them. It's even more difficult being a British bloke amongst this rabble. Take this evening's 'Tether Ball Battle Royale'. Ever heard of tether ball? Nope, me neither, but I played. Played and lost every game - but I looked glamorous doing it. What was it my sailing instructor said - the elephant is a graceful bird...

Then there was the irony of me telling off American Scouts for messing around at a flag ceremony - when it's the damned American flag! Hello, I can stand still for two minutes, and it's not even my flag!!! Well, I managed to find a few minutes here to scribble something. But I'm afraid, as amazing a Scoutmaster as I maybe (even the boss almost complimented me today) I still have to sleep (and be up in time to wake people up for early morning swim - yippee!). So on that note, I will bid thee goodnight, and pleasant dreams (and as I tell the Scouts, don't let the bed monster get ya!)

Where's the post?

Well, no-one has left any comments in the last two weeks (although someone did last week on FaceBook - thanks Charlotte). Until this is rectified, I won't be posting anything. And it has absolutly nothing to do with the fact that I am the Scoutmaster of Ockanickon Troop 1, with 54 boys, and exceptionally busy chasing around after the kids to do stuff.

On a side note, and because it is so cool, I went to Washington DC this weekend which was amazing. I stood next to a Space Shuttle! (it was the Enterprise too...)

Week Eight: 'Home' once more...

G'day mates!

Why Australian I hear you ask? Well, the number of people thinking that I am from the land of Oz is increasing. Which is odd really, as some Americans think that I might be Australian, others are almost offended by the thought - 'No way! You're definately British!' Facinating.

But that's not all. I like to wear my Nautical Training Corps (NTC) uniform to 'retreat' ceremony (when they lower their flag) every now and then. It makes experience for the Scouts, whilst allowing me to represent the Nautical Training Corps (it's also nice to be different sometimes). Unfortunately, some people don't quite realise what my uniform is.

Obviously, the NTC is so unwell known in the UK, that no American is going to guess correctly. Most go straight for me being a 'Sea Scout', which is about as close to correct as they can be. Some ask if I am in the Royal Navy, which again, is fairly reasonable. Last year, my rank was signified by a big gold button with an anchor written on it. This year, thanks to my ludicrous promotion, I have three thick gold stripes. With my officers cap, I have had several people ask if I am a pilot. Even if I was a pilot for British Airways! With the stripes I can kind of understand the confusion - but with all the anchors on my various badges? What pilots carry anchors? Bad ones, that's who. If 'm flying, I don't want to expect a water landing...

Just when you think the level of dumbness amongst our campers has reached an all time high, they go out and proove that people are always capable of being more dumb. One day this week, I told my sailing group that we would need another driver, as one of the parents wouldn't be available (the lake that we sail on is about 15 miles away form camp). One of the Scouts enthusiastically said he would get his Dad. I asked if he could take the other two Scouts from his troop too. I said 'Yes, absolutly'. Okay great. So I jump in the other leader's car, with the other three Scouts, and we drove the the car park and waited. And waited. And waited...

After about 20 minutes, the leader and I decided that we should probably go and see where the other leader and the three Scouts had gotten to. So we drive up to the back of the 'parking lot', and we find the rest of our group. It turned out that the other leader had a two-seater pick-up truck. Two seats for five people. So, the leader was standing at the side of the vehicle (looking a little confused) about to get in, and drive off. His son was sitting in the passenger seat. Where do you think the other two kids/ Scouts were? That's right - in the bed of the truck!

Obviously, we stopped that from happenning. But I should have seen it coming, when one of the Scouts had asked me previously, and unrelated, 'So, what's the law on riding in pick-up trucks in Pennsylvannia?'.

'Well' I replied, and to the best of my knowledge, 'as I understand it, it is legal to ride in the bed, so long as you are below the load level of the bed. Of course, I could be wrong.' How riding below the load level is any safer is anyone's guess. Only in America...

Finally, we get on to the topic involved in this week's title. This weekend, I travelled 'home' to New Jersey to see my friends (who are like a second family really). Dunellen, NJ is kind of my American home, and I just love the people there. I can't believe it has taken me so long to get up there and see them. Terry kindly lent me his car, so I went on a mini road trip to Dunellen, 70 miles away. As I am sure you all know, I dearly love driving. But driving automatics long distance is as dull as I have always thought it was. This was made even worse by America's ridiculously low speed limits.

I was driving at 55 mph along roads that in the UK would have a speed limit of 70 (which really means doing 80). Of course, if I had been driving my car, with the UK police to worry about, I would take the risk of pushing it just over the speed limit. But in someone else's car, with a foreign police force to worry about, I wasn't risking it. It felt like it took forever to get up to Dunellen.

But I arrived at Bill V's house just after 12. Fantastic. It was great to see Bill and his wife Stella again. I spent a few hours with them, and had lunch. By the way, Bill V cooks the best steak that I have ever had! Absolutly beautiful. After that, I moved onto Chris Q's house, and met up with him and his wife for dinner. In the evening some more people showed up, and we just sat on their back porch, in their words, BS'ing (BS stands for Bull and Something Else). I think I eventually got into bed around 1am. It was a late night, but it really was great to catch up with the Piano family, and the rest of the troop. And they always treat me so well. I really hope I'll be able to get up there and see them again.

Well that kind of wraps up my week. Except to say that my friend Bill V has given me a special ration of 'Pickled Balogne' for camp. It's like a giant uncooked frankfurter, but pickled. It looks pretty disgusting (I may even put a picture up later), but it tastes great. Thanks Bill.

If you think riding in the back of a pickup truck for 15 miles sounds like fun, why not leave a comment addressed to the organ donar program.

If you think that riding in the back of a pickup truck for 15 miles is a bad idea, why not leave a comment addressed to the camp's staff applications.

Quote of the Week: 'That's a tip from an old hunter, from when he used to go hunting coons' explained Bill V over a coke. I'd never heard a racoon called a coon before, so I naturally assumed that Kentucky must have some really racist hunting history...

Tune of the Month: Tea for the Tillerman. Chris Martin. (it's the closing theme to Extras)

Week 7: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Howday y'all!

This week, has probably been the most exciting week yet in the States. And this week's title is very literal, in the sense that is acurately describes my week. Well, almost. So the train was technically last week, when Jordan and I hopped on the choo-choo to Philly. But the rest were definitely this week.

From a work point of view, the competency of the leaders coming with Scouts definitely dropped. We have written in the leader guides, we tell people at a meeting, and I even tell the class on the evening before: YOU MUST PROVIDE TRANSPORT. So the first day of sailing, and we have just about enough transport for the Scouts, but not for me or my assistant. So Giraffel (my asst. had to drive). What makes me mad though, is that one of the trucks had two adults in (where only one was needed), and the truck had another seat they weren't using. Dullards.

This was compounded by the other sailing crew. Two of them, both as dull as cod. Honestly, they could have fallen asleep and been more interesting. They are also the first crew that I haven't invited to have ice cream. I just couldn't spend any more time in their presence!
I have to also say, that this week was the first week that sailing made the front page of our troop evaluations (well, last week's). This is a good thing. But we didn't just get written in there once, but FIVE TIMES! The first time we are on the front page, and it happens multiple times! One said that, and I quote ‘Sailing is awesome – and so is Andy!!!’ Brilliant. This week's 'evals' were just an excuse to write my name or my department on a piece of paper.


Although we had to drive ourselves this week, it did allow us to get some stuff from the store. Last year, I purchased an American 'Cell Phone' from a 'dollar store'. It cost $10, so I thought, 'What the hey, why not?' After 7 weeks in the US, I have finally used my free 20 units. When I went to buy new airtime, the cheapest was $20 for 60 units. Considering that I had only used 20 units, it made sense for me to just get another new 'cell phone'. So I have! Despite these stupidly low prices, they do try and squeeze all the money they can out of you. I get charged (and apparently this is normal in the US) to receive calls, as well as make them. That really annoys me.


But nevermind, for people are being very open about letting me drive their cars this year. Jordan let me drive his Jeep back from the 'Rail road' station last week, and Todd let me drive his car to the ice cream shop and back. Todd's car is still my favourite 'normal' car. I'm not sure that anything can beat the 'Suburban'. But Todd is a great guy, and he is kind of the camp's very own superhero. In fact, Superman wear's Todd Warner pajamas. But I digress. For, as well as letting me drive his car, Todd also let me pilot his PLANE! That's right everybody - I went flying this weekend with Todd! He was even kind enough to use a plane... Me, flying with Todd - he was a little tired, so he decided to use the plane instead. Todd and I standing by his plane, the Piper Archer, N2245W.

The weather was good enough for us to get to fly around, but we weren't able to stay up for as long as we would have like. The weather closed in a little, and Todd didn't want an 'exciting landing'. Apparently, some people call those a crash!!! But it was a good 90 minute flight. We flew over camp, and over the lake that I sail on. We nearly hit a glider, and a plane nearly hit us, but it was an enjoyable flght. And Todd's landing was near perfect. Not bad really, he's only been flying for 2 years. Todd's plane in it's hangar - we had to pull it out by hand, and it wasn't even very heavy (whuch would be a good thing for a plane)

Todd let me fly the plane, a 1979 Piper Archer, along the Delaware river, and I was at the controls for about 20 minutes. It was awesome, and much more difficult than I ever thought a plane would be. But I guess that I'm just used to a big commercial aircraft that moves very little. With this new experience, I have now driven a vehicle at a faster speed than ever before! We were flying (air speed) at 115 knots (around 120-125mph). And that's also a new heght record for me to drive at, we flew at 3000ft.

Me at the controls - contain yourself ladies, I know that it's just like a scene from Top Gun...

The controls that I had to play with - how about this for irony, Todd was able to fly on his (left) side of the plane, just like in a car, and I was able to drive on the right side of the plane, just like a car. Why can't cars be like that?

Thanks Todd, it was an awesome day. And to follow it up, we ate at Chick-Fill-A, a delicious chicken based fast food restaurant. And y'all know how much I like my chicken nuggets with BBQ sauce! Delicious.

Lastly, my Nan (or Grandmother if you have to speak American) had her 88th birthday this week (at least I think she's 88 - I could be wrong). Obviously, being here, I wasn't able to see her on her birthday. So what better way to send a cheery birthday message than with a video. But not just any video. How about a video of 100 American staff member Scouts singing happy birthday, the only way they know how? Voila - one birthday video. You can see it too, on YouTube by clicking here.

Well that was my week. This weekend I'm going to cross the State line into New Jersey to see my friends from Scout Troop 29. I can't wait to see those guys again.

If you are a fan of Top Gun, and are offended by my comparson to it, why not leave a comment telling me that I'm far taller than Tom Cruise.

If you are a fan of Top Gun, but are now an even bigger fan of me, and you are young, attractive and female, why not leave a comment telling me that I'm far taller than Tom Cruise (you might also want to include your phone number...).

Quote of the Week: '[Sigh] Looks like we'll be talking again this evening' said Kevin, our first year Scout (Dan Beard Program) Director, when I informed him that one of his staff members had told Scouts that you can find North by looking at the moon, and that a map and compass is useless in the woods. Sorry Kevin.

Week Six: Golf cart fun!

Welcome to another thrilling installment of CATCOUK, live from the United States of America. I have to start this week, with an exclusive announcement. The United States once again recognises the authority of Her Majesty the Queen. For the time being, I am accepting the position of Supreme Governor of the US, until the Foreign Office dispatches someone to relieve me. How did this all happen, I hear you cry. Well read on and find out...

This week has been pretty good. Well, it started pretty good. We took 10 kids through their sailing merit badge this week, bringing our seasonal average up to 6.5 Scouts a week. Once again, this brings our weekly average to more than 100% of my department's capacity. At this moment in time, I have a further 8 this coming week.

The camp has a couple of golf carts for various people. Most prominently, the Camp Director, and the Health Lodge (whose cart is known effectionatly as the 'Am-boo-boo-lance'). On Tuesday, I needed to transport a couple of cots (camp beds) to the Lenape campsite. Lenape is farthest away from everything. It's about 30 million miles out from the rest of camp. Naturally, I wasn't going to struggle all that way with two wooden cots, so I asked to borrow Bill's Golf Cart. He said that he didn't have a problem with it, so I carried on.

When I went to stop at the equipment shed, I misjudged the brakes a little, and pulled a very Starsky & Hutch style skidding turn and stop on the loose gravel. I did this, unintentionally, right in front of a whole class of an Eagle department merit badge. The whole class stopped, and turned around to look at me, wide open mouthed like fish. Then one kid said 'That was so cool!', shortly followed by the other 30 kids jeering. It did feel pretty cool.

I also had to pick up a cot from another campsite. Instead of folding it up, I decided to just rest in accross the length of the cart. This worked pretty well, except that I now had a huge blind spot. I didn't run over any small Scouts, but I did hit a small tree stump. That was uncomfortable. To end the day off, the Health Officer tried to race me in the 'boo-boo-lance'. It was a futile effort, as my cart was much faster (newer batteries), but they cheated, and the climbing director pulled their cart past ours. Cheats.

Following this, the less competent Camp Director told me that I was banned from Golf Carts. This I have taken with a pinch of salt, as he has far less safety practices than I. He drove in the pitch black of night, with no lights, and a camping adult standing on the back. And because he couldn't see where he was going, he drove under a low branch, and knocked the leader off the back. Idiot.

This weekend, Jordan and I went on a train. That's right, a TRAIN. My first trip on an American train. It was interesting. Many different characters. But I have to say, for all of the US's technological advancements, I was suprised at how backwards the train network was. Everything on the train was manual. Each carriage had to have a man operating it. There weren't even computerised tickets. But we had a great day out in Philadelphia (if not a very warm day).

Also, I have had complaints about a lack of photos. Well, yeah, I haven't been taking many. But here is a photo that I have taken.

Why am I wearing a Hawaiian shirt? Because it's Friday!!!

Finally, how did I become Supreme Governor of the US. Before we left on Saturday, as always, we had a closing ceremony, which includes lowering the US flag. We were lined up ready to marvh on as the staff, when I realised that the only directors we had, was our unconfident ecology, our very old doctor (medical advisor), and one of our Asst. Program Directors. As he sucks at parade offers, I offered to march on the staff, in the absence of other people. I marched on, and I realised that I would be taking the salute. Oh well, we'll deal with it. But it wasn't until they were lowering the flag that I would also be receiving the American flag.

Okay, so this was akward. They were about to retire the American flag, in front of 700 people, to an English bloke. One of our small, but excpetionally competent staff members came to present the folded flag, and you could see his eyes widen as he saw who he was reporting to. He came up to me, and asked unsure, 'So, am I giving this to you?'

Equally unsure, 'I... I guess so' I replied. So I took the flag, and marched off holding it as best as I had been told. The Americans are very picky about how their flag is carried. Despite being the only person I have seen attenpt to carry it off correctly, I think I held the flag upside down. Bummer. But never mind. I guess as the US have presented me with their flag, they have surrended. Jolly good!

If you would like to be Supreme Governor of America, why not leave a message, addressed to the UK foreign office.

If you think that I have made an error, why not leave a message, addressed to the US State department.

Quote of the Week: 'If you'll look out of the window, you'll see the boat of professionalism sailing away' gestured one of our competent Asst. Camp Directors, Terry, at the Sunday night leaders meeting, as the meeting ended in many a joke, and hilarity. It was funny.

Week Five: I can't think of any more titles that begin Welcome Back

Hello to one and all. First off the bat, I need to straighten a few things out. I'm not very good at making sure that my comments get answers when they ask something. So I'm going to do that first. Either I used the term 'CIT' or one of my comments did. The term CIT refers to a 14 year-old staff member, that is a 'Councellor In Training'. Sorted.

I also feel a strong urge to point out that having more clocks in camp is a rediculous idea, and Nick is still a bit bizarre. No matter how many comments you leave Nick, it will not chnage the fact that people could just buy a watch, instead of demanding more clocks around camp. Just keep looking for toads in the breezeway...

So, this week has seen me clawing back at my department's seasonal average. Last year, despite having a capacity of 6 Scouts, the sailing department ended the year with an average of 7.2 Scouts per week. Last week we only had 2 Scouts, and I need to start getting that average up again (for the pride and fine tradition of the Corpulent Porpoise). So this week, we took 8 Scouts through their Small Boat Sailing Merit Badge. If I can get another 8 through this week, I'm back up to an average of 6 a week!

The rest of this week, just like the rest if camp so far, has gone swimmingly well. A few complaints, but nothing too serious or repetitive. Alas, we realised this week that there is trouble on the horizon. Just like last year, when I was doing site assignments, Asst. Camp Director Nick found that we have more campers coming in a few weeks than we have beds for. Oh dear... Fortunatly we have a plan, and once again, the camp will be very crowded, but program will continue. Unfortunatly, the plan involves moving staff members from their accomodation. It's a logical plan, I just wish the camp would tell the staff members involved...

But the week hasn't all been great ice cream whilst sailing, followed by stress and frustration. I did infact have some fun with my friends at the Health Lodge, Bridget and Pat. One evening, I was in the dining hall, when a Scout walked in, not wearing anything but a towel. The camp has a dress code for the dining hall, and oddly enough, more than a towel is required. So, myself and other staff members challenged the Scout. He said that he needed to use the toilet, as he had diaheorra. Obviously we let him in.

As fellow commissioner Nick phoned into the Health Lodge, annoncing 'Code Brown', we waited for the Scout to come out so we could escort him to the Health Lodge. The Scout came out looking very healthy, and it was then that I started to piece the evidence together. As the Scout was getting changed in his tent, it dawned on me. Young looking Scout (most likely first year), and it's Tuesday. Well, most first year Scouts don't like the idea of using the latrines (where you do you business into a fancy looking, but fowl smelling hole in the ground). By Tuesday, it becomes time for nature to take it's course. The kid didn't have the runs, he just hadn't been in several days!

As the Scout casually hung his swimming shorts out to dry, I said that he should bring them with him, as we escorted him to Health Lodge. Making him carry them at arms length the entire way, we walked into the Health Lodge with him. At this point, the nurse, Bridget took one look at us, and started screaming at us. 'You made him carry those all the way accross camp?!?!?!' If they were really dirty, you don't really want to be spreading contaminant. As Nick and I tried to bolt, Bridget chased after us angrily. I explained the situation, and she started laughing.

In the meantime, Pat has placed the shorts in a plastic bag, and has now come tearing out of the Health Lodge, proceeding to hit Nick and I. Eventually, we stop laughing long enough to explain the situation. I hope that taught the Scout a lesson about using latrines, and lying - A Scout is Honest!

Finally, I discovered this weekend that I can get 15% discount at the local outdoor equipment store. They give this discount to students, and they accepted my UK National Union of Students card. Good news. Last weekend, my long lasting €35 'walking shoes' from France gave up. The soles started to peel off, and the apoxy resin is only just holding. Having said that, I only bought the things because I forgot my boots when I went on a three day expedition in Fontainbleu in 2006. They were cheap, and have lasted rediculously well. So, I need new shoes for Uni is September, may as well get them now. As it turns out, it was damn cheap. $60 (roughly £30) saw me get new Merrell approach shoes. The cheapest I've seen them back home is £45-£50. The climbing gear here is cheap as well. It looks like I'll need to find some luggage room.

Well that's been my week in the US. On a couple of a personal notes: Siobhan, that looked both disgusting and painful; Michael, best of luck, and I need to speak to you soon.

If you like to play practical 'code brown' jokes on people, you might want to leave a comment asking for profesional help.

If you don't enjoy playing practical 'code brown' jokes on people, you may wish to leave a comment telling us how sick we all are!

Quote of the Week: 'I don't want any witnesses!' said Bill (the boss) menacingly, as Program Director Joe, Commssioner 'Girly Scream' Nick, and I discussed how we would remove some brown bats.

Week Four: Welcome back to the Boy Scouts

This has certainly been an interesting week. I was almost tempted to title this post ‘the talented Mr. Clarke’, but I felt that that was too egotistical. As you know, I am the camp’s Sailing Director, and I’m also a Commissioner (basically a one man customer services department). But at the beginning of this week, I took on another role: replacement Archery Director.

I didn’t really mind taking over at the Archery range (after all, I am qualified in archery, and it will look cool in my logbook). Having said that, I didn’t realise that I would need to run the range for a day and a half, including running the range whilst the camp’s national inspection went on. So basically, I needed to run the camp’s archery range, that I had only ever seen once before, during the camp’s BIG national inspection. No worries there then…

Well, we did pass the inspection with flying colours, so the three departments that I was responsible for didn’t fail. I can’t say that it was all hard work though. The shooting sports director, an older guy who tells blue jokes and is affectionately known as Mr. A, let me drive up and down from the range. He has a broken ankle, so that makes driving difficult. As you all know, I love driving, so you would think that that would make me excited enough. Add to this, that the shooting sports range is only accessible by a very sketchy road that traverses the side of a mountain. Heck, one side of part of the road is a near sheer drop down to the creek. One wrong turn there, and it would be good night Vienna.

Furthermore, the guess what sort of car it is? That’s right – my favourite American vehicle, a mk VIII (8) Suburban (still the only car technically large enough to eat another car – whole). This is the ‘shooting sports ‘burban’, and dates back to 1974. I love cars of the 1970’s, and I especially love mk VIII Suburbans. This particular Suburban is not road legal any more, and some, what some will call… quirks? Mr. A has told me that he’s afraid that he’ll stamp on the brakes one day, and the cabin will slide off of the rusty chassis. Also, the exhaust pipe is split halfway, so it sounds like an absolute beast. The exhaust fumes also get filtered through the cabin. So the passengers may get some fine filtered fumes (I guess it’s like a petrol head’s drug or something). Because of the filtering effect, I guess it’s also the most harmless American car to the planet…

So after all the fun of driving a huge American off road fortress on wheels, down the smallest, most dangerous road on the face of the planet, the rest of the week couldn’t really get better. Well, it didn’t, but some other fun stuff happened to. Last week, my fellow commissioner, Nick, received a comment that there aren’t enough clocks around camp. Now, after a sustained period of laughter, my response, and just about every other sane person’s response was: ‘Just buy a watch!’ Well, many people heard about this, and the thought escalated to: ‘a clock on every tree’, ‘every clock should be a cuckoo clock’, ‘there should be some of those freaky cat eye clocks too’.

Following this, we have made fun off, taken the mickey out, and just generally annoyed Nick all week. Until this week, on Thursday we had our leaders meeting. Our boss, Bill, asked the camp if there were enough clocks around camp. The answer from the Scoutmasters was unanimously yes. Everyone that knew about the situation, except Nick who vehemently supports the idea, was gob smacked. JUST BUY A FRIGGIN’ WATCH!

But hey ho, one of our Asst. Camp Directors, Nick (different from previous commissioner Nick) has now bought commish Nick a ‘Sponge Bob Square Pants’ clock. He will now be receiving radio calls asking for the time. He must reply with ‘Sponge Bob says…’. Oh we are going to have some fun!

I spent this weekend at someone’s home! For the first time in 27 days, I actually slept in a bed. A real bed, not a dodgy camp cot. But most interestingly, the family were really nice, and helped me out immensely. Including lending me some shoes when the soles peeled off of mine (they also epoxied my soles back on). Moreover, I had my first real ‘Philly Cheese Steak’ (basically sliced beef steak in a small baguette with cheese sause), and a Slurpee (icy flavoured drink?). How American I have been this week. Also, despite the boss banning me from wearing my cowboy hat (as seen in ‘Andiana Jones’), I wore it Friday afternoon while he was off site. Yeehaw!

If only I had gone hand gun shooting this week, I couldn’t have been much more American! Yet despite this, Friday was still the 4th July. Although that doesn’t mean much to most people (other than it’s no longer 3rd July), apparently it’s a big day in the states. Despite all of my Americanism this week, the boss said ‘I don’t want Andy involved [with the Independence Day celebrations]’. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not.

Finally, and I suppose there’s almost a segway there, the reason for the title of this post. Welcome back to the Boy Scouts. I have had to put up with so much administrative bull this week it’s untrue. I was almost ready to kill someone Thursday night, so it’s a good job Asst. Camp Director Nick offered some of us virgin piña colada (basically no alcohol) when he did. Mind you, someone did tell me once that 2 thirds of the BSA is BS. Ain’t that the truth…

If you thought this post was just thrown together with no particular order (and you’d be right), why not leave a comment telling me to practice more.

If you thought that this post was perfectly coherent, you don’t read right!

Quote of the Week: ‘So, with that accent, which state do you come from?’ I was asked of a young Scout, before replying with ‘Alabama’. Idiot.

Tune of the Month: Mistress Mabel. The Fratellis (in support of someone over here actually hearing of a UK band – thank you Zach!)

Week Three: Welcome back to the Corpulent Porpoise...

Last week, we all rejoiced in the fabulous news of the Corpulent Porpoise sailing once more. My predecessor, and last year’s sailing program in general was plagued with a series of problems. This was not helped by renaming the boat, as is the tradition of the camp. Well, I believe that this is one of the unluckiest things that you can do to a boat.

So, in an attempt to skirt around the boat’s bad luck, I have kept the name this year. This is by a large, in opposition the rest of the staff, who wish the tradition to continue. I have however, put my foot down, and kept the name.

And sure enough, Monday was a glorious day. The ‘Porpoise sailed beautifully on Monday morning, and everything went great. Perhaps all of my fears had been in vain, and my simple action of keeping the name have solved the situation. Wrong.

Sailing back into dock on Tuesday, the boat was quite sailing as I had expected it. We were getting very near the berth, and we began to lower the main sail (theory being that we could sail in just using our front ‘jib’ sail). Suddenly, we heard a ‘crack’, and the jib sail fell down the mast, and fell into the drink. Acting quickly I ordered paddles onto the deck, before the wind could blow us too far away. I hauled the jib sail back on the boat, and we moored up (or parked for those of you that don’t speak nautical).

Upon closer inspection, the rope that keeps the sail at the top of the mast. Now here’s a big irony – one of our assistant camp directors helped us set the boat up. He is not known as a man of great competence (unless you are talking about the camp’s money, or reversing vehicles). So when he said to me ‘that line will never hold’, I of course did the exact opposite. How was I supposed to know that the one time Tom would be right this century was this time.

So anyway, I was now left with a merit badge class to teach, and a pretty vital metal wire stuck at the top of a 25ft mast. Bugger. Apparently the curse of the Corpulent Porpoise continues.

This was a pretty major problem. The best way to complete the job would require us to bring the ‘Porpoise out of the water, lower the mast, sort the problem out, and then reset the mast, and launch again. Unfortunately, this would require the use of a pretty strong vehicle (maybe the Suburban?), and the cast of Ghandi (well 3 or 4 people). I didn’t really want to make use of that many of the camp’s resources, so I developed a plan. Cue Hannibal Smith from The A Team: ‘I love it when a plan comes together’ he says putting a cigar into his mouth.

Using Terry’s car, I would transport an extension ladder to the boat, have another staff member hold the ladder against the mast, whilst I climb to the top of the ladder, and grab the wire. One of the advantages of being a member of ‘Adventure Sports’ is that I have a larger staff that I can call upon for support. So while my assistant Jaffle carries on with the sailing merit badge on the small SunFish, I could borrow another Adventure Sports staff member, and some ‘toys’.

With Terry’s agreement, I loaded the ladder on Wednesday morning, and Mike and I headed for the lake, armed with a climbing harness, a sling, and some lobster claws (like safety clips on the end of two ropes). We arrived at the boat, and set the ladder up. Mke held the bottom, whilst I climbed half way, to throw a sling around the mast, above the spreader bars to secure the ladder.

At this point, I feel the need to point out, that this boat has a fair amount of bad luck surrounding it. The boat is 34 years old, and the securing point that the mast attaches to is weakened. I am about to scale 25ft of this mast, right to the top, whilst it’s in the water, and still wobbling about. Nothing could go wrong with this plan at all! Of course, I wasn’t afraid to carry this out…

In an attempt to go less far up the mast, I had borrowed a long armed magnet from Handicraft, so that I could just magnet the metal wire from just over half way up. Unfortunately the wind had wrapped the boat around several other wires, so the magnet plan wouldn’t work. With all the bad luck, and poor equipment in mind, I nervously began to scale the ladder. I found the wire that I was after, and began unwrapping it quickly. I wasn’t going to hang around here longer than I needed to. Job done, I came back down the ladder, and relaxed.

In the whole operation, nothing went wrong. Which was a good thing, because despite wearing a climbing harness, and having lobster claws attached to me, I never attached the lobster claws to anything else! But hey, I had safety equipment with me.

But the curse of the boat continued. On the way home, we hit a small bump at 25mph, and one of Terry’s roof bars snapped. Well, not actually the metal bar, but one of the silly bloody plastic feet. I was understandably furious, and very upset that I had damaged Terry’s car. I apologised to Terry, and offered to replace the part and/or pay for it. Terry proceeded to say don’t worry about it, as he explained that a replacement would cost $200! Can you believe that? $200, and it can’t even hold a flipping ladder?!?!?!

Following this, I have asked the camp’s gun-totin’ chaplain to exorcise the boat of all it’s demons.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the garage have finally contacted home about Ernie. You may remember that a bars in my rear suspension snapped. Well, the garage agreed to hold on to Ernie until his MOT this week, saving Dad having to pick him up. W Jones have never been bad to me, and they have always contacted me if it was going to be a big job. Bearing in mind that the largest bill I have ever paid is £400ish, and the car is only worth £300-£400, you can understand how angree and annoyed I would be at W Jones calling my parents, and saying ‘It’s ready to be picked up, that will be £850 please’. They’ll be receiving a phone call on Monday morning from the United States…

This has been a really bad week, and I was very confident that I was heading for depression. But it is amazing how easy I am to cheer up. One of my friends took me to the local town for some latin American food (which was delicious by the way). Whilst we drove around, Jordan let me drive his Jeep Wrangler!!! Not only is it a small American 4 by 4, but it is also manual. It felt so good to drive automatic again!

Well, here’s hoping for a happier week…

If you knew the jib halyard wouldn’t hold, why not leave a comment saying that you are as knowledgeable as Tom.

If you didn’t know that the jib halyard would snap, why not leave a comment saying that you under estimated the curse of the Corpulent Porpoise.

Quote of the Week: ‘Yeah, we believe in God, Jesus, all that crap’ explained one staff member, as we discussed his faith in Roman Catholicism.

Week Two: Welcome back to Ockanickon!

Hey look, this post was delivered to you on time, thanks to the good people of Ockanickon Scout Reservation, Pennsylvania.

I have to start this post proper by announcing:

THE CORPULENT PORPOISE SAILS AGAIN!!!

After procrastinating for several days, on Wednesday, we finally launched our glorious Catalina 22 sailing boat, named ‘The Corpulent Porpoise’. Our beautiful brown 1970’s boat is now afloat again on Lake Nokamixon, ready to enthral Scouts in the art of sailing. Of course, the path to a floating sailing boat was not easy…

Monday was a day of cleaning and repairing. All of the little bits of wear and tear that had occurred over the Winter needed to be repaired. We also started off the season with the largest department this year, with more than 1000 staff members. Unfortunately, my competent assistant director Joe killed them all. Well, the ants and their nest were a bit of a nuisance. So, despite starting off with the largest department on camp, I now manage the smallest.

We were then hoping to launch on Tuesday. Unfortunately, we had to put some fancy stickers on the boat. Kind of like road tax rather than go faster stripes (not that they would help – nothing will make our boat go faster). So come Wednesday, we finally towed the boat to the lake. I had hoped that it would be a fairly simple affair. Regrettably, I had failed to take the Tom Leitz factor into account.

I freely admit that I didn’t know how to raise the mast of the boat, as I usually play with smaller boats. So, I relied on one of our Asst. Camp Directors who seemed confident that he knew what he was doing. WRONG!!! Mind you, it only took two attempts to raise the mast. After Joe and I had unwrapped the vital cables and lines that were needed.

Having said that though, we launched successfully, and the boat seemed to sail fine. One could almost sail beautifully. Almost. But we did dock with all the grace of an elephant on drugs. Yippee.

Alas, all did not make for a relaxed set-up week. Despite my multiple responsibilities at camp, someone has deemed me, rather bizarrely, as competent. And competency never goes unpunished. On top of being Sailing Director (now offered as part of our Adventure Sports Department) and one of our Commissioners (customer relations), I now also share ‘big brother’ responsibilities for the young staff members, supervise one building for medical check-in, and all round nice guy. Yet in spite if this, I’m still not allowed my own walkie-talkie! Well, I wouldn’t trust a British guy either.

This week, I have done lots of driving. I love driving, but all of these automatic US cars, just aren’t as good as Ernie. Who by the way is due his MOT soon, as well as other repair works. I hope he’s okay. Don’t get me wrong. As under-powered as these cars are, they do give me some freedom, and allow me to get about. Big thanks to Terry who often lends me his car.

Lastly, today has been the first day of camp. Scouts have finally arrived, and the fun really begins. The camp politics are out the window for a while, and I can get down to the business of teaching Americans how to sail. Woo hoo. I also feel the need to say that of the two (hi from Dave Senior ok I love all you UK people ttyl) And thanks for that Dave… anyways… Of the two Medical Recheck buildings, the building I ran didn’t get loads of complaints. I’m counting that as a win!

If you have a message for Dave Senior, a fellow director in Adventure Sports, why not leave a comment.

If you don’t have a message for Dave Senior, but may in fact like to leave a comment anyway, why not leave a comment.

Week One: Welcome back to America

Okay, I know I’m a little late posting, but I’m a busy guy again. This is the first time I’ve been able to sit down with my laptop, and I’m not even on the Internet! Right now I’m sitting in ‘Totem Lodge’ at Ockanickon Scout Reservation after a days hard work, trying desperately to type over the noise of people talking about rotten fish in broken freezers…

So what have I been up to this week. Well, first and foremostly, it would appear that I have arrived in Yankee-Doodle land again. I’m not sure how, but I think I got on a plane. Many of my American friends asked me how the trip was. I know that they are just trying to be polite, but what do they expect me to answer with? We were attacked by dragons mid-flight?

Of course my answer was ‘boring’. I still can’t quite understand how boring flying is. Why did people ever get excited about it? Yeah, yeah, I understand the whole against nature thing, but still – BORING! Although I do have to tip my hat to British Airways once again – superb service and a new entertainment system. It was amazing, I was able to use the entertainment system like BBC iPlayer or YouTube. Hundreds of movies when I wanted it. Despite all of this, they still wouldn’t let me drive!

So, I landed at Philadelphia Airport (I have to say that Newark was a nicer flight, and airport last year), and was told to expect one of the Asst. Camp Directors, Tom (he’s not the one that I went hand gun shooting with last year). I came out of international arrivals, and was expecting to find Tom looking grumpy waiting for me. What I was greeted with, was 8 of my colleagues from last year. Even Pat (the health officer), who I hadn’t expected to see. Most amazing arrival party ever! There’s the bar there Mum and Dad…

By the way, in between writing these paragraphs, I have had dinner, and carried out a rescue drill on the High Ropes course. It’s now 9.30pm.

After arriving in the US, what’s the first thing any normal person would do? (Apart from go through US Customs, and get suspected for being an illegal working immigrant) That’s right – go out and get some Mozzarella sticks! We stopped by a bar called Bennigans (Irish themed) and had drinks and a few snacks.

Since arriving, I have mainly spent my time doing that dreaded r word. Now, what is it again? Re- Re- Rela- Oh yeah, relaxing. It’s been terrible. I haven’t been able to do anything else but. Although having said that, I have found that I’m particularly good at the singing part of that Rock Band Game.

On Friday, I went with a couple of guys to a local theme park – Six Flags Great Adventure. If you have really good memories, you may remember that I visited this place before I left last year, but some of the rides were closed. One in particular I was really gutted about. Kingda Ka shoots you (using some sort of magnet system) at 128 mph into a vertical 450ft climb. The ride only lasts about 30 seconds, but the speed and the view were amazing. The car even began to shake as we neared top speed (just like the taking off in the Space Shuttle I would imagine).

I left a curious comment last week about driving a big ol’ American pickup. Unfortunately, the plan of borrowing a GMC High Sierra 4x4 Pickup has fallen through. My friend (and Asst. Camp Director) Terry is letting me borrow his Toyota. How about that for irony – I have travelled 3000 miles, and the car I am lent is just like a small European car. I guess that is why Terry gave me a 1st Class in driving in the US!

So with all of that in mind, I know launch whole heartedly into Camp Ockanickon’s summer season 2008. I guess, as it’s now 11pm on Tuesday, I have already launched, but I’ll leave those frustrations until next week. Yip-dee-do.

If you drive a big American truck, why not leave a comment saying how high you sit in the road.

If you drive a smaller car, why not leave a comment saying how good your petrol mileage is (or gas mileage if you are American).

But I have a good excuse

Yes, this post is several days late, but hey! I do have a reasonable excuse. I've flown to America!

Now, I don't want to give away all of the United States stuff (or I'll have nothing for next week), so I'm going to try and remember some things that I got up to last week. And I'm sure there was some good stuff, but I guess we'll just have to read on and find out.

Well, mostly this week, I have been getting ready to travel to America. Now, many of you might think that unsuprising, but how do you pack to live in another country for three months? With great difficulty, that's how! Although, I actually use a different method - leave it all to the last possible minute, and then hope for the best. Yes that's right boys and girls, my bags were packed at 1.14pm on Monday, ready to leave for the airport at 1.15pm. Woo, I rock.

But indispersed amongst the packing, and do paperwork to go, and everything else that is involved with leaving your life for three months, I did find time to do other stuff. Most ammusingly was Wednesday. For a variety of reasons, Mum and I had to move some stuff around. Such was this stuff, that Ernie, as amazing as he is, would not be big enough, and thus a van was required. So, unfortunately, I had to do a life long dream and ambition and - DRIVE A FORD TRANSIT!!!!!

Now, they (whoever 'they' are) say that you should never drive your dream car, because it will be a disappointment. If only I had listened... I would never have known the wonder that is a Transit Van! I guess the phrase just doesn't apply to vans. It was awesome (how many van drivers can say that about their van? Only Trasit drivers I'll bet)! A van that drives just like a big lumbering car. Brilliant.

After a whole day of bombing about in my short wheel based Transit (named Tony), I wasn't uncomfortable at all. I had enjoyed the day so much in fact, that when Michael and I went to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, guess what we took? That's right, a Short Wheel Based Transit. They even fit through McDonald's drive-thru's. When I had to return the van, I began to even contemplate trading in Ernie for a Transit. Y'all now how much I love my car, but that van was brilliant!

I know that I've spent alot of this post talking about vehicles, and that this post hasn't been very long, but I need to finish on news about Ernie. On Friday, I went out for lunch at McDonalds (I know, two in one week, but hey ho). On the way, we hit a pothole in the road, and we suddenly heard this metal clank, and grinding. I pulled over, and checked the exhaust. Nothing unusual. So I carried on, along the A27 at 60. But the steering tracking was WAY off. Then we hit a bump, and something definitely felt wrong. When I braked, the car pulled violently right. Oh dear.

So, for the first time since time began, Ernie had to be recovered. On a flatbed. Made worse still, by the idiot driving the flatbed. First off, the RAC sent a man in a Transit, who found the problem - a broken tie bar (part of the suspension). But he couldn't tow me. So an hour later, the flatbed turned up. The man jumped in my car, drove reclessly up the ramp, and didn't even close the door! Then, to add insult to injury, he only strapped one side of the car down.

Well, I've heard from the Garage (although with my iminent departure to the US, I didn't think I'd fond out), and amazingly they were able to get the parts from Ford. God bless W Jones. They are even going to take care of Ernie for a few weeks until the service and MOT. Bloody marvellous.

Well that's it. I'm off to eat lots of fatty fast food, drive a big 'ol pickup truck (more about that next week), and generally embrace the American culture. Yeehaw!

If you think that travelling to America is exciting, why not leave a message saying what you do to make the flight more enjoyable.

If you think that travelling to America is boring, why not leave a message saying that you find flying as dull as me.

Quote of the Week: 'Is that swing low sweet chariot?' I need to explain this. Sunday was Founder's Day for the Nautical Training Corps (I'd forgotten why I left before it last year) held at Portsmouth. After the service order was given out, one of the cadets asked me, 'It says here to sing the National Anthem. Which one?' To be fair that could have been the quote of the week, but after I said 'Our National Anthem' he then replied with the above. The British education system sure works well!

Please wait...

I'm busy flying to the US at the mo. If you're all good boys and girls, I might put a post up when I arrive. Check back on Tuesday!

Two week to post?

Sorry, it's the best double meaning title I could come up with.

I suppose that I had better cover the basics first - why was there no post last week? Well, firstly, I wasn't at home on Sunday of last week, I was camping with the good ol' Nautical Training Corps. Secondly, I didn't return until late Monday, by which point I had to get stuff ready to go away early Tuesday morning on a two day climbing course in Southampton. Lastly, since I got home on Wednesday, I have completed and handed in a 23 500 word portfolio for University. So all in all, I've had a busy one.

But, back to business. What have I been up to over the last two weeks? Unusually, I can remember some stuff. To start with, I helped out my middle school on some trips. On Monday, we all went by train (which was very exciting) to Chichester train station. From there, we walked up to our real destination for the day: Chichester Cathedral.

And that is about as exciting as I can make that sound. There were even some exciting activities like making Gargoyles. Yet some how, that activity was made to be as dull as humanly possible. So why, oh why, did I stab my self in the eye with a metaphorical fork, and go again on Wednesday? Arghh...

So, after a week of boredom, I landed in Friday, ready for a bank holiday long weekend camp. Of course, lots of exciting stuff happened at camp, and you can see some of those exploits in our new video on YouTube by clicking here. But as a brief front load, we had 14 cadets going, and Sturdy and a parent were helping with transport. Unfortunatly, when it comes to residential trips, it's not just children that need transporting - it's all of their kit too.

So, with that in mind, the Intrepid Box Trailer (which has now been named - wait for it, read on) needed towing. As usual, that responsibility fell to muggins here, and my trusty old Escort. And I don't mind telling you that it took all 1392 cc's of my little Escort's engine to get the heavy old trailer to Surrey. And yes, the speed dial does fall in proportion to the road's angle rising. I think at one point, from a 60 mph run up, we lost revolutions back down to below 30. It's alright though, apparently the Sturdy minibus was just as bad!

Huge thanks, by the way, to Graham, who helped us out of the mire. Muchos Gracias!

So, our trailer has finally got a name? At our first parade of the camp, we were laying down the ground rules. One of the cadets (if memory serves) was becoming a serial hands in pockets demon, so he needed a grounded realistic threat. So the obvious choice was to think Great Escape, and in our best German voice threaten 'Cooler! 20 days!'. Obviously we wouldn't lock kids in the Intrepid Box Trailer (or 'The Cooler') because that would be cruel.

Although, apparently, we would steal other officers classic cars, and attempt to run junior officers over. Winning the award for best Sunset Parade of the year, Stuart provided us with immense entertainment. I noticed one of Stuart's junior officers with his hands in his pockets. So I ran accross the parade field to point him out the error of his ways. He ran, but straight into Bungle's arms. Stuart getting ready for a comedy fight, paced towards the junior officer, just before seeing Ernie.

At this point, I should say that Ernie's engine was running in an attempt to charge one of my phones up. With no success. Anyway, Stuart stops walking towars the officer, and makes a beeline for my car. In he jumps, and the car disappears behind the minibus whilst it turns around. Then it comes onto the parade field, heading for the junior officer. Ernie's life flashes before my eyes, just as Stuart pulls up to a stop, an inch from the laughing junior officer. Flipping hillarious.

So, after camp (all many more interesting things going on), I travelled down to Southampton for a Climbing Course. It was a great course, and not just because it was mainly full of attractive young women. One of them even seemed to take a real interest in me. I almost left her my mobile number (and she really was an attractive 18 year old), when my common sense hit home again. I'm leaving for America in a few days, it would be a good three months before I would be able to see anyone again. Bugger.

And now this week, I have been feverishly working away at my laptop to get my placement portfolio done. I have to hand something into Univrsity to prove that I haven't just sat on my backside for 12 months and twiddled my thumbs. And just a short 23 500 word later (did I mention that already), by Saturday I was ready to panic about trying to get it spiral bound. Thanks once again to Graham for the lead on who might do it.

Lastly, I want to leave you with the same YouTube video as above, but with a different reason for watching it. Mum came back from holiday, and brought a great hat back with her. I have a habbit of wearing 'silly' hats, and this hat is quite special!

A rare picture of the amazingly strong Mr. Ginnaw, and myself at camp (as opposed to looking camp, which I am sure some of the lesss kind amongst you would say).

So, with Stuart and my sad knowledge of Indiana Jones, and inspired by the new movie, we set about recreating scenes. Of course, to avoid copywright problems, one of my senior cadets came up with something intelligent (amazingly). I present to you:

So, for your viewing pleasure, here is Walton Firs Camp, featuring Andiana Jones and the Camp of Doom.

If you have seen the new Indiana Jones movie, and you liked it, why not leave a comment.

If you have seen the new Indiana Jones movie, and didn't like it, firstly, you're an idiot (he's 65 years old), secondly, don't leave a comment.

If you haven't seen the new Indiana Jones movie (Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull) why not leave a comment saying how much you're looking forward to seeing it (like I am, when I go with Michael to see it on Wednesday WOO!).

Quote of the Week: 'No, she's just always standing in ditches when you see her' Graham replied, when Hannah asked if Chrissie (who is about 5ft tall) had a height problem. Other top answers included, no she wanted to be that height.

Quote of the week: (Well, I was away last week) 'Oh dear' sighed Gillian on Monday morning, 'I fear this is going to be a queer day' as we walked to the train station with 60 children on the way to Chichester Cathedral.

Tune of the Month: Raiders March. John Williams (it's the theme tune to Indiana Jones)

Yet more reasons not to own a GPS

Some of you may be aware of my loathin of GPS or SatNav systems. This weekend has afforded me more opportunitues to realise why...

11. The system is unable to read the road signs telling you that a road is closed (and if you manage to take some iniative, and divert the closed road, the GPS will then do it's damnedest to steer you back towards the closed road).

12. The GPS doesn't know where the nearest Pizza Hut is, despite thinking it does (we passed one on the way to the 'nearest' Pizza Hut).

13. The 'Browse Map' feature is almost impossible to read (even when you're used to working with maps).

14. GPS systems are tripe compared to a good ol' map.

15. When you stop at a service station, and take it with you the restaurant (which is a mistake anyway let it get stolen) you look like a nonse, as it will keep telling you to turn right in 100 yards.

And this was the news that I went with my friend Michael to Fiest In The Park, in Huntingdon Race Couse. It's basically a car show based on people's love of Ford Fiestas (and there were about 1300 cars there), but other Ford models are welcomed too. So Michael and I went up there in his newest Ford Escort Cabriolet Mk IV. That would be his third this year (largely due to bad luck, and unreliability).

The day started out a bit moist and cold (I wasn't expecting the moist part - hence after a short bike ride to Michael's I had moist trousers around the shins - delightful). At Thurrock Services (where they have never heard of an early morning cooked breakfast - as everything was closed) it was as cold as a Polar Bear's ding dong. But by the time we arrived in Huntingdon, just after 8am (having left at 5am - ouch) it was a beautiful sunny day. Having misinterpreted the weather again, I didn't take any sun cream. This has left me able to do my lobster impression...

It was a good day, although it did start to drag on towards the end (when alot of the cars were leaving). I really enjoyed wondering around the show, and looking at the cars. However, despite the 1300 Fords on display, I only found two cars that were anywhere near the same colour as Ernie. And when I asked the owners, they said that their colour was Inca - not Champagne Gold like my beautful Ford Escort 1.4 GL Estate. So there we go - yet more proof that Ernie is very special.

And I can't finish this weeks post without mentioning the SATs exams that I helped out with. There you go, I mentioned it.

Oh yeah, and this post was a day late. You'll get over it. (Thanks to Bev who noticed)

If you like Ford Fiestas, why not leave a comment saying that you wish you owned an Escort.

If you don't like Ford Fiestas, why not leave a comment saying that you do/ have owned as Escort.

Quote of the Week: 'CONDENSATION!' shouted the child I was helping in his SATs, in the middle of the exam room, with 7 other students, as he tried desperatly to remember the opposite to evaporation.

I guess I look younger when I'm sailing

First off the bat, clearly no one appreciates the fact that I missed parts of Indiana Jones last week. Not only did I miss some of one of the greatest films of all times, but none of you beggers could be arsed to leave a chuffin' comment. Well cheers for that!

Well, this has been a slightly more eventful week. I usually like to keep my audience in suspense about my post titles, and today is no different. Even though my cryptic title does stem from a story from early in my week, you'll just have to wait.

The main excitement this week was provided by yet another visit to the Accident & Emergency department of Worthing Hospital (which I am pleased to say, has been saved). Yes, an ambulance was used, and yes, so was Ernie. But, for reasons of me ever speaking to the person again, I can't say who or why we went to A&E. What I can say, is that the casualty was very drunk that evening, although they had sobered up a little by the time we got to Hospital, at just after midnight.

Just three short hours later (which we spent watching three late night medical staff watch us, watch them, watch us... you get the idea) we were finaly seen by a doctor. The doctor decided that it was an overnight job, before deciding half an hour later it might not be. He said that he would like to see the result of the blood count, and if that was alright, we could all go home.

I've gotta tell you, Worthing Hospital must be able to employ someone else, other than 'The Count' from Sesame Street, to count blood. Well, the amount of time it took for the blood count, it seemed only possible for The Count to trawling slowly through individual cells: 'One blood, ah, ah, ahh... Two blood, ah, ah, ahh...' If you have no idea what I'm talking about, more fool you.

Anyways, it took the doctor an hour an a half to come back with results. We think that he went on a break. The doc cleared us to leave, and so we left. The more observant amongst you, will have realised that that makes the time 5 am by the time we left. I've never driven home after a night out in the daylight before. I didn't even need full headlights!

Which brings us nicely to Saturday. I have to ask, what is wrong with me? In the afternoon, the family were invited to a neighbour's for a garden party (congratulations Chris on the new job). It was a reasonable enough party, just not really my scene. Full of parents, chatting about 'parenty stuff', and young children. Of course mum was in her element.

Having failed in that environment, you would think I would be much more comfortable where I started off my evening. For the last few weeks I've been helping to instruct some sailing classes at a local sailing club. One of the young attractive female instructors had her birthday this week. She invited me to join her and her friends in celebrating her birthday on Saturday evening. Where do most young attractive females like to celebrate their birthday? Night clubs of course.

I have to say, that I always find 'nights out' to club like places facinating. First off, people always seem really happy, nay elated that I have 'gone out'. Why? I don't get drunk, I don't get rowdy, I don't dance, I'm not exactly the life and soul of the party, and all I'm able to do is make glib remarks that no one can hear. Furthermore, nothing exciting ever happens when 'I'm out'. It's like I'm a walking human dull magnet. Answers on a postcard please...

So, I got in a round of drinks (a first for me - but I am a gentleman after all), and endured 90 minutes, until I had to leave. So tell me, oh wise CATCOUK readers - what is wrong with me? I don't fit in with the usual social habbits of people my own age, or people older than me (although I am partial to drinks and chatting at a pub). To be honest, if someone asks me out to celebrate their birthday, I'll always go to the bar, but I don't usually go on to a club afterwards. Is it any wonder I don't meet women?

Which brings us neatly back around to the title. It's a known fact, that most people (old or young) over-guess my age. The current record is 36 (and I was 18 at the time!). But a few weeks back, one of the kids wouldn't believe that I was instructor. He believed I was 15 or 16. And earlier on this week, said young attractive female instructor said that she thought I was 18 or 19. So, I guess I must just look younger when I'm sailing.

And on that bombshell, and with Family Guy on TV, it's time to say good night.

If you think that I look older than I am (21 by the way), why not leave a message saying that you have never seen me sailing.

If you think that I look younger than I am (21 by the way), why not leave a message saying that you have only ever seen me sailing.

Quote of the Week: 'Do you want your ambulance now, or later' I asked the drunk person. As it turned out, they wanted it later on.

I hope you appreciate that I'm missing Indiana Jones for this...

Good evening/ afternoon/ morning/ other (please state) ____________________

Once again, another busy week of rolling out of bed at 9, watch a bit of M*A*S*H*, followed by some Stargate action. Yes, my mornings aren't exactly bristling with activity.

I had my trailer (Bernie the battleship) home this week, to make add a few minor upgrades. I have now replaced the wooden block and hooks that were temporary measures a year ago (they lasted well), and I now have some shiuny metal ones instead. I have also put some new rear light clusters on the trailer. That shockingly means that I now have road legal lights - that actually work! Amazing!

But once again, the most exciting parts of my week fall back on my weekend. Saturday was very exciting. First mum and I went and got lunch. Then after an afternoon of heavy TV watching, we managed to go and run a shuffleboard evening in the name of Lancing & Sompting Lions club. It doesn't really matter what a shuffleboard evening is, all you need to know is that is raises money. Well, on Saturday night, takings were down a little (in aid of MacMillan Cancer Support). So I told them that the club would pay the remaining £62 to make it up to £200. With no senior lion there, I didn't really have permission to do this. I haven't told the club yet...

But the real excitement of my week has been today. It was another NTC kayak training day, in the delightful waters of Chichester Canal Basin. That's right, everything you need to catch just about any water based disease going: litter, rusting barges, overgrown weeds, and the ever pleasant floating dead birds (no really, it's true). Oddly enough though, the water still tastes nice and fresh.

To get to the canal, we first had our usual fiasco of how to get all the cadets there. At TS Intrepid, we do have one minor problem - about a million cadets, and only muggins here (thus one car) going. I know that I had hinted at this before, but I feel that I do need to restate my position once again:

WE NEED A CHUFFING MINIBUS!!!!!!!

15 cadets in one car does not go! When will anyone listen to me? I know that Ernie is an amazing car, but when will anyone realise, that amazing as Ernie is, he is no TARDIS, and no, he is not bigger on the inside, than he is on the outside.

Having said that, I did get to play with some new toys today. Firstly, I was finally allowed to tow the new TS Intrepid box trailer. £2,500 worth of Ivor Williams trailery goodness. And it was really good as well. Lovely to tow along, brilliant to reverse. Not to mention the oodles of cargo space. Big enough in fact, to carry the second of the new toys we were playing with.

(I'm now missing brand new Family Guy as well. I hope you're happy now.)

Our fleet of 6 new Tek Sport 240 kayaks (with all the fixings). And they did great. Really good fun, and I thinks the kids really enjoed them as well.

Having had a great day (thanks to TS Sturdy, and their instructors), we all got changed, dried off, and we were gathered around the big trees chatting. Thanking Graham and Julie for their hard work, and looking forward to seeing them next time yadda yadda ya. When suddenly (pause for dramatic effect) we heard some tyres screeching, as a car came to a sudden stop. Many of us we ready to start jumping in to save people, but the learner driver had managed to stop their red Vauxhall Corsa before landing it in the canal.

Oddly enough, the car had stopped at a funny angle, and it stayed that way for sometime. As we stood on the opposite bank of the canal, laughing at them, making comments about whether they had Buoyancy Aids, a police car pulled out gently from the police station up the road, casually put on his blue flashing lights, and parked up behind the car, that nearly did it's best impression of a submarine. If the almost crash hadn't scared the poo poo out of the learner driver, then the friendly policemen stepping out of the car, menacingly putting on their hats certainly did.

And as if that wasn't enough excitement for one day, when I returned home, there was a serious situation in progress. So seroius, fire engines were rushing up the road, with lights flashing, sirens wailing. Of course they were nothing to do with us, but it was a scary situation. The Montecat had escaped! I don't think that I have ever mentioned the Montenator in a post, but Monty is our cat. He is a bit like the Mr. T of the cat world. He weighs 18 pounds (which is an awful lot for a cat), and he rarely gets into a fight (because he just stares at other cats, and they think better of it). Anyways, the Monster had escaped!

At the back of out house is a 10ft fence (to keep El Montenaro caged). At dinner time, he was nowhere to be found (very unlike him). After some investigation, and a ladder later, Dad found him on the otherside of the fence, miaowing, unable to scale the fence (as I said, he's a heavy cat). So, we dispatched two cars to the factory unit next door (Ian and Mum, and I followed them, as I had just got home). We evnentually got him into a cat box, but we were ready with the high powered tranqulizer rifles. For the safety of the public...

Well that's it from me. There was one other amusing moment this week, but I can't tell you what it is. Well, maybe if you ask me nicely...

If you have nearly crashed into a canal, why not leave a comment, telling us what a crap driver you are.

If you have never nearly crashed into a canal, why not leave a comment, telling us that you've never lived.

Quote of the Week: 'I wonder what colour their underwear is now' said one parent, about the people in the car that nearly ploughed into the canal.

Song of the Month: Cops and Robbers. The Hoosiers. (I really love this band - I even have their album!)