In the mid seventies, I was an avid ten pin bowling player, belonging to two leagues.
My ball weighed in at fourteen pounds, I had my own shoes and a personal locker set me back £5 a year.
The team I played for came third in the league, and my partner and I were runners-up in the mixed doubles.
With a maximum score of 300 available, my best ever game was 265.
I tended to throw a Brooklyn strike (a curve ball coming across the lane to hit the One pin side on), but if I hit the pin dead centre, I was nearly always left with a 7 – 10 split.
I have only known one person actually hit both pins to score a ‘spare’ by rolling the ball tight along the side with sufficient force to clip the 10 pin and knock it sideways to take out the 7.
When I got married and hurt my back, my ten pin bowling days were more or less over.
That was until we bought the boat and now we play on the water.
As we hadn’t started the engine since we returned from Stratford Upon Avon on the 18th July, we took the boat out today but shortly after clearing the marina entrance, we were soon in the midst of half a dozen sail boats going in all directions.
The rule of the water is to keep to the right, unless you are a sail boat and then you just make it up as you go along. We had no choice but to reduce our already slow speed, sound our (new) horn, and just hope no-one hit us.
Hubby took the tiller and we played ’roundabout’, letting them all go round us rather than try a direct line through them.
Further up river, we noticed a group of rowers getting ready to take to the water, and as we were only going to be out for about an hour, knew we would meet up with them on the way back.
I turned the boat round just under the motorway bridge, feeling sorry for those above us in camper vans and touring caravans rushing off on their holidays or perhaps coming home. We had seen little on the river since the sailing club, and didn’t have to rush anywhere!
Sure enough though, on the return journey, there were 8 rowing boats in the water, and one rower asked us which side of the river we were supposed to be on! When I said the right, she said ‘Oh. Not like driving then.’
We hit round two of the sailing club , and it was even worse than going up.
Not because there were more boats, but because two had decided to stop mid river and have a chat, one was practicing playing chicken in front of bigger vessels (cruisers) either by design or error, and another was so intent of keeping out of our way, they went nose first into the reeds!
Again slowing our speed and allowing them all plenty of room, Hubby had to keep to the left, sounding our horn to let them know we were coming through, and luckily nobody tried to do anything clever.
We thanked them as we passed, then Hubby turned into the marina and moored up.