Para-Handy!

School Days - Revisited!

I was reading Scary Duck's story of yesterday, and it reminded me of my own schooldays. I didn't really enjoy school, was never interested in learning stuff about Maths and English and crap like Geometry or Technical Drawing. I was always more interested in football, or computer games (the old ZX Spectrum was my favourite!) and breaking windows accidentally. But more of that later…..

Anyway, I was speaking to 1970's Ian last night after work, and we had a right good laugh about former teachers and stuff.

I used to have a teacher at the High School who we all called 'Para Handy', and he taught 'Navigation'. Now, this is a skill that can only be used at sea, so would only serve people who would go on to join the Navy or those who would join the fishing fleet. So quite rightly no one took any notice whatsoever of the teachings of old Para Handy!

It was a tradition that every year Para Handy would take the class out for a boating trip around the harbour and along the beachfront in his trusty old 18-foot rowing boat.
No matter how many boys were in his class, be it 8 or 28, they all had to pile into this monstrosity of a rowing boat and paddle out into the treacherous Atlantic Ocean (with the water literally inches from spilling over into the boat), where the seas can coup a trawler without warning.

And we had no hint of a life jacket or survival suit! There was one of those big red and white rubber ring type things (Crikey, I can't remember what they're called!) that they throw into the water for you to cling onto. (Got it - Lifebelts!) Goodness knows what would have happened if two lads had gone overboard?

(Well actually, I do know what would have happened - one lad would have drowned within 3 minutes, the other lad would have been hospitalised with severe hypothermia, the school would have been prosecuted and after the inevitable 'Inquiry' would have consequently closed down the school forever, and all the local kids would've had to travel 40 miles just to get to and from school every day. Not to mention the overcrowding at the alternative school…..)

Anyway, it was our turn to go out in the 'boat', and we all trooped down to the harbour with Mr Handy, and upon seeing the aforementioned 'boat', half of the boys decided "I'm not getting into that thing, even if it is filled to the top with 6th year girls without their blouses on" and promptly buggered off back to school (or the Prinny Café for a couple of hours!)

This left 12 of us to venture out into the stormy Firth.

We all clambered in, and took an oar each. And away we paddled.

There was no chanting or cracking of whips, but slowly we managed to build up a rhythm and began to make progress. Soon, we'd be out into the wild bouncy ocean.

All of a sudden, Para Handy shouted from the back of the boat "OK Lads, that's enough, time to head back!".

We were flabbergasted! We hadn't even left the harbour! There was no salty spray on our cheeks (…eh?), and our curiosity at the sight of those huge waves crashing onto the shore was sadly unquenched.

Looking back now, it was obvious what had happened. Para Handy had shit himself with fear at the idea of 12 young boys going to sea in an 18-foot rowing boat, especially when he'd noticed that the sea was not in a particularly forgiving mood.

So, back to school we went, slightly damp and more than slightly annoyed. We wanted to row to Orkney! And back again!

The trouble was that Navigation never got more interesting than this, and for many other pupils even this type of excursion wasn't very interesting. Subsequently, Navigation has seemed to slip from the national curriculum, and poor old Para Handy is now happily retired (or dead. I don't know).

The best thing was that the lads who had bunked off to the Prinny got solid hell from the Deputy Rector when they turned up back at school late, and suspiciously dry!

Anyway, I'm sure the whole adventure helped us all in our careers in the Navy.

Or not.