In 1914 he was serving onboard HMS Pegasus off Zanzibar, in the early months of the war, and found himself on the wrong side of some shrapnel from the Koenisberg; which wounded him, and eventually sank the Pegasus. Note, he still had the shrapnel in him when he died in 1972.
Honourably discharged he joined the Merchant Navy, and spent the rest of that war in the convoys. He was once spotted in civvies one day by a particularly daft female, who gave him a white feather (the symbol of cowardice); he wore it in his hat for the rest of the war.
You can imagine how "pleased" he was to find, in 1939, that he would have to go through the whole nonsense again. He was still in the Merchant Navy and ended up in the convoys again, this time my father was also drafted into the convoys (he had just turned 16 when the war broke out).
You see folks Britain, being an island nation, has strong connections with the sea.
Now why am I boring you with this mini potted history of my family?
Let me see, oh yes I remember.
Earlier this week it was reported that the crew of the Golden Vanity, a restored Brixham trawler, had to quit the Tall Ships Race.
Sailing north through the Bay of Biscay from La Coruna to Antwerp, the crew of 16 to 25 year old volunteers became seasick and gave up!
My grandfather would be turning in his grave, and my father (who is still alive) will regale me with his views on the matter tomorrow when we go out for my mum's birthday.
Nanny has turned our young men and women into spineless selfcentered wimps.