rs2543 - Surrey Hash House Harriers

The Runday Shag

Issue 2543

Date: 13 October 2024

Hares: Bluesuit & SBJ

Venue: Brockham

On On: The Taphouse

FLIGHTS OF ANGELS SING THEE TO THY REST

Low Profile was a pure gemstone where the rest of us are at best rough diamonds, of merely industrial quality, abrasive, even aggressive in our humour, while he was mild and courteous. One of our greatest poets, also gentle and self effacing, wrote: “This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond/ Is immortal diamond”. Rest in peace, dear friend.

We have hashed often, even recently, in the Brockham area, but SBJ and Blue Suit managed to make this trail largely original, taking us quite a long way south. Chastity Belt declined the honour of being Checking Chicken, so Bigfoot took over, combining this role with solving many of the checks. It was he who at the start found where the flour began, some considerable distance from where our GM was addressing us. He did not contribute to the most difficult solution, where the trail turned back north at last; this solution must have been almost half a mile from the check circle, surpassing a record set by Olive Oyl in Fetcham many decades ago. (Both were back-checks, wouldn’t you guess?) All credit to stalwarts such as Veggie Queen and Bonn Bugle, who pressed on gamely till they came upon flour. (The rest of us, in their wake, were reassured to see SBJ following us with some visitors). CL deserves mention here: he checked in quite the wrong direction for a very long way, but still caught us up.

Vera Vomit was with us today, and shared my surprise when at the end of a very long muddy field, with somebody (too far to be recognised) visibly checking confidently in a plausible direction, Bigfoot came sprinkling flour towards the south once more. But we believed him, and indeed some distance further the trail turned to take us back to Brockham. It was already after 1230 when on the outskirts of the village the main trail diverged from an offered short-cut, which proved to resume and re-gain the original trail past Brockham church. I took this offer, finding myself with Blue Suit shepherding those who had accepted the earlier short-cuts, whereas J. Arthur manfully stuck to authentic flour. In fact I came back to Brockham Green just as Miss Bean and Spud (with of course the ubiquitous Bigfoot in tow) arrived at the completion of the main trail.

A recent ITV programme about British soldiers murdering a girl in Kenya attracted exactly zero advertisements; commerce prefers glitz and glamour to guilt. The usual breaks just briefly promoted forthcoming programmes. For that matter the recent serial “Tom Jones” drew in very little advertising; companies must have thought that those likely to watch were unlikely to buy the wares on offer. Sex romps in the 18th century apparently appeal less than today’s. And while I am on “Tom Jones”, you will have noticed that no dramas today ever display an all-white cast, which is not unreasonable in modern Britain, if a little over-emphatic, but 250 years ago? The same convention applied, and the script re-modelled Sophie Western as descended from a Jamaican slave, thus making nonsense of the social gap between Tom, a bastard, and the well-born Sophie. Obscenities in television come thick and fast, tediously so, but you will never hear a whisper of racial insults. We keep a sense of proportion though; violent racist rioters recently received less severe sentences than non-violent climate protesters [YMMV…]. You can feel the dislike of new ideas: hostility to outsiders is found in all societies, but new ideas, like global warming, are unsettling, unwelcome. Prison awaits!

On On, FRB

A Jolly On The River

Let’s forget the promised charabanc mystery tour, we will instead, decided our JM, WRNS Chundy, go for a cruise. So a vessel was chartered, the iron clad M/V Cinatit [seen a tit?], a Captain appointed, Captain Keel-Over, a First Mate selected, Able Seaman Stains. Our cruise would commence at Farncombe and passage to the northern extremities of Surrey, and back again.

Our Captain was tasked with formulating a passage plan which would allow twenty invited guests to sail on a vessel not permitted to take more than ten and still be able to enjoy the delights of cruising in Surrey. A plan so fiendishly complicated that few of our passengers could make head nor tail of it. However, within those legal limits, it was achieved, more or less!

The day of the cruise [12th October] did not start well. The Captain had to carry out emergency repairs on his uniform, sewing the gold braid back on, the commissioning officer at the port demanded £150 deposit against any wrong-doing or damage and also a list of passengers. Knowing this could not exceed ten souls and knowing that the returning passengers would bear no resemblance both in looks or names to the outgoing, Able Seaman Stains reluctantly handed it over in the certainty that he would lose his deposit.

After a brief briefing and ABS Stains poor attempt at achieving a three point turn on M/V Cinatit, our selected nine passengers boarded. Dr Death our tenth passenger had gone AWOL, so with no means of communicating with him, we set sail.

Now our Captain, knowing the port officials might take exception to a booze cruise, only a selection of fine wine was ostentatiously taken on board at the port, The REAL alcohol was arranged to be loaded at Shalford Bridge, further downstream, driven there by WRNS Chundy in the Bongo. This, together with food supplies, provided by our appointed caterer WRNS Bungle, was loaded on board. Unfortunately, the food had been ordered for the following week, but our intrepid Wren soon sorted it out after some frantic shopping. So, at Shalford Bridge the M/V Cinatit was fully supplied, a full passenger change and a latecomer, Dr Death, joined the party.

We steamed on to Millmead in Guildford where a picnic lunch was planned. To get there were three major obstacles in our way on the Wey. The gates on all three locks were barred but with much throwing of ropes, winding up or down of lock paddles, pushing open or closing lock gates, our passengers and crew managed it all, [with not too much shouting].

All passengers gathered on the banks of the Wey for a picnic, those ten that had walked the towpath from Shalford had arrived before M/V Cinatit, some having to be prised out of the pub. But our schedule was tight, so another crew change and back on board and onward to our next destination, The Row Barge.

The Landlady of the Row Barge did not take kindly to us using her outside tables to drink our alcohol and eat the leftovers from our picnic, so despite the Captains soothing words to her, we were back on board and just in time to shelter from a monsoon downpour. Another crew change and we were homeward bound, next stop Guildford.

Guildford was the departure port for our earlier joining passengers, so they were homeward bound, and the depleted crew left to sail south to Farncombe, repeating the outward journey. A brief stop at Shalford Bridge for our last crew change and to unload leftover supplies and we were bound for our last port, Farncombe. But our schedule was tight, would we be there by 17.30 or be charged a late penalty fee? There was no need to worry, with our well lubricated Captain now at the helm, we glided serenely into our berth with seven minutes to spare.

So, no damage, no sinkings, no drownings, deposit returned; a great day out enjoyed by most. A big thank you to WRNS Chundy, WRNS Bungle and Captain Keel-Over for organising the event.

Able Seaman Stains [alias J Arthur]

Editorial

Sadly we bid farewell to another stalwart of Surrey Hash, David Bruggen (Lo Profile), a true gent with a beautiful smile.

He’d already survived breaking his neck in his 80s at an exuberant SH3 weekend. On 22 September his beloved First On co-hared an excellent trail in Ockley and they then headed for a break in Spain. At the end of the week he broke his hip and spent a few days in hospital where he slipped away in his sleep.

Safe journey on on, Dear Friend.