Pat M
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Quest for the Canvey Loop!22 July. Canvey Island. - Arriving on Canvey for the first time and it seems true what I've heard. It's a warm sunny place with panaramic views of Benfleet, Hadleigh Downs. A salty sea breeze tickles my nose as I wonder the town. As I amble about the shops a stranger approaches me. 'You look like a man in search of something,' he said.
A little surprised by this I responded. 'Indeed I am, Sir. This little Island is an ultra runners paradise and I'm searching for the Canvey Loop!'
'Why this is Canvey alright. I should know as I've lived in Benfleet all my life which is but a stones throw away. And never a finer Island is there anywhere in the world. But on my soul I never did hear of the Canvey Loop!'
I was a little surprised by his not knowing and there was something in his tone which didn't ring true. 'Well I assure you it exists, Sir, and I am quested to find it.' He pondered this a moment before his whole demeanor changed, becoming very abrupt. 'Then try the library!,' and pointing it out with a gnarly finger he stormed away.
I had no luck with the librarian either and so took to perusing the shelves. A book, sticking out a little further from the others, caught my eye. The title read, The quest for the Canvey Loop! I opened it but the pages were blank, so I flipped through and just when I thought the whole book empty some writing caught my attention on the very last page. As I begun reading the librarian snapped the book shut and placed it back on the shelf. 'The library is closing, Sir. Good-bye.'
'Are you sure you've never heard of the Canvey Loop!,' I asked, but without replying she ushered me out. It seems the people of Benfleet have spies on this Island and are determined I do not discover the Canvey Loop!, but I'm resolved to return tomorrow and read that last page!..........
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Mike Mason
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about bloody time too................Muldoons search for the Canvey Loop... aholy grail like quest has started.....
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Jez
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Harry Potter eat your heart out!!
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mikey
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MM1
As a fellow resident of GORC, I must warn you about giving credence to the quest for the Canvey Loop.
Many a good runner has been lured onto Canvey through the promise of “Kiss me Quick” hats, and the sweet smell of Candy Floss. This is but a thin veneer hiding a far more sinister, if not corrupt society.
Yes the Seafront seems civilized enough, but venture away from the bright lights, and you’re soon in the bad lands. Where the sea fog rolls in across stagnant mud flats, and the dredges of society await to ensnare the decent folk of the mainland.
Far better to stick to the high ground of the Leigh Loop, where you can have panoramic views across the whole of Canvey, whilst never having to step foot on the Island.
Be warned ….
At best the Canvey loop is folly
Further pursuit of it could seriously damage your metal well being
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Stu
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Perhaps if Canvey gets too bad it will need it's own prison 
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mikemoreton
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Cant they just cut the road off, give the islanders oars, and tell em to 'Go Paddle'?
(just a thought)
Anyhow Pat, it makes good reading. Also, dont type too fast as I am a slow reader
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Pat M
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23 July. - I slept fitfully last night. As I slumbered I thought I heard rustlings and creeks in the room I am lodging in, but although I awoke I could see nothing and put it down to dreams and the first night in a new town.
I spent the morning wondering the town again but the people of Canvey seem queer to me. They shy away at my approach as though gripped by some terrible fear.
After a wonderful lunch in the Oysterfleet Inn (Mem., the fare here was so energizing it would keep an ultra runner fuelled for weeks!) i headed straight for the library. As i neared a voice called from the shadows. 'Are you the seeker of the Loop?', she whipered. I said i was and suddenly a veiled figure stepped briskly out of the shade, looked about nevously then said. 'We must be careful, for they are everywhere.' When I asked who she retreated into the shadows. 'Do you go now to the library?' I said she was correct. 'Then beware the librarian, for she is the guardian of the Loop Book.' This shocked me, for she was the first to acknowledge its existence and i asked what she new of the Loop? 'The Loop is no more, it has been taken. They search, and if it is found they will destroy it to prevent its use. But it is safe, for now.'
I couldn't hide my annoyance any longer and said. 'What nonsense! How can a loop be taken? And who would want it?' She became very angry at this and pointing said. 'Go see for yourself! Follow the trail that is no more.' Then she looked at me curiously. 'And what is your interest in the Loop?' Taking a deep breath i said with obvious pride. 'I am from the McMurphy's book of World Ultra Records! And if the Canvey Loop is as wonderful as i've heard then it will be entered into McMurphys as the best ultra loop in the world! This startled her some and she said. 'Then you are the one to find the Loop and return it to our Island. But there are those that would stop you. You must take care for they know you are here.' When I asked again who she fell into the most awful dithering before saying............'The Benfleet snobby wobbies...........Now go to the seawall! See for yourself Then she made the sign of the cross and fled down the street!
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Ernie
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Pat- See what happens when you accuse Hockley people of being "Yuppies"
ps "here we go loopy lou"
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Pat M
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Later: I arrived at the Labworth Cafe on the seawall. (Mem for McMurphys., The Cafe is a glorious piece of architecture and would make a wonderful refreshment spot for Ultra runners on the Loop. (Unless it's a night loop in which case it will be shut!))
On inspection the ground revealed a depression several inches deep and a good yard wide running parallel to the wall in either direction. I followed it for a while and noticed a curious line of small holes in the earth mabye four strides apart, and I noted that where the ground was soft some of the holes were complemented by two larger V-shaped depressions a little bigger than my hand, and beside these a much larger depression maybe five feet across. But the most curious thing of all was the odour which hung most saline in the air. There was the unmistakable smell of Marmite! I could make nothing of it but jotted these irregularities down in the back of my McMurphy's diary. After several miles I stopped and scanned ahead. The missing trail ran on as far as I could see. It did indeed seem that someone had stolen the Canvey Loop! With my curiosity piqued I knew I needed to get back to the library at once and read that book!
I approached the library at 4.55pm and saw the librarian watching me through the window. Just as I got to the door she smiled sweetly, then shut and barred it! I observed her name tag through the glass. Mrs. Debbie Smith. Well Mrs. Smith I shall be back tomorrow at five minutes before nine!
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Pat M
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Not sure I want to do this! It was a knee jerk reaction to a bloody boring Sunday. (Karl, keep your comments to yourself! lol)
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Mike Mason
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Class Pat...I await the next episode eagerly...........
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Karl C
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quest for the canvey loopy more like....
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Pat M
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26 July: The library shutters came up at 9.00am sharp. I stood with my nose pressed to the galss and Mrs. Smith jumped back with a start. I hardly recognized her for she had the cunning of a chameleon, disguising herself today as a brunette but when last I saw she was most definitely a blonde! And she was dressed in full running attire (Cropped top, low cut bottoms, bare midriff!) with her abs flexed and bulging at me menacingly. I smiled sweetly as she had done the day before. (Mem to self., must work on my churlishness!) She opened the door but stood blocking the way. I moved right, so did she. I moved left, she countered. I fainted right, moved left but she was ahead of me. Like an American footballer I started quick stepping on the spot, shoulders hunched, pirouetted to distract her then dropped to my knees and crawled between her legs. She fell for it! Without hesitating I moved straight to the shelf where I'd found the Loop Book but to my horror it was gone! I spun on my heel and caught the Guardian of the Loop Book, Mrs. Smith, behind her counter snickering. My blood began to boil!
I moved around the library, checking shelf after shelf. No luck! I could hear Mrs. Smith giggling like a school girl in the background, no doubt her big white nashers glinting dangerously. (Mem to self., must get some tooth whitener.) It was then an old woman seated in the corner waved me over, all the while her keen eyes darting about nervously. 'Are you the seeker of the Book?', she asked peering over the top of her novel. I nodded. 'I know where to seek,' she said...............
McMurphy Junior crawls between the Guardian's legs.
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Mike Mason
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Karl, check out if the 'caring club - my arse' could get syndication rights for the ramblings of a psychotic....starting with the Evening Echo and working our way to the Wall St Journal......
rgds
Mike
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Ranger
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All was not as it should be in the northern realm of GORC.
Ripples of malcontent have been spreading across the land, and they have now reached the majestic forests of Gorc. It is said the Dark Lord has once again taken cyber form, and is prowling the southern dependency of Canvey.
Dressed from head to foot in black, save only for the distinctive Creamy White top to his floppy hat (complete with green leaf motif), and the highly polished brass buckles on his shoe’s. To the untrained eye he would be all but invisible. But we have trained eye’s, to compliment our trained bodies. His presence has been detected. More over his purpose is known……. To resurrect the ancient southern loop of evil
This is not news to us, for it has been foretold through legend’s and myth’s passed down from Gorkish farther, to Gorkish son, For over a millennium the stories have been told ,so that come our time of need …….We would be ready
The time of reckoning has arrived ….. But we do not fear this .
For we have not been idle whist the dark lord slept.
Let the Loop Wars Begin
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mikey
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At last a true hero of Gorc has emerged to challenge "The Dark Lord"
Was fearing I was about to choke on cobwebs reading this thread
Good luck Ranger, in your battle to become
"Champion Of The Loops"
Regards
Mikey
PS
Do you have a fan club ?
Is it true you can clear reasonably sized dwellings in a single bound ?
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Ernie
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Men of GORC and Canvey, my brothers ! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.
A day may come when the courage of Men fails ... when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship ... but not this day.
An hour of wolves and shattered shields when all hope comes crashing down, but it is NOT this day! This day , we fight! For all that you hold dear, stand ,Men of the West! and fight for for my biscuits !
-MM1 at the Black Gate, Hockley Woods Car Park
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Pat M
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Later: I sat looking into that old lined face and asked her who she was? 'Is the coast clear?' she asked me. I stood and noted that Mrs. Smith was lying on top of her counter doing abdominal crunches with a copy of The McMurphy's Book of World Ultra Records held behind her head. I told her that all was well and so she began. She told me she was Grandma Mcquire, but I could call her Caroline. I begged her to tell me where to look but she seemed agitated, peering this way and that. 'First,' she said, 'you must tell me who you are, for there are many spies about?' I told her I was McMurphy Junior, seventeenth generation. That my ancestor Mile-o McMurphy had run the first known ultra and recorded it in his diary. He became so obsessed by ultras that he found out all there was to know and published The McMurphy's Book of World Ultra Records just before he died. I assured her I was a friend and had only good intentions for the Canvey Loop. 'I have the book with me,' she said, 'the guardian moved it to the ''you'll never find it here'' section, which is a bookcase filled with a jumble of books by different authors in different genres filed indiscriminately in an attempt to be deliberately confusing. I found it none the less.' Suddenly a look of surprise crossed her face. I followed her gaze to a nearby bookcase, which had books missing on the top and middle shelves, and spying on us through the upper space was Mrs. Smith, her white nashers grinding. And peering at us more menencingly from the middle shelf were her flexed and ripped abdominals. I felt the hairs rise on my arms! She frowned at us, she sneered at us, she tensed and flexed those abs at us. Then she stormed off in a huff to guard the door. It was then that brave old wrinkly Grandma passed me the book!................
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Pat M
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The book: I opened the book and flipping through the pages showed Grandma that it was empty barr the last page. She told me this was because the quest had not yet been undertaken, that they awaited the arrival of the Loopy, the one who's journey would fill in those blank pages. Uncertain, I asked why it was that none of the men of the Island had searched for the Loop?, and she responded by telling me this. 'It will be an outsider who will return the Loop to the Island. For Island runners are bound by the laws of the Federation, which at present is run by the snobby wobbies. If an Island runner is found questing he will suffer a fate worse than death itself. He will be forced to take part in the Ritual of Humiliation.' With furhter pressing she told me what this was. 'The Ritual is a stroll on Benfleet Downs called the Benfleet Namby Pamby, a mere fifty mile stretch of the legs not worthy of a mention in The McMurphy's Book of World Ultra Records. A humiliation no serious runner could abide.' My spine tingled at such cold blooded ruthlessness!, and I asked why these snobby wobbies feared the Loop so much? 'They fear that if the Loop is joined with the Namby Pamby it will enhance it so much it will be only the Loop runners remember.' I became infuriated and told her that I must find this Loop, that it was perhaps the most fantastic loop in the world and I had a duty to see it entered into McMurphys! And then she said something which shocked me into silence, for she said. 'Perhaps you are the Loopy?..................
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Ranger
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For century’s the Masters of Gorc had lived under the menace of the southern loop.
One of the ancient Loop’s of power, they were designed to inspire the runners of the world. Though their beauty of form, they enabled runners to reach previously unattainable goals. But the southern loop stood alone in one respect. Whilst the other loops glorified nature though their purity and grandeur, the southern loop was not a loop a nature at all……. but a creation of man.
In a time long forgotten, man was not content with building on flood plains, but reclaimed land form the very sea that surrounded them. Such contempt for nature created walled enclosures, so that man could live on what was previously natural seabed. The southern loop was such an enclosure, and was hailed as a triumph of man over nature.
But the race of man is weak, and the power of man is corrupt. It was this corruption that seeped into the fabric of the loop. Slowly, but surly corrupting all that came into contact with it. Even the builders of the loop were not immune to its power. It is said that they spoke an incompressible tongue, and even their dwellings were loop shaped.
Over the years the brooding power of the loop grew. So much so, that merely traversing the loop was enough to drive runners insane (or at the very least, into a life of petty crime). So it came to pass that the Rangers of Gorc were established , their soul aim to combat the power of the southern loop.
Facing such an affront to nature they couldn’t hope to defeat it, but they could discourage its use.
But what force could possible achieve such a task ?
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jacklarge
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If we get any more loops it'll look like the Olympics has come early in this thread!
Can we not have one story per thread? Being a 'bear of very little brain' long words (and multiple stories per thread) confuse me.
I vote that 'Ranger of Gorc' should be moved to it's own thread (as this is Pat's topic after all).
Cheers,
John
PS Both tales appear to have merit but I will reserve judgement until they get to the end.
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Pat M
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Hope you took note of the above, Ranger. And shouldn't it be Lone Ranger? After all he was another to hide his identity behind a disguise! But be warned, you'll be unmasked soon enough oh treasonous one. lol.
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Pat M
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Old Grandma McGuire stood, and leaning on her walking stick said to me. 'You must read that last page.' With dread in her eyes she crossed herself and hobbled off. I found a deserted corner of the library, withdrew into the comfort of a large winged chair and began to read that last page. This is what I read.
''There is but one to undertake the quest for the Loop. Let's see it it is you! Now every adventure has an opening. A place where you can jump right into the story, but these opportunities are very rare. They come along about as often as a raspberry ripple moon with a chocolate flake sticking out of the side and some sprinkles and chocolate sauce on the top. But no one remembers when the last one was so one could easily be on its way! I suppose you're wondering how you'll recognise the opening if it arrives? Well it could come as you flip through the pages of this book and things go a little blurry. The first thing you'll do is blink when what you should be doing is leaping in! Too slow and the moments lost. But not for the one. For the Loopy will know the time to jump and then the quest is underway. And what is the quest? Solve the riddle below and bring back the Loop.
The Riddle.
It's harder than teak is the Loop Finder,
As straight as it is it bends the way.
With an unnatural gait it finds its own line,
The Canvey Loop recovered in time.
Once the quest begins you have thirty days to solve the riddle and restore the Loop. There is no return for those who fail!''
These last words filled me with dread!.............
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Ranger
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The Rangers of Gorc were few in number, but their exploits were known though out the land. They were famed for an inexplicable ability to travel over vast distances with next to no sleep (for what would appear to be no rational reason). They were also known for their stunning good looks ( though they never liked to draw attention to this).They always travelled light. It was said you could always spot a ranger because in their kimm sack would be nothing but a pristine map (often still in its bag), and a half eaten family pack of hobknob’s !!
The map being pristine as the navigation skills of the rangers are legendary. It is said a ranger will always know precisely where they are. The fact that they aren’t always where you’d expect them to be, just adds to their mystic. The hobknob’s being a sure give away, being the legendary travelling biscuit of the Ranger. It is said one hobknob could sustain a ranger for a whole day on foot , bike, or in the sea ! The true mystery being........ If this is so, how come half the packs gone !!
Since the return of the Dark Lord, the rangers where out in force, for their exploits were not random acts of stamina at all. They where searching, and the search was becoming desperate.
What they were searching for, they dare not speak. For fear the Dark Lord would learn of it’s existence.
But search they did …. Little knowing how close it was to hand .......
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mikey
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Hi Jack
Have to admit I’m struggling a bit to follow this one too
Am I right in thinking that the rangers of gorc believe young McMurphy to be the dark lord reincarnated ?
Seems strange to me, as he appears to be a reasonable chap
Mind you has taken an age to get out of that library !!
Think there might be a sub plot going on here which is beyond the wit of both of us
Hopefully all will get a little clearer soon
Still only 30 days to go !!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Pat M
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I must admit, Mikey, I thought you were the Ranger. So either you're being cunning and diverting attention away from yourself or it really is MM1 who's the treacherous one. There's obvious clues with the nav skills and Hob nobs and being as he isn't defending himself I guess it must be Mike. So will the real Lone Ranger please stand up. And by the way who was the 'blue smurf' who posted the first time round? Mike too?
P.S. You're absolutely right, Mikey, have been in the library too long. Time for McMurphy to get out, but how does he get past Mrs. Smith?
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Ranger
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With every passing day the dark lord grows stronger, though still held up in his library strong hold, he has found ways to see beyond his borders.
Legend has it, that when the true nature of the southern loop became clear, it was nature itself that struck the first blow in the eventual downfall of the loop. So repulsed by the resident evil it felt, the very land itself rose up, to form a protective barrier. This acted not only to keep the evil in, but also shielded it from the view of the gentler folk to the north.
Over the years this barrier has weathered down, to what we now know literally as “the downs”. But look carefully and you can still see the ruins of the ancient watchtowers (which once guarded the boarder). Even today, the downs still hold the residual magic to bar the dark lord.
Trapped on his Island prison and thirsting for news of the outsiders, a huge tower was built to the west of the Island ( to refine his view ). Atop which a single eye scanned above the downs, searching for news of his mortal enemies to the north. A more ferocious eye you would never wish to see. Feline in appearance, and the darkest of emerald green in colour, surrounded by a ring of golden flames. It was at the same time both terrible, and yet had a certain light hearted twinkle to it.
It was this twinkle that was the down fall of many a good man. With its promise of as much double porter as you can drink, spontaneous musical entertainment, and of cause, the most addictive drug known to man “The Crack” . The emerald eye lured its victims into the dark realm , never to be seen again.
Yet the eye had stopped scanning …….. its piercing icy green stare was rooted to the spot.
And a ranger could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck …….
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jacklarge
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Mikey,
Sub-plot: a group of short, large-hairy-footed people pop out of holes in the Downs and are drawn into an adventure to find the one true ring, sorry loop. By the sounds of it they could be a sub-section of Billericay Striders?
Deja vu seems to be the Order of the day for the Lone Ranger - I'm sure I've heard a similar tale before 
But no matter how many Hobnobs are consumed I wouldn't pin the mask on MM1 (personally I think it's Karl).
Cheers,
John.
PS Pat - liked the illustration - can't believe you are still unpublished 
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mikemoreton
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The plot thickens:
Tuesday 31st July some mere mortals from a place we call the Caring Club My A*se, ventured out of Benfleet and onto the isle in question. Yes Canvey Island. Thew word 'loop' was mentioned a few times, but when questioned on the subject the leaders of the small groups went very quiet. Was it to do with the loop and its secrets or were they keeping me in the dark to get me round the 6.5 mile mid week run? A major first in the history of MM2. Never ran that far before mid week. Obvioulsy done further in training for the last Flora Marathon, but last night was worth it.
Anyhow, I digress. What IS this Canvey Loop i ask?
MM2
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Pat M
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Now there's a question. What is the Canvey Loop?.......What IS the Canvey Loop? What is the Canvey Loop?...........Can anybody awnser that? lol.
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Pat M
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I made a note of the riddle in the back of my McMurphy's diary, next to the entry regarding the irregularites I'd noticed by the missing trail. And I began to ponder those holes and depressionns in the ground, and the unusual smell of Marmite clogging the air. I started to think about the woman so frightened she hide in the shadows. And of old Grandma McGuire risking detection from the snobby wobbies by giving me the book. And last but not least I fretted upon the cruel and in-human Ritual of Humiliation to be performed on the Downs. I knew it was my duty as a descendant of Mile-o McMurphy to take up the quest and free the people of Canvey from the terrible snobbery they were under! To return the Loop to the Islanders and have it entered into McMurphys. And so it was with my adrenaline pumping I began flipping through the pages of the Loop Book! I have no idea how much time passed before I began to feel a dizziness of my senses, my eyesight blurring some and a buoyancy in my body lifting me from the chair. The book was drawing me to it! Suddenly I was floating and spinning and there was a moment of panic where I resisted the call, but mustering my will I pulled myself together and gave body and soul to the quest! Then everything went very dark and I was thrust into this shocking coldness!..........
Picture with next post!
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Mike Mason
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What the hell is going on - I pop away for a long weekend and this thread degenerates......
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Pat M
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Welcome back, MM1. Your sparkling wit and dashing good looks were sorely missed! Now if I could only find out where that other reprobate, Stevie D is?
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Pat M
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Disorientation: Total darkness! And a coldness which chilled me to my very bones. I was spiralling downwards when some natural instinct commanded me to kick. My body jerked into action, and like a man possessed I clawed my way upward. My head broke the surface just as I thougth my lungs would burst. Still darkness, but I was floating and alive! Stars dappled the sky which gave me a sense of up and down, and as my eyes began to adjust I could see by the moonlight that I was adrift in some huge expanse of flat water. I'm ashamed to say I was terrified and began to think of sharks and sea monsters which might devour me. As I struggled for calm I started wondering where I was? Off the shore of Canvey? It was then, where the moon's reflection was caught by the water, I saw something moving. A moment of panic before I realized that this object was man-made, and not a creature of the deep. I kicked hard towards it. When I was about halfway there I bumped into a large piece of driftwood and using it as a float under my chest I kicked once more for the small craft, for I could see now that's what it was. As I neared I helloed it, but there was no reply. The vessel was very small, circular in shape, with a limp sail attached to a single mast. I could detect no living soul aboard. I came along side and pulled myself up onto the gunwale, which was soft and made of some animal hide. The craft tipped easily and to my surprise a wretched man lay motionless at the bottom, curled up around the mast. For a moment I thought he was dead, for he was in a dreadful way, but then his eyes opened. Upon seeing me they grew wide with what looked like wonder and through his cracked and swollen lips he said the most remarkable thing. He said..........'Karlycrow.'..........................
McMurphy junior swimming for the small craft.
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Pat M
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Can't delete this post for some reason.
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Pat M
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The craft: He reached out and grabbed my shoulder. 'Is it you, Karly? Have you come back?', he shrieked. And then he tried to kiss me! I resisted of course, and bade him be still while I checked on his condition. There was no room for the two of us in the craft so I pulled myself round it, checking him as I went. I was astonished to see that one of his legs was missing, a silver rod in its stead with screws passed through top and bottom. I asked him about this and he replied that hunger had gotten the better of him and he'd eaten it, using the bone to make a flute and pipe, although he'd nothing to smoke in the pipe. Then he began babbling about an Island. At first this intrigued me but when I asked which Island he said Muldoons, a name I'd never heard before. He then went into a tirade about a giant bird and a special jar, and I think I caught the word coral and there was something about a dear. The wretched fellow was obviously delusional, and as there was no room in the vessel, and fearing for my own legs, I dropped back into the water, which I'd grown accustomed to, and clinging to my driftwood I kicked away saying a silent prayer for the wretch. As the vessel spun away I thought I saw by the moon's glow the name The S. Dear stitched to the side, then it was gone, towed by the tide.
Believing that Mrs. Smith had knocked me unconscious in the library and had her henchmen dump me in the Thames estuary my plan was to kick at an angle to the tide and that I'd either make Canvey or Kent, but certainly land. A while later I heard a cry from the small boat echo across the water. 'The moon! The moon!' And as I turned to see my breath caught in my throat, for the moon was unlike any I'd seen before but exactly like described in the Loop Book. It was a raspberry ripple colour with a flake sticking out it's side and sprinkles and chocolate sauce on the top!...........
A raspberry ripple moon.
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Mike Mason
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Oh my God -= 'babbling about an Island.....' yes I think we are about to segue into the pirate babbling........me hearties........
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Pat M
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Adrift: As I stared at that raspberry moon I was greatly perplexed and tried to recall exactly what was written in the Loop Book. It was something about an opening which would be about as rare as a raspberry ripple moon, and that one could be on its way but only the Loopy would know when to jump in. Was I really in the quest? As these questions whirred in my mind I must have fallen asleep, for the next I remember my eyes opened and an orange sun sat just above the water. Already the day was hot and there was a thick humidity. The sea was calm and of the most gorgeous blue and it was clear to me as I scanned the horizon that I was not in the Thames estuary but somewhere quite tropical. But I could see no land! As a sudden panick gripped me I detected a small speck moving below the sun that seemed to be heading my way. Was my salvation at hand? I prayed it was and kicked hard towards it! Presently an unusual craft was upon me. It had no mast or sails but was propelled by a huge wheel at its rear. On the deck a red and white ensign was fluttering on a pole. I cried out most desperately and waved an arm over head, the wheel slowed, then stopped just as the craft came along side me. I admit it was only then my thoughts turned to the fellow I'd came across last night, and I could only hope he'd been as fortunate as I. Then, as I was hauled aboard a man cried out. 'Welcome, matey! Welcome aboard the Jolly Jogger!' And peering up I stared straight into the countenance of that same wretched fellow!...........
The Jolly Jogger.
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Pat M
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I was pulled aboard by that wretched fellow, who could only have been rescued a few hours before me but who seemed so completely recovered. I remarked on this. 'I am indeed well, thanks to the magic,' and offering his hand he said. 'Captain Pats the name.' Before I could ask what he meant he went on. 'Look lively now, here comes the ships master.' A stout fellow sporting a shaggy grey beard and wearing a hat which pointed both east and west was heading our way. In his hand he held a long stick with a wheel attached at its end. As he approached the wheel ran over the deck, clicking as it spun. 'Twenty eight paces, sir, from where I was standing to where you are now,' and taking out a small notepad he jotted this distance down. 'I'm Captain Charman,' he continued in a friendly way, 'official measurer of the prestigious Benfleet 15 mile race, as well as master of the Jolly Jogger, the fittest vessel ever to sail from the great port of Benfleet.' I thanked him several times for my rescue. 'Think nothing of it,' the Captain went on graciously but the irony of being picked up by a ship from the town I'd grown to dispise was not lost on me. The captain then did something most unusual. Taking his measuring implement he rolled it up the length of my body to the very top of my head. 'Four feet eight inches!,' he exclaimed. I told Captain Charman that I was in fact an inch or two over six feet. 'Nonsense! You are four feet eight inches, sir, and that's official!' Slightly miffed by this I told the captain I was from McMurphys, was quite good with measurements and had in fact been visiting Canvey Island to check its loop and possibly have it entered into The McMurphy's Book of World Ultra Records. Upon hearing this he became most taciturn. 'It's the engine room for you, sir, you shall earn you passage from here on in!,' and rolling his wheel up my bodly once more he exclaimed. 'Correction, eight feet four inches,' upon which he spun on his heel and moved off shouting out distances as his wheel clicked over the deck. I glanced at Captain Pat who seemed most amused by the whole incident!..........
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Mike Mason
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I need to find some Paracetemol........................
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Pat M
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I have decided, due intirely to Mike Mason's comments, that I'll finish the Canvey Loop next time I have a broken leg. lol. Take care, and may your God go with you. lol.
The End. (Until my next broken leg.)
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Mike Mason
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Pat, I wanted Pirates......you gave me Librarians...
I wanted action on the high seas...you gave me walking to and from the library...
I wanted the sound of 'avast there you land lubbers' .....you gave me philosophical and deep introspective musings..............
Give me my Island back..............
ps and don't use me as your excuse to cease....
rgds
Mike
ps the paracetamols are required as I have given up coffee for the time until Mont Blanc to magnify the effects of caffeine taken in gels or drinks during the race.....old Ultra trick...
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Pat M
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Mike, I've decided my real strength lies in my artwork! lol. And if I want to use you as an excuse I'll use you as an excuse! lol.
P.S. How are paracetamols a replacement for caffeine? Just curious?
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Stevie
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Pat - so your after telling me to get back on the fourm again you are now throwing the towl in on your story after just making me read up until now.
Get back writing mate 
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Pat M
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Hello, me bucko! Steve, my two greatest supporters deserted me. One to go off chasing internet porn (lol) the other doesn't like libraries. lol. If I loose either of you I'm fifty per cent of my readership down. lol. I'm washed up, a has been that never was! Besides I'm enjoying my crayoning more. lol.
P.S. Nice to see you back!
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mikemoreton
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More More, we want more!!!!!!!!!!
C'mon Pat tell us more!!
PS What is this porn thing?
Just wondered
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Pat M
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You know, I only logged on tonight to say, 'oh, by the way I was only joking about the porn thing,' and lucky I did. MM2, it was just a joke. (As far as I know anyway.)
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Stevie
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Its ok Pat i'm back now, damn right you were joking about the porn thing, i'm way to young to know about things like that.
Come on then Pat where is the next instalment of this story..
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Mike Mason
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Pat, the paracetemols are for headaches caused by NOT drinking coffee..it's cold turkey like......
ps get back to writing about Pirates.....
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jacklarge
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Pat,
I to am joining the "please keep writing" chorus. Or maybe make a comic book version - I'm not fussed as long as it has a real end
Cheers,
John.
MM1: you and your paracetamol jibes - I expect a higher class of critic from someone of your Kaliber (...mmm Guinness).
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Pat M
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Mike (MM1) is perfectly right, I was looking for an excuse to give up! lol. You see, its not easy writing nonsense all the time, and there's a little part of me wants to grow up. You don't know what it's like struggling with it every day. Do I be silly or do I not? I'm in a constant state of flux. lol. I keep looking at Sean Connery and asking myself. 'Why can't I be like him?' And my biggest shock so far of today? That Karl with a K didn't ask me to keep writing. lol.
P.S. You little bloody liar, Stevie, you do too know all about internet porn!
P.P.S. I hope no one took me seriously when I blamed Mike's comments for quitting my nonsense. I love the banter it's just my enthusiasms been a bit low. Mike, would red indians do instead of pirates? One has to progress.
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Mike Mason
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Pat, Indians are ok as long as they are Pirate Indians. Don't feel aggrieved about Karl not reponding - he is away on his hols. Wait for his return.........
rgds
Mike
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Pat M
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Don't worry, Mike, all my Indians come with compulsory eye patches and wooded legs..........I'll wait a long time on Karl responding he hates me hi-jacking his forum for my stories! lol. Great stuff!
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Stevie
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Pat - The only stuff i know is the stuff that you were telling me about over at the track the other week and thats the main reason we dont see you on club nights these days as you cant drag your self away from you PC due to all the porn - lol
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Pat M
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That's the last time I confide in you!
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Pat M
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Diary entry, 11 August: I'm just returned to my sleeping quarters, which consists of a hammock crammed between a long line of hammocks filled with heaving sweaty bodies. I'll quickly jot down all that's happened as I don't want to miss mess call. It seems my passage depends on my eating!
After leaving Captain Charman (Mem., for clarity, as there seems to be two Captains aboard, I'll call the ships master ((Captain Charman.)) Old Greybeard, and Captain Pat shall remain the same.) Captain Pat took it upon himself to be my guide. He escorted me to the engine room where I was most horrified, for in the centre of that room lay two huge treadmills. Upon the first was a lone jogger, and as he ran the treadmill, connected by some apparatus I don not understand, turned the paddle wheel, which in part comes inside the back of the vessel. The runner motioned to another fellow who I could only see from behind, and mistook at first for an aborigine on account of his dark skin. He brought the jogger a Bugweiser energy drink and a Havana cigar, which he chugged on most happily. From above came a shout for 'Sprint Speed!' and upon hearing this the dark fellow, whom it turns out is just well tanned, leapt onto the second treadmill and shouted. 'Let's hit it, Graham!,' to which Graham replied. 'Moo, Dessie, moo.' It was then I noticed two deckhands climbing into a pantomime cow suit, which they'd attached fake horns to. When they were dressed Graham motioned for Dessie to look over his shoulder, and when he saw the 'bull' his stride suddenly lengthened and he broke into a full gallop. Instantly the ship lurched to port before Graham got into his sride and caught up, still chugging on his cigar. As we sweat out way northward I am filled with trepidation as this seems to be my fate also!......
Note from Author: At this point I have temporarily lost control of the story due to director interference!
Mike the Director: 'Cut! Cut! Can everybody just stop what you're doing and hold it? You two luvvies, Graham and Dessie, get yourselves off to wardrobe and find some long dangly ear-rings. The curtain hoop type and a couple of bandanas for your heads. And can somebody pleeeease find an eye patch for the cow?, and maybe a wooden leg from props? And for heaven's sake, you in the front of the cow, can you moo a bit more piratey-like for Pete's sake? Okay, everybody in position. Hey, you over there, will ya get me some paracetamol? I'm getting one of my caffeine headaches.............Aaaaaaand, action!'
11 August - continued: Captain Pat has just called me and we are heading for the mess together. He's instructed me to eat as much as I can to keep my energy up. One thing has struck me as most queer. Captain Pat seems to be exempt from all ships duties!...........
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Pat M
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We entered the ships mess not a moment too soon for there was a queue stretching from one end of the room to the other. A slight man sat behind a barrel and as the men passed they gave him some money before moving on. There was much I wanted to ask Captian Pat, who seemed to have acquired a wealth of knowledge in his short stay, but for the time being I would limit myself to just finding out the necessary, and so as we stood in line I asked him what was going on?, and how it was he had no ship's duties? There are his words as best I can recollect.
'I 'as no duties as I pays for me passage like any gent haut to, not like these poor swabs. You see to earn their keep they 'as to run and for this they is paid pieces of eight. They then uses this coinage to buy their vitals. The more they runs, the more they earns. Problem is the more they runs the more they eats and this costs 'em even more silver and so they is still as poor as a church mouse. It be a continuous loop as ya might say, eh? They do 'ave a little left over to be sure they do, but I relieves 'em of that as it's a canny one I am I freely admit. Fair!, but canny.'
By now we were by the fellow siting behind the barrel. Captain Pat told me this was first mate McCloud, the ships banker. McCloud took the runners silver as payment for their hammocks, dining mugs and general ware and tare on the vessel. He then marked it down in his ledger next to each runnners name or mark. Captian Pat was next and this was their exchange.
'Why if it aint me old rummy, first mate McCloud, the best 'and of any vessel I ever did sail upon, and that be more than one I can tell ya!'
'Piece of eight (50p.) for hammock, drinking mug and general ware and tare of vessel.'
'Why of course it is! I knows that and 'ere ya be. And may I says that's a fine 'air cut you 'as 'ad. Why whoever did that 'ad more 'an 'is fair share a grog the night afore I can tell.'
'Tea and biscuits that way. And that will be an extra piece of eight for all the scuffing your metal leg is doing to the deck.'
'And I makes you right an' all, for it do scuff up some and make no mistake. Why 'ere's your silver and I be 'appy to pays it too. Mabye you can give it to the ships barber to finish that 'air-do.'
'Next!'
Next was me but I had no money!.................
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Pat M
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To my surprise Captain Pat staked me saying this.
'I'll anti up for ya, for I can tell by the cut of your jib you'll be good for it and then some. And I only asks a small percentage of your earnings for the loan. That's as fair an offer as you'll ever 'ave this side a Port Royal and you can boil my eyes in salt water if it be untrue. Now, 'ere's me 'and on it. Take it like the good sport I knows ya to be.'
I had little choice and we shook on it. First mate McCloud waved us on and we found ourselves at the far end of the room. Standing behind a long table was the ship's master, Old Grey Beard, who apparently doubled as ship's tea boy too, serving up the refreshments. Captain Pat stepped up and this is they're exchange.
'Harr, harr!, but it be the tea boy. And never a bigger under achiever did I ever see. Why a bucko of your years should be master of his own vessel and make no mistake about it!'
'I am the captain.'
'Why I knows that, course I do. Why I were just pullin' on your anchor chain.'
'Drink?'
'I thought you'd never ask. Inn Keeper I says, set me up a sassparilla, but not too much of your sass if ya please.'
'It's sarsaparilla. Tea, coffee or chocolate?'
'No point in askin' for rum I s'pose? No, for I never drinks on duty and I'll swear to that on me mother's grave should she ever pass over. And what's this? Salt biscuits? Why never saltier did I cast a weather eye upon. Baked 'em with your own little white 'ands I dare say too? For I can see you're a man not afraid to tie on a piny and be covered in bakin' soda and I likes ya all the more for it!'
'Next!'
Captain Pat dropped two pieces of eight in the tin and we moved off to a corner table. I asked him what he meant when he remarked earlier about relieving the runners of their earning?
'You shall see 'ow it is I gets 'old of their silver, for you'll no doubts be giving me your change afore long too I'll wager. Now sup up for you're gonna need all your strength, and there be no rush to thank me for being your provider either. Now tell me as you dine by my good 'eartedness 'ow come you be floatin' in the briny on a piece of driftwood?'.........
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