| One might be forgiven for thinking that this
page ought to be in the Humour section, although how you are supposed to
be able to tell the difference between that and most of the rest of MarineZine
anyway is difficult to say.
You might be surprised, or maybe not, at the amount of plant life to be
found on yachts of all sizes. We have seen rows of cacti, grow-bags on
foredecks, complete with ripening tomatoes and, ourselves, used to have a
herb garden in the dinghy, suspended on the davits at the stern of the
boat.
Our miniature herbaceous border even included a small Rosemary bush until
a rather overenthusiastic young
guest steered us too close to a fishing vessel moored beyond
our overnight stopping place. The bow of the dinghy brushed against a
protruding object of some sort, causing the entire contents to be lost as it flipped over and back again. No more Rosemary. No more
oars either, come to think of it but, at the time, it was the Rosemary
bush that seemed the greatest loss.
Not long ago, we heard of a lady who had arrived, by
yacht, in the Antipodes with a wonderful houseplant growing up the
bulkhead of the saloon.
Unfortunately, it is not permitted for any form of plant life to enter New
Zealand, even if it is intended that it remain aboard, since plant diseases
can also be airborne and one diseased plant can wreak havoc across an
entire continent, in the fullness of time.
The unfortunate lady was obliged to hand over her pride and joy in spite
of her pleas.
Understandably, she was very upset, the plant having formed part of her
life and travels for quite some time and the officers were obviously sad
at having to insist upon the plants' destruction but there can be no
exceptions.
Apparently, when the lady was ready to sail out and went to complete her
departure formalities she was presented, to her great surprise, with a
large bouquet of flowers by the officers in question.
That story warmed the cockles of our hearts.
In Britain (you know, that little pair of islands that
used to be Great), quite a few people laughed at Prince Charles when it
became known that he tended to talk to his plants.
Of course a large proportion of those people think nothing of talking to
themselves or at, rather than to, each other.
Given that their combined I.Q. (intelligence quotient) amounts to about
43, as evidenced by the sort of newspaper they favour, one can hardly
blame the Prince for choosing his vegetables as companions.
That he can
tell the difference is remarkable, but then one supposes that the genuine
cabbages and carrot-tops don't wipe their noses on their sleeves or
interject four-letter words into every sentence.
Come to that, one likes to think that the Prince doesn't actually expect
to receive any reply from the foliage to which he addresses himself.
Now that would be a little odd. Talking to plants is the
most normal thing in the world to anyone who has an affinity with them.
Hearing them answer is reserved for those who reside on quite another
plane...
Are you a floating gardener? We'd love to hear all about
it. Would you like us to link to a website about your gardening
activities?
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