Mayday! Mayday! Imperilled on shore on Mayday

  Mayday! Mayday! It is the beginning of May - Mayday - and it’s the emergency call from seafarers in peril. And as I was about to shout it, I certainly had being imperiled in mind.

I was working into the early hours on a neighbourhood website. Stuck, embayed, by not being able to

recall a certain programming routine, I logged into an international forum I have used a zillion times through the millennium.

I admitted it to other developers: I simply couldn’t remember a certain process, could I be prompted, please. Surprisingly no-one on the forum would or could, but preferred to dismiss the method I wanted, pointing out a lazy way around the challenge.

Mocking the assumed oldie

But, I pleaded, just remind me again, please.

At that point, an Australian coder interrupted and actually began to mock this assumed elder for my seemingly poor memory.

A few appropriate words appeared to silence that strange critic, and probably it was the raised temperature that returned the format to my memory.

However, this morning, after an early gym call, I returned to work on the site when suddenly it suffered some programming attack and – seemingly – someone with coding knowledge ensured the site would not work again. And all the Mayday calls from the nautical world couldn’t rescue it.

So much for 1st of May, I thought. With that major setback, at least I must have had my fill of Mayday woes.

A heated encounter

I cycled off to Aldi’s in Epsom late this afternoon. Almost there, I zoomed along a lane, slowed to mount the pavement and a parked van suddenly reversed, and into me. I banged at a side panel. The driver leaped out, demanding to know, face in my face, why I dared strike his van.

The heat was up. ...Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventure book, Sailing to Purgatory, at SailingToPurgatory.com