Messing About on a Boat

This is the tale of a journey of love.

It was not a particularly long journey, nor was it particularly far. But it was full of love.

Life is better by the sea: that's my mantra. Sometimes though, life can also be just as good ON the sea. Under a ridiculously blue sky a few weeks ago, I spent the day aboard a steam ship pottering about the Solent. It was delightful. I loved it.

Everything about the day was delightful. Not exciting, not awesome, but a day full of pure, heart-warming, sunshine-glowing, smile-inducing, wave-making delight.

We made waves before we even set sail. Part of the joy of being on a boat is waving at people, right? So I started many a wave. Waving at dinghies, waving at ferries, waving at yachts (FYI yachts are the least likely to respond, yet I continued waving regardless) all to spread a little joy as we began our adventure.

Well, maybe 'adventure' is a bit strong. We were going on a steady journey aboard a ship to the dark side of the Isle of Wight and back with a picnic. Hardly searingly adventurous. The ship in question was a steam ship called the SS Shieldhall. It's a retired and restored vessel that now goes on jollies around the Solent. You can find out more about it here: https://www.ss-shieldhall.co.uk/

She may not be particularly fast but she is ever so slightly magic. Even the man with the stripes on his shoulders on the bridge told me so. And that's part of the beauty of Shieldhall. You can go almost anywhere on board. You can hang out with the captain and the pilot on the bridge. You can keep lookout with the crew on the fo'c'sle deck. Or you can enter an ice cream eating race with the guys in the heaving heart of the blisteringly hot boiler room. Swelteringly hot down in the depths and they were still up for the challenge of eating their ice cream before it ran away. Of course they were. They are there for the simple joys.

Every single person on board that ship was there for the joy. Yet the crew were there for the joy and the love. Each person who works for or on the SS Shieldhall is a volunteer. No one gets paid. They do it for the love of the ship. That is abundantly clear to see everywhere. No one is looking at their watch to check when they get to clock off. Every volunteer gives their time willingly and wholeheartedly to paint the ship during the off-season, oil its bits, make tea to sell, walk around the deck selling ice creams from a tray (I kid you not), sweat their lives away in the engine room and most of all, talk the sea legs off any passenger on board about the ship and why they love it so.

I loved their love.

It was also clear that they loved each other. The camaraderie between the crew members was sincere and so important to them. When not on duty, the crew seemed to hang out at the lookout point on the front deck. They traded stories and jibes between talking about the ship and teaching us eager onlookers about their work on that day and throughout the many days they'd spent preparing her for voyages.

On a wander up to the bridge, the captain had told me a story about his chance meeting with a professor from Southampton General Hospital. He recounted how a lot of the professor's patients who suffered with various mental health issues, often after retiring or leaving careers in the navy or suchlike, had found solace and, more importantly, purpose in starting to volunteer for Shieldhall. Over the years, the ship has brought people together and has continued to build a family of volunteers. It is truly magic.

I might have set foot aboard Shieldhall with the intention of just messing about on a boat, yet the leisurely journey past the corner of Bembridge and back allowed me a glimpse into a very special community.

Sometimes messing about, eating ice cream before it drips down your chin, waving like a loon to anyone who you might make smile, whooping along with the ship's whistle and all the while basking in the company of some of the most dedicated, knowledgeable and time-generous seafarers can bring you joy that you never imagined.

Steam is what makes the Shieldhall go, but love is what makes it live.