At our recent members Coffee Morning each of our two speakers regaled us with fascinating tales, experiences from their working lives. George Newlands was the second member to speak. His text is in the first person.
‘Some years ago I received an email from a lady enquiring if I would be interested in buying her late husband’s collection of several hundred yachting books. She didn’t have a list available, but could send me some photos – this was in the early days of common use of digital photography. Images were winged over, the collection looked promising, so I asked the question of where were the books, wondering if it would be a day’s drive, or an overnight stay? Menorca.
This put a different complexion on things. But, there were a couple of four figure books and it really was quite a nice collection. Time to work out the logistics.
The lady’s name was Ruby and she had a pool-side apartment at her villa that we could have the use of (shame it rained most of the time we were there, and the apartment flooded). We could get reasonably priced BA flights via Heathrow, a ball-park figure was agreed, and if we brought the more valuable books back with us, Ruby thought we could probably arrange a local carrier to ship over the rest.
So taking in a big breath in that it would all work out, off we went. I say we, as my wife accompanied me, purely in her role as the business book-keeper and company secretary of course, not for a long weekend jolly to the Med.
Check-in at Glasgow was interesting. We had hand luggage for our three night requirements and one large suitcase each, which had to go on the scales. It seems check-in staff aren’t used to large sized hold luggage weighing in at 2 kilos…….
What’s in your suitcase sir? Um, quite a lot of bubble-wrap. Hmmm……
But luckily it seems that there are indeed no restrictions on taking suitcases full of bubble-wrap off on holiday with you (what people get up to in their own hotel rooms is their business). So, off the light as air suitcases went, which must have been a bit of a shock to the baggage handlers, hopefully to be reunited with us in Minorca.
Mahón, Menorca
We and our non-luggage arrived safely in Menorca, where we were met by Ruby and spent a very pleasant three days being shown round the island (in the rain), meeting up for lunch with a couple of bookselling friends, and reaching a satisfactory agreement for the books.
A beautiful Menorcan Bay
When it came to the return, I made good use of the bubble-wrap (in the manner in which it should be used), filled our suitcases with the more valuable books, and in a motley assortment of boxes and cartons packed up and secured as best as possible, the remainder.
A local Menorca man with a van who did fortnightly or so trips to the UK was engaged to transport them, though only as far as the London area.
Luckily my sister lives 20 miles north of London, and became the less than enthusiastic recipient of 15 or so, surprisingly still intact, boxes of yachting books, to clog up her hallway till I arranged the onward transport.
Some books that weren’t in George’s purchase
So that’s the story of the book deal, but more interesting is the story of Ruby herself and the spooky tale that she related…..
Ruby was a redoubtable English lady of a certain social standing. She introduced us to her code, N.O.C.D., used as a firm put-down for those lower down the social ladder – “not our class dear”.
Probably in her 70s when we met her, she had enjoyed what you could call a ‘colourful’ life, with a few marriages along the way.
One of them to a Vice-President in 20th Century Fox, who introduced her to the high life of parties with the stars, lavish dinners, expensive holidays and all the other trappings that go with the high end of the movie business.
A life she thoroughly enjoyed, till one day, she had had enough, and it was bye-bye to the high life and back to being a woman of independent means.
After a while the appeal of the single life wore off, and Ruby decided on the obvious solution to find her path back to the state of matrimony. No, not an ad in the Lonely Hearts column, or the equivalent to today’s dating apps; she decided that she would marry the next man who offered to buy her fish and chips.
Now, I’m not sure of the logistics here; if she hung around fish & chips stalls on the off-chance, or just waited for serendipity to run its course, but whichever way, the next husband was duly reeled in.
Ruby’s new husband was a chap from the west of Scotland called Dougal.
I’m not sure if one of them already lived out in Minorca, or whether they both upped sticks and headed off to the Med., but a villa overlooking a marina was to be their matrimonial home.
I think it’s OK to say that Dougal was fond of a tipple, which may have hastened his early demise, and Ruby became a widow, with a load of yachting books to dispose of. Which as you know is where I came into the story.
Dougal had also been married. Whether his involvement with the beguiling Ruby was instrumental to the marriage breakdown, I don’t know, but we gathered from Ruby that ‘amicable’ didn’t come into it, and by this time he too was a widower.
Sadly, Dougal died and was cremated on the island, and in due course the time came for the scattering of the ashes, which in view of Dougal’s yachting background was to be carried out from a yacht in the bay below their house.
Friends and family assembled on board a friend’s yacht. They motored out to a quiet spot in the bay, Dougal’s ashes were scattered over the calm waters, followed by a remembrance wreath.
As the assembled party paused in quiet reflection, watching the ashes slowly dissipate over the waters, marked by the floral wreath, a small speedboat roared upon the scene, sped past the yacht, well and truly scattering the ashes and demolishing the wreath, and zoomed off into the distance.
But not before those on the yacht could clearly read the speedboat’s name on its transom – ‘Maria’. The name of Dougal’s late ex-wife……..
Not the right boat, but it is called Maria!
Now this tale was of course told to us by Ruby, and truth be told, we did take it with just a little pinch of salt. Nice story, but……
Fast forward a few months. We’re having a drink in the Royal Northern & Clyde yacht club bar, and my wife regaled the fellow bar flies with the story of our trip to Minorca, our encounter with Ruby, and the slightly unlikely tale of the ashes scenario.
Then, one of the listeners piped up, “Every word is true. I was a friend of Dougal’s and was on board that yacht.”
Maria’s revenge……..
As you might expect, the names have been changed. PT.
Why not join us?
New members are always welcomed at the Club. If you are 50 or over, retired, or nearing retirement, (men only, I’m afraid, sorry ladies) you can attend three meetings as a guest and find out what a relaxed and friendly time we have. That’s plenty of time to decide whether to become a Club member or not. Please check out our programme and email info@largsprobus.org.uk if you wish to attend as a guest, or to enquire about joining.
Largs Probus Club will next meet on Wednesday 30th April at 10:00am within the Willowbank Hotel, when Sandra Savona will speak on Home Instead.