Buff sells Greenland!

G'day all! Buff Staysail here! Buff by name and Buff by nature!

You might be wondering why ol' Buff has been off the radar! Well its simple - I've been working for the Trumps!

That's right, the top man, Mr T himself in Washington DC has recruited Buff Staysail into his team. Buff is head of strategic thinking and advanced planning and I'm sure you can tell how things have been turned around by checking out Mr. T's improved hair-piece!!

He recently sent me down to his Florida golf course to check some paper-work and report back. This insurance bozo (yawn) went on and on about how global warming was raising sea levels and so the flood premium was going up.

"Soon, with Greenland melting" said the suit "half of Florida will be underwater.  But then it will be so hot everyone will have moved north anyhow."

I've had a crack at this golf lark and let me tell you, its tough enough getting out of the sand castles (Ed: is that right?) but if the green is under water your's truly will be rightly stuffed.

So I told the boss his golf courses were about to be flooded due to Greenland global warming and he was devastated.

"Best golf club ever" he said. "Flooding would be SO SAD!!"

He munched on his burger and fired off some tweets.

Then he perked up.

"So this Greenland place, its up north, it'll be cleared of all that ice, it won't get too hot. Lets buy it and create the new Presidential Golf Course".

Sorted.

And it's the family way - buy property on the up, early. And the best way to make Greenland valuable is to burn lots of oil and coal, kick climate change into gear, then clean up when the ice melts and its coastline becomes water-front property heaven!

With Buff in charge of strategy, what can possibly go wrong!!

This is Buff Staysail, over and out!!

AIPAC declares all dead on Titanic "terrorists"

Today representatives of the America Iceberg Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) declared that all those that died in the Titanic disaster were "terrorists".

"The iceberg was just defending its borders" said the AIPAC representative. "So what if some of those that died were children - they should have been at school! There were no 'passengers' - the iceberg focused only on targets of terrorist activity".

Donald Trump was declared the best ever friend of icebergs when he said that "the responsibility for these deaths rests squarely with those terrorists on-board". He said he fully supports the "great" iceberg as it was "big, powerful and white - just like me!"

Transgender ship demands right to be called he

Traditionally all ships have been identified as female but in a shock move this morning a representative of the world's ships has said that in future they want to be referred to as "he".

"Gender is a dynamic concept" he said. "It makes many of us uncomfortable that the sailing community would force one particular gender upon the ships and boats of the world. No longer are all sailors male: now we have women racing in the Volvo and Olympics just like the men."

The move was supported by gender neutral monarch Neptune, who noted that river and sea gods can be either gender and therefore welcomed this introduction of diversity into shipping.





Editors note: following a top-level all-staff meeting involving JP, Sassi and (reluctantly) Buff it was agreed that forthwith this blog will use the gender neutral "it" to describe all boats, ships, yachts, dinghies or other marine craft.

Switching to YouTube

Hi Guys!!

OMG! So FINALLY JP is no longer going to be total lame-ville and moving from Blogger to YouTube!

He's SAYS its because of the quality and story telling of SV Delos, but who's he kidding???!!

It was of course yours truly and my vlogging chums who taught him everything he needs to know. You know, me and Millipede are like SO CLOSE!! I mean, that night of the launch party for the Tiny Girls new single!!! We raved until dawn!! Then AGAIN with the lads from Kurupt FM!!

So we put together a series of videos to tell losers like JP (and this Liam fella) how to do it.

AND YOU CAN TOO!!!

Gotta go - streaming live in five!!!

Luv ya!

Sassi

The Wreck and The White House

Zdravstvuj!

Look, no ever said "The White House". Or "and". What someone said was there was this wrecked boat and in the background a building which was white.

But it turned out there was a wreck and a white house - everyone knows that! So don't listen to those false facts or fake news! What I, Boris Staysail, say is true, is true - I have this instinct - and I'm the one writing this so it must be right and you're the fictional one not me!!

If you don't understand you're sad, so sad.

Do svidaniya!

Boris Staysail's vinning sailing "alternative truths"

Zdravstvuj!

Vings are looking up for Boris! P. in Moscow approves big time! I am in the inner circle viv security clearance - vanks to my alternative sailing truvs.

I told T. that it was good news! America has von the Vendee Globe!! Great America IV has stormed to victory after Armel Le Cleac'h sank and Alex Thomson was eaten by a giant shark! Is all true!

I hav a new bestestish plan, big, big money, big, big win. Ve show that America is open to all! Yes, everyone is velcome to the next America's Cup apart from those from the following countries:

• France
• Japan
• New Zealand
• Sweden
• United Kingdom

Alas sailors from these countries will be denied entrance until we can work out what they are up to.

Some may say that this is illegal, immoral and unconstitutional but ve say, our hackers be interested in knowing your email? So maybe you joke? Ve are the best jokers:



 Do svidaniya!

10 reasons why sailing is SAD

Our new top correspondent Boris Staysail has been interviewing the topest persons and has come up with this Top Trump list of 10 reasons why sailing is sad.

1. Water sports are sad. I know nothing about water sports so don't know what they are but know they are really sad

2. Colour. I've seen those Aeros that some sad sailors go on and on about but you can't get them in gold, and gold is the only not sad colour

4. All good things can be done in one of my hotels, if you can't do it in a hotel then that is SAD. And you can't sail in a hotel so that is just sad

5. One sailor I have heard of is John Kerry and he is a Democrat and they are sad so sailors are sad

6. I am the smartestish of all but haven't won the America's Cup, so it must be sad, so sad. I feel sorry for it!

7. I was told that the Vendee Globe was a big sailing race but when I went on to the web site to watch the virtual regatta I noticed they were all fake, not real - FAKE - that's sad

8. My friend Putin doesn't sail, so it must be sad

9. America is the topest nation, greatest at everything - so why didn't America get the most sailing gold medals in the Olympics - it must be that its FIXED against America. Its FIXED! We should build a wall otherwise against these SAD sailors

10. The main stream media reports about sailing and they are just garbage, so biaised, its SAD. So SAD!

Time loop detected in London!!

Scientists are rushing to explain the time loop which has transported parts of central London back to the 1950s.

Said THE EXPERT "We have observed scenes from 1950s Britain in modern Trafalgar Square, such as the protests against Prime Minister's Eden's Suez adventure" (above).

THE EXPERT continued "However, we have identified a possible prime suspect for this time related incident. None other than THE DOCTOR is involved, having infiltrated the ROYAL FAMILY by posing as PRINCE PHILIP":

"Our latest theories" THE EXPERT continued "involves quantum effects and the noosphere's anxiety in response to modern reality, but who knows?".

"The time loop would also explain how elements of the 1930s seemed to have crept into modern life. It is therefore urgent that the loop is closed as quickly as possible".

Doctors have suggested that the required reduction in anxiety could involve mass "Netflix and chill" sessions.

Buff spots water nymph riding a sea horse on Lake Geneva!!

G'day all! Buff Staysail here! Buff by name and Buff by nature!!

Well o'l Buff has had a bit of a shock. I've been out in Geneva to see if Alinghi have been foiling on the lake (to be honest I have absolutely no idea) and was admiring the view of the mountains when I saw this water nymph riding a sea horse:

OMG!!! Buff Scoops again!!!

I can tell you Buff was much impressed by this sight but moments later she had vanished:

I needed witnesses so went back to the bar to drag my new chums out but in the end decided it would be better to stay and tell them my story.

What a day!

This is yours truly, water nymph spotter, Buff Staysail, over and out riding on a sea horse!!

The Westeros Cup: The Hall of Memories

"And this is the Hall of Memories" said Sam, candle in hand.

Gilly looked around, intrigued.

"All these books" she said.

"And drawings" said Sam. "Records of the greatest ever yachts to enter the Westeros Cup. Each tells a story."

Gilly looked at the first, a gaff rigged cutter. "So what happ'n to 'em?"

"They won" said Sam. "But then the crew were kissed with poisonous lipstick and they all died."

"Oh."

She moved onto the next, an elegant catamaran in what looked like tropical waters.

"And this?"

"It would have won, but was attacked by a dragon and burnt to the water-line, along with the crew".

She made a face, but then cheered up at sight of a lovingly drawn picture of a young girl sailing a tiny dinghy.

"Oh, she's so sweet! Not dragon fire I hope?"

Sam made a face. "No, not a dragon" and steered her onwards.

The next was a noble yacht, schooner rig with a giant stag on its sail.

"So what happened here?" she asked.

"On the final leg of the deciding race they turned the windward mark first and thought they had it in the bag. Then the other yacht rammed into them, boarded, and slew all of them."

It was Gilly's turn to make a face.

"Every race, they seem to end the same."

"Not the same, this wasn't dragon fire. Swords, daggers and lances...." his voice trailed off.

There was one drawing left, of a yacht with darkened timbers and the sign of the Night's Watch.

"Oooh, did you sail this one?" asked Gilly.

"Was that baby Sam?" asked Sam.

"I didn't hear anything."

"You better go and check."

She left, leaving Sam alone, staring at the yacht with darkened timbers. Outside the light was fading.

The silence was broken by the craw of a crow.

"Never more" it cried and the candle flickered and went out.

Sam was alone in the cold with his thoughts as dark as night.

Winter is coming.



Previous

The Westeros Cup: The winter challenge

The two guards looked out across the snow covered landscape, sheltering from the wind. Neither said a word.

One stirred to shake the snow from his straggly beard. "Oi, mush, wake up" he said.

"I was awake" said the other. "You think I'd sleep after what happened to ... you know."

There was a pause.

"Don't want to think about it."

"She did no wrong. They did no wrong."

There was no reply, and no sound but the soft patter of flakes compressing.

"You want to hear a story" said the one with the beard. "Of what happened here hundreds of years ago - the Westeros Cup's winter challenge!"

"Here?" asked the other. "There's no water! It's fecking freezing! You're making it up!"

"True story."

"How could they have held a yacht race here?"

"Didn't say they had a yacht race, just they hosted the Westeros Cup. It was the idea of the Lords of FIFA, to hold a yacht race where no yacht race should be held. They got bags of gold from the Lannister mines and buggered off to Dorne."

The other spat. "The lords of FIFA!"

"Aye, that's the anger that keeps you warm during a long, cold watch."

The two men watched as the snow fell ever deeper around their Lord's camp.


Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: The Targaryen Challenge

"So where is this wonder yacht?" asked Tyrion.

Daenerys shielded her eyes from the bright sun with her fair hand and searched the bay.

"There!" she said, pointing.

Tyrion followed her outstretched arm and squinted.

"Jolly bright" he grunted, wincing slightly.

"You drank far too much wine last night" said Dany.

Then he saw it: he had taken it for a gull, so fast and graceful did it move, the curve of its white cloth sail like a giant wing.

"It has two hulls" he said, as if complaining, as if his eyes weren't to be trusted.

"Catamarans are faster, lighter" she said. "This is how they sail in the southern isles."

Tyrion watched, entranced. It seemed to fly over waters, free. Yes, with this yacht she could indeed win the Westeros Cup.

"It's amazing" he said, grinning.

Then the sun's heat and light were eclipsed as a shadow fell over the bay.

"Drogon!" cried Daenerys.

The black dragon swooped down and engulfed the little yacht in a ball of fire. Even from this far distance they could hear the screams. In rage it snorted again and again, kicking the ablaze mast into the waters.

When there was nothing left but ash scattered across the waves it flew off, south.

As tears ran down Dany's face there was no sounds but the gentle lap of waves on the shore.



Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: The Fighting Races

"This isn't how we race back in King's Landing."

"You're a long way from King's Landing."

Tyrion grunted: Jorah had a point.

"And entering the fighting race was your idea."

"Yes, but the alternative was death and castration - in that order. You can see how I was against the whole concept."

The starting horn sounded and Jorah tacked on the start line.

"Of course I usually sail with Jamie, double-handed, but that's where he'd fall short now, if you know what I mean."

Jorah said nothing, eyeing the opposition.

"They're on port, we're on starboard: do you think they'll give way?"

"No."

"Nor me."

The two racing skiffs collided, and the slaver's prize fighters jumped across the gunwales, swords in one hand and knives in the other. Tyrion ran to the stern while Jorah kicked the feet away under one then stabbed in his right eye. He was about to tackle the other when the skiff accidentally gybed and the boom knocked him over-board.

"Shit" said Tyrion, as the prize fighter approached, grinning. Tyrion grabbed the tiller and pulled it across, forcing another gybe, but the fighter ducked under the boom, approaching closer. Tyrion retreated behind the back-stays and the fighters sword flashed, cutting it in two. The mast collapsed and the fighter was covered in the mainsail. Tyrion teetered on the edge of loosing his balance and falling overboard, but his foot was caught by the tiller and he flipped inwards, landing on the prize fighter.

"Shit!"

He jumped up and ran to the bow, trying to hide under jib.

"Got you runt" said the prize fighter, moving forward sword in hand and grin on face.

"Bugger" said Tyrion. He looked left and right for escape but there was none: the other skiff was drifting away and he had no weapons.

Then an arm reached from out of the sea and grabbed the fighters foot dragging him over-board. There was a swirl of spray that turned bloody red, then Jorah Mormont crawled over the stern.

"We will take their boat and win this race."

Tyrion nodded, for once lost for words.



Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: The Mark on the Spinnaker

There waterside at King's Landing thronged with the undesirables, desirables and the simply plain.

Hawkers cried out for grilled rats, smoked goat's tongue, fried eels and jellied locust. Pockets were picked, roving eyes were caught, honours lost, gossip exchanged and a thousand barrels of mead emptied.

It was the day of the second race of the Westeros Cup, when the great racing yachts of House Lannister and House Baratheon would go head to head for the first time. The betting shops were doing a roaring trade, gold and silver stacked high, odds fluctuating by the minute.

Suddenly a great cheer arose as the two boats were sighted. They were to sail close by the quay-side, as close as possible, as fast as possible, to hear the cheers and receive the bouquets of flowers that would thrown by admirers, both men and women, to the sailors.

It would be a fine spectacle, with the wind on their quarter, maximing their speed, and the conditions were perfect: each would be raising their largest most impressive sail.

First the Lannister yacht, "Hear Me Roar" approached first, followed closely, almost touching, by the Baratheon of Dragonfire yacht "The Furious Fire".

They battled for inches, racing parallel to the enthusiastic, cheering crowd.

Then they raised their great spinnakers.

"They will show a lion and a stag" said a voice from the crowd, male, trying to impress the young woman on his arm.

But when with a crack the great canvases unfurled both were identical. Two triangles, interleaved as an hour-glass, with hands one either side.

The Iron Bank of Braavos.

Which ever yacht was fastest, there would be but one winner today.



Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: The Protest

Varys missed Tyrion's wit. Meetings were not just boring without his quips but lacking in ideas and vision. In particular, Pycelle was a moron!

"Let's get this over with" said Varys. "Remind me exactly why we are holding the race protest hearing in Lord Baelish's.... establishment? Err.... hello... Pycelle, concentrate."

Pycelle turned back from exchanging smiles with one of the young ladies and would have blushed if his pulse or conscience had been strong enough.

"Well, it was thought he'd be here and not... where ever he is. And also on the committee there is Tyrion, it was considered it would be convenient for him but he is .... somewhere else. Finally we expected the crews to be here."

"So where are they?"

"Well the Black Watch have returned to their Wall and the Wildlings were either killed in the incident or captured."

"Well, I suppose we better hear from some of the captured Wildlings."

"There would be a problem there: it appears they all fell on a sword and died except one who dunked his head in a cauldron of molten lead."

"Oh."

"Well, who was going to pay for their food?"

"I see your point."

"But there are these reports."

Varys looked at the scrolls, picking up one with a sneer. "As if they matter. The key question is who we want to win."

"On the one hand the Black Watch serve the King while Stannis Baratheon is a rebel."

"That is true."

"But if we disallow the Black Watch's win then there's no chance of them defeating Stannis in their semi."

"Tricky. Are there are any mitigating circumstances?"

"The bribes are equally impressive."

"Even more tricky."

Varys wondered what Tyrion would have done, then it came to him.

"I say we accept both bribes and decide the result is there must be a re-race and if there isn't a winner then the previous result stands."

"But neither crew are available."

"Exactly: win - win"

"Very good" said Pycelle. He picked up the bribe purse.

"If you'll just excuse me" he said, totting out in the direction the young lady had left.

Moron, thought Varys.

Where was Tyrion?




Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: The Yacht of Queens

Cersei Lannister gave the simpering snake her warmest smile and the room grew colder.

So what if all those common people had died? Why was Margaery telling her about this?

"And who invited Lord Walder Frey anyhow?" she said. "I mean, he looks like a caretaker."

She laughed at her own joke, the fool.

"I wouldn't know" said Cersei. "I am not familiar with caretakers let alone what rags they choose to wear. What matters to me is the Cup, our Cup."

"Indeed" said Margaery. "And our yacht. The Yacht of the Queen."

Her chin went up a faction at the word, but Cersei spotted it. Queen indeed: there'd be only one queen here, just as there could only be one captain on a boat.

"Or should that be Queens." Margaery was being diplomatic. "There'll be no talk of the girls boat, will there?"

Cersei snorted at the idea. Not if they wanted to live. "You say such sweet things" she said, while wondering if Qyburn would sew the troubling trollop's lips together forever if she asked.

"Of course not, after all you're the Queen Mother now, not some slip of a girl."

Cersei's lips tightened. Sewing was too good for her.

"I will be in command" she said. "As you are so kind to remind me, I am the senior."

"No, I am the Queen. You can be in charge of the foredeck, as you are so strong. I will be in charge of the afterdeck."

It was like a tacking duel, move and counter-move until in the end they each received a DNF.

There never would be a yacht of queens, but it didn't matter as long as that upstart wasn't helming.

Jamie would sail for her.




Next
Previous

The Westeros Cup: the Iron Cup

Tommen Barartheon was alone in the Great Hall with the body of his grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister.

Alone, but not free.

He had the power to order the courtiers out, that was new. He no longer feared the random cruelties of his brother, Joffrey. His mother might control everything but Margaery was opening his eyes.

But not free, never that.

He turned his back on the body and walked down the hall towards the great Iron Cup. Forged from the anchors of a thousand yachts, it was said, melted by the fire of the great dragon Balerion, hundreds of years ago.

His grandfather might be dead but his voice echoed in Tommen's head. "It is our Cup, it is ours by right, never to be lost."

Nothing was forbidden when it came to the Cup. "You race or you drown", so mother said.

He sighed and raised a hand to touch its surface. The harsh iron sucked the heat from his hand, ice cold that only dragon fire could warm.

He would never be free of the Iron Cup.



Next
Previously

The Westeros America's Cup: The After Party

"A little more red? Ser? Your grace?"

Arya Stark circulated the party, the perfect serving boy. It was a risk, she knew, someone might recognise her, though it was a risk worth taking. Jon Snow might be here! She longed to see her half-brother. So many tales to tell, so long since Winterfell. And he'd won his race, the first in the Westeros America's Cup!

She knew what to do, having been taught by none other than Lord Tywin Lannister. Be invisible but watchful, which suited her, so she could listen in and hear of news of the Starks.

"Yes, the race committee is to meet: there has been a protest."

She spotted a well filled purse on the belt of one guest and was tempted: she hadn't eaten for several days now.

"L plus R equals J" said a monk, face hidden in the shadow of his cape. "Now where did you hear that?"

Suddenly one guest gasped, choking. Green foam formed around his mouth, eyes went red then tears of blood were streaming down his face. Hands grasped at neck, nails attempting to dig inwards. Then the body collapsed on the ground and began to twitch, shudders that grew and then slackened, easing into death.

There was a scream, several screams, then dozens and the guests were falling like cattle on feast night.

Ayra tried to pull back, in case it was contagious, but then she realised: the wine! It had been poisoned!

"Hahahahahaha!"

A voice was triumphant.

"Ha ha ha ha ha! That will teach you, scum, worthless sons and daughters of swine!"

Ayra turned to recognise Lord Walder Frey, Lord of the Crossing, addressing the corpses.

"So! You think you can change the Westeros America's Cup class and not receive justice! Many years I worked on monohulls and hah! you think you can change them to multi-hulls just like that! No, no no! It will no be! You will not treat me like that!"

She had to escape: there would be questions. But first that purse.

Tonight she would eat the finest roast meats.



Next
Previously

The Westeros America's Cup: Round 1

There were two crows on the ridge over looking Kings Landing and the rotting carcass of a sheep. One crow dug at the sheep's eyeball, loosening it, cawing in triumph. The other watched, as if waiting. Then a figure clambered from beyond, a giant, dragging a boy on a sled.

"Hurry" the boy said. "They might have started!"

The giant looked out over the city towards the sea, then started, pointing at the glistening waters.

"Hodor!" he said. "Hodor!!"

"So! It has begun" said Bran. "The Westeros America's Cup has begun. May the seven gods save us all!"

Out at sea two trimarans raced towards the mark. In one were grim men, lost, far from their home, their Wall.

"We are are starboard tack" said Jon Snow. "They must give way to us."

"You know nothing, Jon Snow" said a beautiful red haired woman. "Do you think the Wildlings will play by the rules? Are you such a fool?"

As if in answer there was a crash and over the hull's edge poured a flood of warriors, yelling screaming. The Black Watch battled hard and valiantly but were doomed, outnumbered. The foredeck team were beheaded, blood splattering across the number 1 genoa as torsos collapsed tangled in the sheets. The trimmers had time to get swords up but their enemies had spears, one of which was already jammed through a black coated chest, protruding out the back, glistening bright red in the sunshine.

But then there were trumpets and gleams of light as on either side rescuers arrived on racing skiffs, cutting down like grass the Wildlings, their limbs scattered like straw into the ship's wake. Two figures jumped onto the Black Watch's afterdeck, Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone and Davos Seaworth.

"This is done" said Stannis. "Finnish it!"

And so the first race was won.



Next

Sassi sails on Shade of Grays - part 4

Hi Guys!

So me and... Kevin... headed back to shore. The Thames estuary looked like I felt - a bit flat.

After we did the ropes thing again he said he had a favour to ask. At this point I felt like a massive G&T and a hot bath but said sure, 'cos, like, why not?

Apparently in the summer he'd lost his expensive prescription sun glasses in the lazarette and as I'm a "wee thing" (his words, not mine) it should be a "piece of cake" (ditto). So down I climbed.....

In the dungeon there were not just ropes but chains.....

OMG!! There really were piles of ropes and a muddy chain down there! And it smelled .... of diesel and damp. I slipped and got all wet.... yuck... yuck... yuck!!

"Any sign?"

The hatch slammed shut and I was trapped in the pit....in the dark, alone....

"No, can't see them - I'm coming out!!"

Then it was back to London so I can write this up for JP. But, hey, it was a thrilling gothic adventure - or at least it will be the way I tell it next time I'm out on the raz!

Even if the only shades of grey were between Kevin with his hair (geddit!!) and the Thames mud (ditto!!).

Just don't use the word claustrophobic, ok.

Luv yah!

Sassi xxx