Breasts At The Marina

How on earth did I end up on the pontoons at a Marina with my breasts exposed?! That’s a very good question. This, after all, is a restricted area…

A short while ago SWL and I met for a mooch, think A Leap Of Faith on tour in Plymouth? We’d planned to find the cannons– that we have both walked past dozens of times- and then grab lunch at Cap’n Jaspers. While we sat munching on our hotdogs SWL became engrossed in a text chat. I didn’t think anything of it, took the time to relax and enjoy the view. The boats, the water, the people queueing for lunch, the buildings and cobbled streets.

“Can you see where this might be?”

SWL dragged me back to reality, pointing at her phone, a screen shot of a map. A friend of hers owns a boat which just happened to be moored at the marina. The screen showed his boat to be located at a pink spot. She thought it would be great to get the boat in a Scavenger Hunt picture of the marina and my boobs. But there was a problem. If we squinted, we’d probably be able to spot it from our seats if we knew exactly where to look. Which we didn’t, because we couldn’t work out where we were on the map he’d sent. Let alone where the boat was in relation to us.

So, we got up and went for a walk. All around the water’s edge, skirting around the car park, trit-trotting down the cobbled path, and up beside the Marina. Here we peeked over the fence for a boat we couldn’t locate. “He said we can go down, take a closer look. He’s given us the code to the entry system, but I don’t know…”

At this point a workman passed us, asked if we were OK.

We explained the situation- well, most of it, both preferring to omit my exhibitionist side- and he offered to take us down to the boat. I guess two well-spoken, middle-aged women appear safe? We don’t give the illusion of being a threat to the millions of pounds of floating money he worked with.

Through the gate we went, down the ramp, across the pontoons, between row after row of sleek, beautiful hulls until… “Here she is”, he pointed to a boat to our right. We ended up having a nice chat with the workman, about all sorts. Including dog safety aboard ships, his surprising preference not to sail and, typically, the weather. Eventually he excused himself, he’d work to do and asked if we’d be OK getting back to the reception area. We did, and he left us to inspect the boat, on behalf of SWLs friend. This gave us the space to take a picture on the marina, breasts out, surrounded by these big, beautiful boats.

Some might say this trip to Plymouth was a leap of faith for us, and it was certainly a lesson in “if you don’t ask you won’t get”. Thanks to the kind man who helped us arrive at our location, and SWLs kind friend suggested we go down and check out the boat in the first place.

While writing this post I had a thought that I’d already got the location, so some intense checking ensued. The post Safe Harbour and Sneaky Boobs was shared for the location Harbour/Marina/Port. I found (with a lot of hunting through the locations list) this one would be shared for Marina/Pier. Which means, instead of just sharing for Boobday I can also bag another location for the Scavenger Hunt.