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enlisted in boxing classes. I quite took to this sport, eventually becoming the
                school boxing captain. We had enjoyed being taught by Mr Mallard, a PT teacher
                of the highest quality, who taught us that, properly coached, one need not be
                fearful of most things that at first glance might frighten or seem dangerous. So
                effective was his teaching that when I went on to public school, I could with
                ease fulfill all the gymnastic requirements that few of my class-mates would even
                attempt. At Warsash, there was no real sporting activity, but we were taught self-
                defence by a formidable Royal Marine sergeant (their barracks being nearby),
                whose  first  advice  was that,  especially  when  overseas, one’s best defence  is  a
                good pair of heels (too true, as I later sailed with a second mate who was stabbed
                to death in Houston because he refused to hand over $25 to three thugs, and
                he actually possessed a black belt in judo, second dan, I believe; his feeling of
                security was entirely chimeric). Additionally, during the first term at Warsash,
                one of those in our ‘cabin’ of six was Al-Husseini, a heavily built young Iraqi
                of somewhat fearsome appearance. On one occasion, he expressed a visceral
                hatred of everything Jewish. I remonstrated, some of our London friends having
                been decidedly and proudly Jewish. He rose to what he regarded as bait, but
                remembering basic principles in confined spaces (hit target – bridge of nose,
                throat, bottom of rib cage – not often, but first, and as hard as possible), I stood
                ready. He stepped back; how often does one have to learn that bullies abhor
                defiance? (To give balance to the tale, there was another senior Iraqi cadet in the
                school. He was very much a civilised gentleman; actually, one learned a great deal
                about other nationalities at Warsash – which were things one certainly did not
                learn at boarding school – because there the government subsidised the training
                of foreign students. We even had a Swiss cadet, hardly a nation known for its
                merchant marine!).

                   Thus, when presented with a threatening Plumridge, I had a choice. I knew
                that he was quite well-muscled, but I felt that I could take him on fairly easily,
                as I knew that I had a heavier punch than most and I had a target probably not
                much accustomed to dissent. But, on the other hand, although I had a witness to
                all of this (Young was with us), it would certainly be unseemly and hardly likely
                to generate much favour amongst all those with whom I then worked and would
                undoubtedly work in the future. The downside seemed too considerable for any
                minor demonstration of macho superiority.

                   I gave him the seat … somewhat to my personal regret in later years.

                   Back on the bridge, however, I was not inspired by the eastern Mediterranean.
                Far from it being semi-tropical, there was a continuous cold north-easterly wind,


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