As every American knows the celebration each July 4th is to commemorate the adoption, in 1776, of the Declaration of Independence. This momentous document was signed a little over one year after the American Revolutionary War started in April 1775. This was, in my opinion, a war fought for righteous causes, the primary one perhaps being the right of representation for taxation, a belief which my British ancestors were loath to recognise those many years ago.
I spent July 4th this year in Charleston with my wife, son and daughter-in-law, respectively two recent immigrants, one naturalised American and one American by birth. A fun day was had by all culminating in an evening sail in Charleston harbour to watch, along with hundreds, yea thousands, of similarly minded boating enthusiasts, the magnificent firework display from the aircraft carrier Yorktown.

I was greatly impressed by the behaviour of all but a few of our fellow boaters. Among the misdemeanours of this minority were reckless speeding in crowded waters often under the obvious influence of alcohol and the frequent use of the emergency radio Channel 16 for idle chatter. The latter caused the patrolling Coast Guard no end of frustration.
     

I like to think that I am at heart a libertarian but with advancing years I am becoming more aggravated by the behaviour of an increasing number of my fellow men. I am inclining ever more to the need to resort to legislation to control irresponsible behaviour.

In days of yore, such as when those brave colonists embarked on a course of independence from the unjust laws of the British, there was, I believe, a greater sense of  respect for and responsibility to ones neighbour and the community at large. Far fewer laws were needed than has been the case in more recent years.

Mankind today is far too occupied with the pursuit of unethical hedonism as was evidenced on the water on the very day when democratic behaviour should have been foremost.
At the present time there is no need for boat owners, be it of a small run about or a multi million dollar yacht, to undertake a test and acquire a licence before operating their vessels. Imagine if such a state of affairs existed where the operation of an automobile is concerned!

There are good procedures and legislation in force governing the use of pleasure craft but more often than not they are beyond the ken of too many amateur sailors. I believe the time has come for yet one more piece of legislation. Specifically that every pleasure craft operator should be required to take a basic course, such as the one provided by the Power Boat Squadron, and obtain, by passing an examination, a licence.

Enough, I must get off my proverbial Speakers Corner soapbox and return to lighter matters or those few of my readers who seem to enjoy my monthly ramblings will desert me!

Obviously there is no such holiday as Independence Day in Britain. Some of my less reverent friends, with tongue very much in cheek, refer to July 4th as Thanksgiving Day. Rejoicing that for over 200 years they have been spared the problems on the other side of the pond as well as their own.

My old country does however have some other holidays, albeit not of equal importance but none the less worthy of note. I am thinking of, for example, St. Swithin’s Day and Pancake Day. Sadly neither is a Bank Holiday and thus does not warrant a respite from the daily grind.

St. Swithin (or more properly, Swithun) was a Saxon Bishop of Winchester and legend has it that on his deathbed he asked to be buried out of doors in order that he might be trodden on and rained on. His wishes were followed but subsequently the monks of Winchester attempted, on July 15th, 971, to remove his remains to a splendid shrine inside the cathedral. Their attempts were thwarted by a monsoon-like storm which led to the old wives tale that if it rains on St Swithin’s Day it will rain for 40 days in succession. Not an uncommon occurrence I recall during some English summers!

Pancake Day – Shrove Tuesday, was the old name given to the last of the three days before the Christian period of Lent, known collectively as Shrovetide ( from the word shrive, to confess). This period was one of abstinence, of giving things up. Shrove Tuesday was the last chance to indulge in forbidden foods such as fats and cream. Pancakes made from these two ingredients plus eggs became the traditional fare.

A tradition which continues in England even now is that of pancake races on Shrove Tuesday. It started in the village of Olney in Buckinghamshire in 1445 when a woman in the midst of making pancakes heard the Shriving Bell being rung in the village church. Being truly devout, and in her apron and clutching her pancake pan, she ran to the church.

Each year a race still takes place in Olney. It is quite famous and even televised. The winner is the lady contestant who, resplendent in apron and clutching a hot pan complete with pancake which must be tossed thrice during the race, covers the 375 meter course in the fastest time. The record for such an Olympian event was set at 63 seconds in 1967: who says the English cannot produce world class athletes!

The date of Shrove Tuesday varies. It falls 47 days before Easter Sunday. Thus it can be between February 3rd and March 9th.

I missed my pancakes on February 5 this year so I guess I will just have to retire to the kitchen and make myself a batch of ‘Crepes Suzette’, my preference to the thicker traditional pancake. That’s if my wife allows me near her kitchen!

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