An account of the Lundy meet, August 28th - September 5th, 1976

(Reprinted from the October/November 1976 newsletter)

Come gather around and sit yourselves down
And I'll tell you of a hot August Sunday
Of an Atlantic cruise on a boat full of booze
Of how me and the Boys went to Lundy----

We had twenty three bags, twelve boxes of swag
And unloadin' that lot we was fearin'
Bill's bottom dropped out, the Cap'n went about
"Must have a degree in Engineerin'!"

We all jumped ashore, t'were eggs by the score
And we crawled up 'till on our knees.
The girls looked fer grub, th'boys looked fer pub
An' I went an' found th'Big Cheese.

Now, hut was right neat, like Caer Fran on Fred's Meet
But we had to flush loo from a pail
As island was in drought, and when water ran out
We had to drink tea made from ale.

So while some were ecstatic and others parlatic
We got out the ropes and the gear
The sight of the rock was a hell of a shock
So we ran back to pub fer more beer.

Wit' new guidebooks in 'and we staggered around
Lookin' fer waysdown to th'climbs
But such is combination of bad guides an' inebriation
The routes were impossible to find.

After cursin' an' swearin' an' much trouser tearin'
We finally found a few cliffs
But once down th'rock, came next knee tremblin' shock
---V.S's disguised as V.Diffs!!

The truth I must tell, we gave that rock hell
On Shark Mark gave Bill a good lead
We opened legs wide and most did the Slide
And Diamond Solitaire gave some a few beads.

Cappuccino and Allouette and some Latin name I forgot
Gave us classic lines for their grades
And there was hard V.Diff. which hung out from t'cliff
With Alan and me and sling-----fer aid!

Meanwhile, back at the Barn it were flipflops at dawn
As George fer 'is Lesley's 'onour
The lad walked ten paces, unleashed 'is best braces
An' the Meet Leader's arse were a gonna'.

I fought fer me life and 'im fer 'is wife
'Till young Bowden's face were all red
Near th'end of th'bout, lights all went out
An' some bugger 'ad run off wit' me bed.

So in tradition of Wales, we supped a few ales
An' chucked a few arrers at night
An' all evenin' long we belted out songs
Then on th'last night was a fight----

There was this mental cockney, the old Youth of Brockley
Who lost all his gear and some hairs
He wrecked all th'beds, and kicked a few heads
And threw Alan Mullock downstairs

Now Billy Ed grabbed youth's bum, George rolled on his tum
An' Trevor tied his legs to his chest
But by use of the knee, th'Youth struggled free
And took a bite out of poor Alan's breast.

Now our President's our saviour, in matters of behaviour
And he put the Boys right in their place
He's a fine, solid bloke, never tells dirty jokes
An example of Innocence wit' Grace.

By contrast the youth, were a trifle uncouth
Like he went skinny dippin at night
His young wife, our Haze, said 'ow she were amazed
As his left were bigger than 'is right!

So we all sailed away, but wanted to stay
Right good place for a meet is owld Lundy
Next year it's a must, on twenty first of August
Make a date fer that 'ot Summer Sunday.