Sunday 21st August 1938

Sunny morning! Lois. Boat to Sheerness. Through the dingy town and along the coast until we’d gone far enough to be beyond the trippers. Half-way down the cliffs we sat and lunched. Put Lois’ yellow jumper on my walking stick as a flag. “Quarantine. Not to be approached.” (My knowledge of ships’ signals was already rusty. I’ve since found this means:- “Q. My vessel is healthy and I request free pratique!”)

We sat on a high, aloof pinnacle and saw our shadows poised, on the beach below. We remembered the time. Walked rapidly back. Fifteen minutes late at the Pier. Rain fell. We had tea and in the appropriate apartments – a jolly good wash.

Train to Chatham. Train to Gravesend. Train to Southend. We ate surplus sandwiches. “Have another,” I suggested. “No” said Lois, “I’m FUFTB” “What’s that?”
“Full-up-fit-to-burst!”

The B and AV; and again we forgot the time. An irate Victorian parent waited at the gate – 11:45. Wasted money through missing that blasted boat. I do so want to save – now.