Hello, you lot!
Well – ask and you shall receive! Ever since announcing on the last post that this month would be dedicated to hearing first-person accounts of courier driver tales, anecdotes, and adventures, I've received more of them than I can shake a mouse at! I really don't know why Stevie didn't get that much participation from you people when he tried this a while back – were you all shy? You're certainly not shy with me!
But enough waffling from me – I always seem to take up a lot of space in these posts with this sort of rambling, don't I? Oh dear... Well, anyway, moving swiftly on to our first story, which was sent to me by Albert, of Shropshire. Albert is an older gentleman, like me, and like some people of our generation lived in the Pacific Islands for a spell (I was never so lucky). While there, he decided to start a delivery service – the only one in that particular group of islands, which he chose not to name. His account is about working as a courier driver in an island system, and involves a lot of potential sea-sickness...
'A few decades ago, I worked as a self-employed courier driver in a small group of islands controlled by the British. This was back before the days of technology or sophisticated lorries and vans; back then, things were much more rudimentary and organic. And nowhere is that better shown than in the actual 'delivery vehicle' I had to use now and again.
You see, deliveries around the island where we were based were fine – we had a rickety old van and a bicycle, and that was more than enough. But sometimes, things arrived at our firm that were meant to go to one of the other islands – and that's when we had to hop on board Charles's trusty motorboat.
Charles – that wasn't his real name, but we called him that and he was fine with it – was the main point of contact between islands. He went back and forth across the archipelago, delivering food orders and parcels, or just messages from people of one island to their friends or family in another. To carry out this job, he had a motorboat which – and many people agreed with me back then – should have been declared a public health hazard. It's a wonder none of us ever fell off, capsized or something similar! The thing looked like it would fall apart at any minute, the engine coughed and spluttered, and when the sea was choppy, you could bet sea-sickness was coming your way!
Despite that, there were never any accidents, and I delivered many a parcel aboard Charles's motorboat. So I guess you could say I wasn't so much a courier driver as a courier boater! Haha!'
A fitting start to our month of tales and adventures, indeed. Thank you, Albert! And as for the rest of you lot, I shall see you next week, for another reader story.
Until then, ta-ra!
Gertie
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