HOME TO SCOTLAND
After four years away from home, the English coast was finally in sight. It was time to celebrate – but it was teatime, and we were under way, so we baked some scones and put the kettle on. Just as they came out of the oven, crisp and golden, a voice came down the companionway. ‘We’ve got company. They look official and it’s not on AIS.’ Popping up to check, there it was: the grey hulk of a military-looking vessel approaching us quickly from astern. Before we knew it a fast rib detached itself and in minutes a very serious looking team of men and women were alongside and boarding Barracuda – no questions asked. Welcome aboard Border Force.
They inspected, quite thoroughly, the boat, our papers and our stories, with frequent radio checks back to the mothership. They were polite but firm and stayed with us for about half an hour: the freshly made tea and scones might have had something to
