Estonia

A few weeks ago, while I was over in the UK, my uncle passed away. He had been suffering from cancer; his death was not unexpected.

But it was still a shock and a shame.

I toasted his memory in a pub in London with my friends.

Today, he will be cremated. Only in England could the process of a cremation and funeral be complicated and delayed by road works, but that is the way it is over on Tyneside this year.

I cannot be there. Newcastle upon Tyne is long way away from home. But it doesn't mean that I cannot spare a few thoughts.

Back in my childhood. In the spring of the year that The Stranglers released “Black and White”, I visited Newcastle for the first time. It is the first memories I have of my cousins, my aunt and my uncle. I know that I had met them before, but this is the first time that I recall being with them.

I was in awe of my uncle. He was physically imposing, confident, bold and funny. He was also caring. I recall feeling safe around him. He drove a Citroen DS with its “self leveling suspension”. I was smitten.

We stayed in the suburbs of Newcastle for a few days before we headed north into Northumberland. To Beadnell. I stayed in a caravan for the first of only two times in my life… I don’t like caravans… I was young enough to see it as the most incredible adventure.

I have memories of trips out into the countryside, but my key memory was of the afternoon that my uncle took my father, my brother and I out in the small boat – a sailing dinghy - that – I believe – he co-owned.

My memory may be wrong, but it was a blue. Therefore, it was blue! I don’t know if it had a name, but I will call it "Estonia".

I was scared. If you've not seen the North Sea, it rarely looks comforting. It’s not a flat, azure pool. It always looks choppy. To me, mostly it is green grey and rough looking. I was a little kid, I was petrified.

Please excuse my nautical terminology. I know nothing of sailing except this experience and an adventure watching turtles on a pedalo in Zakinthos.

The boat was small. Space for no more than four or five people. I remember the instructions that my uncle gave us before we set sail. I recall the cold of the water as I set off to climb aboard. I recall my uncle taking me in his arms to lift me into the craft. And I recall the excitement and the fear…

Once out into the sea, my uncle started to show off. He started to have fun.

The balance of such a small boat is delicate. Given my poor physics knowledge, I guess – I reckon – that the tight turns that the craft are capable of are dependent on the efficient shifting of weight to counter the wind against the sail. The weight of its occupants prevents the boat tipping over. That sounds reasonable, doesn't it?

So, my uncle starts to perform tight turns on the water. My brother and father are having to wait for his command to move from side to side. They scramble left to right - is that port to starboard... I don't know -  trying to avoid to boom as it twisted and turned searching to catch the wind. Neither my brother nor father have ever been the most athletic or agile. I remember them seeming to crack their heads on the boom each time they were forced to move. My uncle worked them hard.

And all the while, I was sat at the back of the boat, out of the way. I had been instructed not to move, not to touch anything but to hold on tight.

As my brother and father stumbled around the boat, apparently at my uncle’s whim, I started to find it funny. And I remember my uncle catching my eye. He smiled as I giggled and giggled and giggled as my family jumped at his “Captain’s” commands. And that look will never leave me. I saw a caring, warmth alongside a wicked glint of fun.

Over the years our family have had their ups and downs. Good and bad. Details too personal to share online. Communication between myself and my aunt and uncle drifted away to near nothing after the late 1990’s.

But I have never stopped caring.

Ken Stewart.

Uncle Ken.

RIP

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"No one leaves you

When they live in your heart and mind

And no one dies

They just move to the other side"

Estonia