Once whilst on a sailing holiday using a chartered yacht and with three male friends (all in our twenties or thirties), we crossed from Scotland to a smallish village in Northern Ireland. On entering the nearest watering hole, as many will do, we seemingly were looked at as if we were brazen SAS commandos in disguise - and being quite flattering perhaps - and given the silent treatment, which one of my friends noticed immediately. We had moored up against the nice pier but on the advice of a local we were advised to move - which we did and subsequently anchored in the bay. The Irish troubles were current then so perhaps the locals had reason to suspect us but I like to think that being mistaken for SAS operatives, even if rather laughable, was one of my better moments as to being assessed. Or it was simply that they hated the English. 
Anything similar?
PS Returning to Scotland saw us all probably encountering our first gale in a small boat, me definitely and as to being the skipper, but no doubt we all remembered this particular episode more than much else during the holiday.
Anything similar?
PS Returning to Scotland saw us all probably encountering our first gale in a small boat, me definitely and as to being the skipper, but no doubt we all remembered this particular episode more than much else during the holiday.
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