Wullie and Dode go rowing
Editor | Friday, Jan 13, 2012 | Comments 0
Wullie and Dode are distraught when their drinking buddy dies, but they know that his last wish was to be buried at sea, so they have the body released to them from the mortuary, hire a rowing boat and set off from Balmedie Beach. At about 50 yards out, Dode swings over the side and finds himself up to his knees in water.
“Is it deep enough, here, d’ye think, Wullie?” says Dode.
Wullie scratches his head for a moment. “I dinna think so, Dode. Come back in ower and we’ll head oot a bittie farrer.” Dode clambers back into the boat and Wullie rows out another 100 yards.
Dode swings over the side again and finds himself up to his neck. “Fit aboot it noo, Wullie?” he says. “Is this deep enough?”
Wullie rubs his chin and says: “I doot ye’re gey shalla yet, Dode. Howp yersel back in ower and we’ll try a bittie farrer oot.” Dode clambers back in again.
After another hundred yards, Dode swings out over the side and disappears for a full 30 seconds. Just as Wullie is beginning to panic, there is a sudden thrash as Dode breaks the surface, gasping for air. “Fit aboot here, Wullie?” he says. “Surely we’re deep enough noo.”
“That’s fairly deep enough, Dode,” says Wullie.
“Right,” says Dode, “gie’s the spaad.”
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In the May, 2013, issue, Norman Harper gets a telling-off for ignoring an old North-east Scottish superstition.
