I met Ken in the late 70's during my period back in England, a man of few words but plenty of action. Not a friend just an acquaintance. I had been employed by an electronics laboratory which closed down due to a recession in the UK at that time. With no employment prospects.
I decided to develop an electronic instrument for sale in the market place. The metal cabinet required printing, and I was given an address in a local town. I found it to be in a residential area not commercial. The printing press was situated in a shed located in the garden. This was my first meeting with Ken.
Shortly afterwards his business life however accelerated when he was visited by a tourist company with a sizeable contract to produce their brochures which enabled him to move to a small factory unit then eventually to a larger unit on an industrial estate with more printing presses and employee's.
During my visits he learned that I was at sea during WW2. He had a canal barge on the Norfolk broads Great Yarmouth, and on occasion he would invite me there.
As mentioned, " a man of few words but plenty of action" He decided to sell the barge and purchase a sea faring boat, and asked me if I would go with him to seal the transaction. After a 3 hour drive my first sight of the vessel really impressed me. A 3-berth cabin cruiser with separate wheelhouse and navigator's room. We sat with the owner to do the transaction. Ken opened his attaché case with just bank notes inside. The owner would not obviously accept a cheque. I sat quietly as they counted and passed over the notes. They shook hands and the previous owner left.
Ken looked at me "I want to take her for a spin before we go back" I hesitated, it was late afternoon and although it was clear the sun was getting low in the sky. We cast off and headed down river and into the North Sea. Ken was enjoying every minute at the wheel, the engines flat out, oblivious of time and conditions. By the time we got back to the mouth of the river it was dark, and the tide was out leaving a sand bank just below the level of the water. Not wanting to run aground I sat at the depth sounder looking for a gap for us to enter the river, which we discovered had only enough water to keep us afloat and by now it was dark. We steamed up and down the river but could not find the entrance to the harbour. Suddenly car lights appeared from a high hill shining down on the harbour entrance. They must have realized we had a problem. We never did find out who those kind people were.
On subsequent occasions Ken would invite family and friends and having my wartime certificate invite me to navigate. He later passed his masters exam.
For safety reasons with passengers aboard we just sailed up and down the coast not out into the North Sea. I always remember the first time. They were all tucking in to eggs and bacon etc. before leaving the harbour. I suggested they ease up on the food with no avail. Before long the boat was pitching and rolling with the in incoming tidal waves and they were all hanging over the side. I sat in the navigator's cabin thinking " I warned you"
Once Ken had obtained his Master's certificate, he was qualified to take passengers without me.
By that time, I had become a director with an engineering company requiring my full attention, consequently my association with Ken receded into the background.