I recently listened to an audiobook of “Swallows (by Arthur Ransome) and Amazons” and it struck me how much their parents trusted them. Not only were they camping outdoors but on an island, an island they had to reach by themselves. The eldest child, John, was perhaps 14 years old, the youngest, Roger, only 7. Their absent father, away with the Royal Navy, gives his permission for this adventure with a telegram (see the title of this post).
The mother of the Swallows was Australian and certainly “outdoorsy”. She grew up on a sheep station and sailed (and capsized) in Sydney Harbour. She also mentioned falling asleep on horseback. And the books were set in 1929; a different time certainly.
I know from personal experience that my kids love the outdoors just as much as they love the Playstation and Nintendo worlds.
“Children’s lives have been evolving in a way that mirrors the characteristics of the lives of criminals in prison. They, too, have a roof over their heads, regular meals, and entertainment provided for them, but they are not free to go out. Enforced detention, and restrictions on how they spend their time, are intended to seriously diminish the quality of their lives. But children are not criminals.”
As much as I want to learn to sail for my own enjoyment, part of it is to provide something of a legacy. I went out on a boat with my dad once, a bulky motorboat which grounded itself on an island in Lough Neagh. I don’t know what happened to it. I went fishing with a friend of my fathers, Davy, a few times. We caught perch and pike and cooked them up. I used to camp in the back garden but as a child I never went camping proper.