I always swore I'd never do it. As friend after friend succumbed to the trend, Radders stood alone, refusing to kow-tow to nautical fashion. Finally I've given way. My excuse is the bright sunlight and its reflection from the water, tired eyes and advancing age. I've bought what a good friend refers to in all innocence as a Dutch Cap. You know. Black wool peaked thing that Harold Pinter used to wear at home in Notting Hill Gate. The hat that pipe-smoking nautical authors are pictured wearing.
The only problem is, I'm so self-conscious about it, I daren't wear it in public. I think I need to take it fishing a few times, get it a bit salt-stained, rub fish-scales into the brim and that sort of thing. But there it is. I've turned from a normal person to a Dutch Cap wearer.