My dad was never one for boats. He’d avoid them if he could. I have a childhood memory of him walking along the Richmond riverbank, keeping pace with the rest of our family as we rowed chaotically along the Thames in a hired boat. We waved across the river and giggled about his insistence on staying ashore.On family holidays, he approached any journey that would take us across water – the catamaran to France, the ferry to a Greek island – with a clenched jaw, and face set with reluctant acceptance.As a landlocked London child, I found these journeys thrilling, and always assumed it was...…My dad was never one for boats. He’d avoid them if he could. I have a childhood memory of him walking along the Richmond riverbank, keeping pace with the rest of our family as we rowed chaotically along the Thames in a hired boat. We waved across the river and giggled about his insistence on staying ashore.On family holidays, he approached any journey that would take us across water – the catamaran to France, the ferry to a Greek island – with a clenched jaw, and face set with reluctant acceptance.As a landlocked London child, I found these journeys thrilling, and always assumed it was...WW…