There’s fuc*k all on Rockall   57°35’48”N 13°41’19”W
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  Monday 11th July 2005  Rockall Ho!   Powered by Yeast Logic
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Britain hails new sporting colossus

Forget Henman Hill and Murray Mountain...
by Ahoytheyrr Maytee

The Rockall Ho! 2005 team atop the sacred isletAll eyes have been turned towards the frozen wastes of the non-frozen North Atlantic these past weeks as the exploits of a group of sailors and adventurers appear finally to have achieved the level of recognition that they have long craved... and deserved.

The highest peak left unconquered in the 21st century in the north Atlantic finally fell to human — or near human — feet when a crew of highly-trained and highly-motivated and highly-paid explorers finally scaled the scaly and slimy heights of the peak that is Rockall.

Fearless leader Lester Haines had raised spirits with a short address before the crack team boarded their leaky tub although he had to be halted halfway through when it was realised that his references to "hard in victory, magnanimous in defeat" and "we are here only to free the Iraqi people", was probably the wrong speech.

"I am going outside now, I may be some while," he continued once the voyage had commenced before realising that this to was not quite the right thing. The captain of ship resolved the matter of his endless speechifying by having the brave leader kept manacled in the brig for most of the trip to Rockall and back pausing only to let him out to act as the "back-up climber number five" for the dangerous ascent of the rock itself.

Incredibly, the assault on "the Mount Everest of the Atlantic" was a success and led to the planting of the Haines family coat of arms on Rockall and his being granted rights in perpetuity to graze his sheep over the eastern half of the territory. Reports speak of his delirious happiness on the return trip being so great he never complained once of not being allowed back on deck.

As the team landed their small craft at the humble Scottish west coast fishing village of Deep Fry they were met by cheering crowds and a ticker-tape welcome. "This is the proudest day of my life", said a tearful local crofter only visiting the village to stock up on full-strength whisky and tabs of acid. "I never thought I'd see this day. What's it all about?".

A beaming and now free Haines was last seen quayside buried under a pile of muscular Scottish bodies as locals tried to pinch, squeezes, or grope the merest part of his toned, fit body in a vain attempt to transfer some of the credit and kudos from him to them. "I want to have your babies Lester," echoed the cry from several dulcet voices — a few of them female.

At a less-than-packed media conference, a modest sounding Haines was asked for his summary of what the team had found. Pausing only to brush the merest hint of a tear from his gimlet eyes and the heavy weight of a fortnight's accumulated fulmar droppings from this thick mop of hair he summed up thusly: "There's fuc*k all on Rockall."

Editorial note

This is not the first time the above correspondent has made merry at our expense, and we suspect it will not be the last. Rest assured, however, that he is currently cleaning guillemot guano from the team's climbing equipment with his tongue.

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