Batcamp 2005 - 26- 29 August 2005






Since the discovery of kite festivals in the summer of 2002, we rather gave up on the idea of going camp on our own, but over the August bank holiday a dozen of us (including half a dozen veterans of the first ever batcamp) decided to revive the old traditions

The plan was to set up camp on the Thursday night so's we'd not have to waste time on the Friday, but

what with one thing and another, by the time we'd unloaded the Espace on the Thursday night it had already

been dark for an hour so we thought we'd put off setting up until the Friday morning.

There was a bit of a delay in setting off to the Batfarm on the Friday morning as we suddenly remembered

that Martin's tent leaked at Teston kite festival, and so there was a quick side mission to town to buy him a new tent.


Then on arriving at the farm there was some consternation when we realised that "Poof 1",

the flagship of the Poof fleet had sprung a leak, so there was a two hour mission

to Dymchurch to buy a new rubber boat.

And then half an hour was wasted discussing the merits of buying an inflatable shark. (more of that later..)

And whilst we were at the seaside it would be daft not to have an

ice cream as well, or to miss out on a walk along the prom....


... but bear in mind that some of us had promised to do all the camp setting up so

when others arrived they could get straight on with cooking tea.

There's no denying that by 4pm with still no tents up, we'd left things a bit late.

Still, a concerted effort, and no one was any the wiser about our time-wasting.

Tea was good !!, and we sat up till the small hours telling knob jokes.


Some of us are more camp than others. Some were comfortable in just our undercrackers.

Others cannot perform the justly famous armpit washing ceremony with four layers of clothing on.

Bernie however felt the cold.


It's something of a tradition that Saturday lunch is scoffed at a local pub.

There's quite a few pubs round the Bat-farm that are good.

The Smarden Bell is a four-pinter !! (and the food's not bad either)


Back to base camp for a cup of coffee and a well deserved rest.

Drinking beer to excess is hard work, and whilst some of us slept it off, the more hardened

drinkers continued the "fish challenge" at the fishing pond.


Now with only three layers on, Bernie cooked rice for the evening meal

"Chicken a la Hooch", which at the time was something of a tradition at Bat-Camps.


After a good scoff, we sat round watching the stars, satellites & shooting stars

till late, but not so late that we could see Orion.


That night there were a lot of strange sounds, the strangest of which emanated from "Hobbiton",

home of our friend newly arrived from the US of A

the return of the prod-it-all


After a chilly start, Sunday became really hot, so hot in fact that several layers had to come off !


And then it was time for the Battle Royale......


Stealth attack mode

preparing to repel boarders

the battle of the duck house

the pirate fleet

the remains of the defeated poof fleet

There's no denying the battle didn't start as well for the pirate fleet as it might, with one third of the fleet falling in the pond rather than gracefully

alighting the battle crocodile. Also it didn't help that "Attack Mode Crocodile" was a bit of a flop in that the inflatable crocodile was

easily captured by the opposition.

We came out of the pond thankful that it was Lisa who'd bought the inflatable crocodile, and that we'd decided not to buy

the inflatable shark at Dymchurch.

Still, history is written by those who can be bothered to write it, and the pirate fleet was eventually victorious.


Meanwhile back at the camp some of us were still soaking up the ambiance. Others were soaking up the Hobgoblin.

Quite a lot of that got soaked up !!

Which leads on to the piss-catorial challenge in which some were more pisc-ed than others.


I AM CATCHING A FISH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Daaaaave.... will you unhook it pleeeeeeeeeeze

Lisa demonstrates the second part of the traditional fishing chant

Having been told he snores like a girl, Luke Warm was determined to throw off the accusation

That he fishes like a girl too.

Which was a silly thing to do, as it turns out that girls are at best at fishing,

and they aren't scared of maggots or the fish either.

The Scores:






"The Fish-Mistress"



"The Apprentice"



"The Master"




We caught well over a hundred tiddlers and, having braved the electric fence and moved them into the newly dug out pond,

it was tea time. Bernie did the rice again.

The rest of the evening was spent around the camp fire.

However our Webmaster can confirm that Orion was there when he had a 4 a.m. tiddle.


The Monday was forecast to be the hottest day of the weekend, and so after a quick fishing session

that we shall gloss over, pausing only to mention that the amount of fish caught is not

as important as the fun that is had (which is only the case when someone else catches more)

we packed up and moved the stuff back to the car park via Tina-power.

hic !


There is an on-line archive of photos from this camp you can see it by clicking here