Why chaps must be king of the castle

THE ART OF BUILDING SANDCASTLES:

FOR a man, a trip to the beach always ends in sacrifice.

All he really wants to do is lie back, relax and top up his tan, but he can’t help feeling obliged to get up and build a sandcastle.

It’s for the children, of course, and even though mine are too young to be interested for more than two minutes, I can’t help feeling I’d be letting them down if I didn’t step up and wrestle the spade off them.

It’s a test of your prowess as a man in full view of your loved ones, other fathers, other children and women other than your wife which is why I suggest keeping your chest tensed throughout the building process.

Make sure you’re in the right area of the beach.

Too close to the water and the sand will be soggy, too far away and it will be too crumbly.

Importantly though, you need to be close enough to the sea for it to fill your moat because you can’t set off home until it does.

Don’t worry if you haven’t got an architect designed plan or any proper tools.

The whole point really is that you battle on with the bucket and spade your little girl uses but I did spot one competitive dad with a JCB on a beach in Cornwall a few weeks ago.

I begin by drawing the shape of my intended castle and then I start digging the moat and throwing the sand into the main building area.

Dig, throw and pat. Dig, throw and pat. You’ll soon get into a rhythm and after a few hours the base structure should be complete.

From here you begin filling buckets and covering your castle in turrets. Forty will be enough.

Finally, a few shells the children have collected should take pride of place at the top of your castle.

After all, the whole point is that you’re building it together.

Loudly announce that, “It’d take a tsunami to get rid of that.” before you sit down and prepare to convince doubting passers by that you did actually do it by yourself, all on your own, with that little pink spade.

The moment the water drops into the 6x6in channel you cut and completes a circle around your masterpiece, it’s time to pack up.

Your work is done.

As you leave the beach, it’s traditional to turn one last time and savour a final, lingering look.

I also have one final thought and it’s the same every time. “I’m definitely bringing some scaffolding next time.”


Next week . . . The Art of Having Authority