Saturday was the all-day Mayflower 400 International conference. The eagle-eyed mathematicians amongst you will note that it is in fact 401 years since the Mayflower sailed in 1620. The conference was originally scheduled for last year and was to be a live event. It was delayed by a year and finally converted to an online format. This meant that there were attendees from across the globe, many of them watching at hours when most self-respecting folk were asleep.

After a very interesting and relevant introduction from Charlie Courtenay, Earl of Devon, Master Christopher and Mistress Agnes chatted about their lives in Devon in the fifty years since the Mayflower sailed. For various logistical reasons we had pre-recorded this, amidst a certain amount of issues, such as very loud, large tractors driving past, or the phone ringing at inopportune moments. Cue take 3, or 4, or 10.

After us, Cor de Graaf gave the Leiden perspective. I am so in awe of people who can present in a second language. After some friendly lunchtime chat, that is characteristic of Devon Family History Society meetings, Phil Revell told the story of the More children from Shropshire, who were dispatched across the Atlantic on the Mayflower, having been taken from their mother.

This was followed by Debbie Kennett, explaining the uses of genetic genealogy. Then a thought-provoking session from UK based, American TV journalist, Jim Boulden. He was analysing why lineage societies, such as that for Mayflower descendants, are so popular in the US.

Jo Loosemore told us about the problems of curating the Mayflower Exhibition at The Box in Plymouth, during a pandemic. Hearing about the ethos behind the exhibition, which incorporated heavy involvement from the Wampanoag, was fascinating. Unfortunately, now the day was virtual and therefore extended into the evening, I didn’t get to stay for Nick Barrett’s closing session, a real shame as Nick is always an excellent speaker.

Two years ago, I purchased tickets for the Torrington Bonfire. If you are thinking, pile of sticks, add a match, you couldn’t be further from the truth. I have been to three previous bonfires and these are truly spectacular events. They are organised by Torrington Cavaliers who spend two or three years building elaborate constructions, which are then burned, raising thousands of pounds for charity. Previous models have included the Victory, a Medieval castle, Trumpton and London’s Pudding Lane. So convincing was this last construction that a local estate agent was approached by someone trying to purchase one of the new houses that were being built on the common. This time, in another delayed event, it was the Mayflower that was to be consigned to the flames. The first thing of note was that this was a full-scale model and it really brought home just how small the Mayflower was and how hazardous that transatlantic journey would have been.

I am now going to get a bit ranty, so you may want to stop reading here. First, some context. In the past week Devon and Cornwall have been declared an area requiring enhanced response measures, due to levels of COVID that are twice the national average. In my immediate area, nearly half of all recorded COVID cases have been in the past month. Our major hospitals are on red alert. Although nothing is mandatory, extra caution, including continued mask-wearing, reducing social contact and regular self-testing is being advised. I have been doing all this as a matter of course anyway.

We debated whether it was sensible to attend a large scale event (the actual attendance was 9000). This would be the first time in eighteen months that I had intentionally put myself in a situation where there would be more than half a dozen people together. We reasoned that it was outside and we could remain on the outskirts, or even come home if we wanted to. We also decided to miss much of the preliminary activity and go later than we otherwise might have. Stupidly, we also thought that the recently announced need for particular caution might mean that people would be more considerate. Naturally, we resolved to wear masks.

We did indeed station ourselves on the periphery, in a place where we could see many of the other 9000 or so attendees passing by. We were several metres from anyone else until the very end when a raucous, large family pushed in front of us, despite there being plenty of space elsewhere. I passed the time waiting for the fireworks people watching and then with incredulity, counting the mask wearers. You might expect older people at least to be more cautious (nope – not one person who appeared to be over fifty, apart from us, with a mask). The first aiders then, they’d need to wear masks, wouldn’t they? No again, one out of the four that I saw. Out of 9000 people, of whom I estimate I saw well over 2000, sixteen, just sixteen were wearing masks, most of them children. I know we were outside but closer to the centre of activity, people were crammed in. Then, in what I thought was the height of irresponsibility, one of the live bands encouraged the audience to sing along. Bear in mind that most of the non mask-wearing audience were shoulder to shoulder with strangers.

I know I am over cautious, I know people are desperate for things to be ‘normal’ but I was shocked at the total lack of awareness and concern. I also know that mask wearing isn’t pleasant. It was the first time I had worn mine outside for several hours and as the night grew colder, I was either viewing the spectacular fireworks through a fog or wiping my glasses every ten seconds. No it wasn’t pleasant, yes it was a pain but I did it and willingly. Not only because I want to reduce my risk of being seriously ill, requiring hospitalisation or dying but I also want to reduce risks for others. I too want to go back to ‘normal’. I want going out to be safer for those with vulnerable, as yet unvaccinated, children and my immune-compromised friends for whom vaccines are unlikely to be effective and for whom COVID would be extremely damaging or fatal. I guess others who feel like me chose to stay away from Saturday’s event and attending was certainly out of character with my behaviour over the past eighteen months. I am still not sure if I regret going. I felt that for the most part, we minimised risk but it shouldn’t just have been up to us. This is a community issue and everyone should be playing their part. Vaccination helps but is not immunity. Outside helps but is no guarantee that infection won’t spread. Take care of yourselves people, take care of each other. So, a great event; the fireworks were particularly impressive, shame about the audience. I am sure if each one of those people was asked what they would do to save the lives of their children, grandparents, loved-ones, they’d say ‘anything’. We are not being asked to donate our kidneys, to do ‘anything’, we are being asked to be careful, considerate, human. I am not ‘living in fear’ or being dictated to, I am making informed personal choices and taking reasonable precautions to keep myself safe, in the same way that I wear a seatbelt, or exercise and eat reasonably sensibly. I can’t understand the thinking behind the behaviour I witnessed on Saturday night. I can only assume they think the risk is minimal that the odds are ‘it won’t happen to me’. I hope for their sakes their gamble with those odds pays off.