EME
Active member
So there we were. Looking at a brand new Camarat 725WA with enough equipment in the car to fit-out the largest beast that Feadship could have thrown at us for a transatlantic passage. Where does it all go?
Usual form at this point would be for me to have a cursory look at the boat while I pretend to speak French. However things have changed, I am no longer the ‘Skipper Majore’. I have lost that role to a little lady with different aspirations.
The following is a transcript of what I think was said:
M Le Broker: ‘ A brand new boat with everything you need’
TB: ‘ Can I see your accreditation for the boat .. and the insurance certificate …and your proper ASF accreditation’
MLB ; “ Urrrgghhh… Are you buying the boat? This is a daily rental!’
TB ; “You haven’t been paid yet’
MLB: ‘ Mais bien sur’
So that’s what we did. Half an hour checking insurance and liability documents including the appropriate arguments about French cotisation inter alia. I want to go boating but TB has to have her way. It’s not that I’m averse to hacking off brokers you understand, it’s just that it is usually when I (kind of) return the boats not before I take them out.
The agent now has a queue of other day-boat wannabes waiting for his attention, and even TB can think of any more awkward questions to ask. Her coup-de-grace is still to come.
Tb: ‘We will pay on our return’
MLB: ‘ But how do I do know you will not steal the boat?’
TB ; “” (This a euphemism for a Gallic scowl) - Helen may have launched a thousand ships, but TB can sink that number of brokers in a heartbeat!)
For the first time in my chartering life I have a boat for a day without squillions of euros resting on its safe/fuelled return. Result!
We return to our boat, now a 725 WA may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it does have a couple of O/Bs and promises a bit of a laugh for the day.
Surely it is now time for me take control of the situation and demonstrate my superior qualities? Alas, I realise again that things have changed. No longer am I The Master. At least when I had enough knowledge to be dangerous I knew more than she did. Now I appreciate that her week’s boating has gone to her head.
Me: ‘Let’s get the booze on board’
TB: ‘No, we will do all the checks first’
Me: ‘Excuse me! Who is skippering this boat!?’
TB; ‘I’m glad you asked. On the basis of recent experience, I think it would be better if I took command and you did what you are good at.’
I forego the opportunity to ask what the last part of her statement might mean on the basis that I am a very proud man. Looks like I will have a day on the booze.
TB; “Engine and seacock checks please. While you’re at it can you make sure you understand back-up procedures in the event we run out of fuel? Also I want sufficient lines available in case of MoB, towing a disabled craft, or if we need to pick up my mother.
Me: ‘No’
This last statement has nothing to do with lines. Just a simple reaction to the prospect of my MIL being on board with me. I have studiously avoided her coming into contact with friends for years --- let alone in a marine environment. I am about to get a hard time.
I do the appropriate checks while TB lays out our Antarctic survival gear. The engines have been named after a Planet …Good. The boat has no water in it (yet) good. The fridge (too small) is working.
Time to go.
At this stage it is obviously normal that I take the hem while TB demonstrates her long--jump abilities. I am distressed. She takes the hem and starts barking out instructions’
TB: ‘Easterly wind – Lazy Line first please’
Me: ‘Never seen any of the buggers doing any work, which one is it?’
TB: “”
Me: ‘And what would Madame Bonaparte like next?’
Her response is censored. Suffice to say that I DO know who my parents were and there is no adjective emanating from the noun ‘prat’
We are OFF
TBC
<hr width=100% size=1><font color=blue>I am WHAT I say I am</font color=blue>
Usual form at this point would be for me to have a cursory look at the boat while I pretend to speak French. However things have changed, I am no longer the ‘Skipper Majore’. I have lost that role to a little lady with different aspirations.
The following is a transcript of what I think was said:
M Le Broker: ‘ A brand new boat with everything you need’
TB: ‘ Can I see your accreditation for the boat .. and the insurance certificate …and your proper ASF accreditation’
MLB ; “ Urrrgghhh… Are you buying the boat? This is a daily rental!’
TB ; “You haven’t been paid yet’
MLB: ‘ Mais bien sur’
So that’s what we did. Half an hour checking insurance and liability documents including the appropriate arguments about French cotisation inter alia. I want to go boating but TB has to have her way. It’s not that I’m averse to hacking off brokers you understand, it’s just that it is usually when I (kind of) return the boats not before I take them out.
The agent now has a queue of other day-boat wannabes waiting for his attention, and even TB can think of any more awkward questions to ask. Her coup-de-grace is still to come.
Tb: ‘We will pay on our return’
MLB: ‘ But how do I do know you will not steal the boat?’
TB ; “” (This a euphemism for a Gallic scowl) - Helen may have launched a thousand ships, but TB can sink that number of brokers in a heartbeat!)
For the first time in my chartering life I have a boat for a day without squillions of euros resting on its safe/fuelled return. Result!
We return to our boat, now a 725 WA may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it does have a couple of O/Bs and promises a bit of a laugh for the day.
Surely it is now time for me take control of the situation and demonstrate my superior qualities? Alas, I realise again that things have changed. No longer am I The Master. At least when I had enough knowledge to be dangerous I knew more than she did. Now I appreciate that her week’s boating has gone to her head.
Me: ‘Let’s get the booze on board’
TB: ‘No, we will do all the checks first’
Me: ‘Excuse me! Who is skippering this boat!?’
TB; ‘I’m glad you asked. On the basis of recent experience, I think it would be better if I took command and you did what you are good at.’
I forego the opportunity to ask what the last part of her statement might mean on the basis that I am a very proud man. Looks like I will have a day on the booze.
TB; “Engine and seacock checks please. While you’re at it can you make sure you understand back-up procedures in the event we run out of fuel? Also I want sufficient lines available in case of MoB, towing a disabled craft, or if we need to pick up my mother.
Me: ‘No’
This last statement has nothing to do with lines. Just a simple reaction to the prospect of my MIL being on board with me. I have studiously avoided her coming into contact with friends for years --- let alone in a marine environment. I am about to get a hard time.
I do the appropriate checks while TB lays out our Antarctic survival gear. The engines have been named after a Planet …Good. The boat has no water in it (yet) good. The fridge (too small) is working.
Time to go.
At this stage it is obviously normal that I take the hem while TB demonstrates her long--jump abilities. I am distressed. She takes the hem and starts barking out instructions’
TB: ‘Easterly wind – Lazy Line first please’
Me: ‘Never seen any of the buggers doing any work, which one is it?’
TB: “”
Me: ‘And what would Madame Bonaparte like next?’
Her response is censored. Suffice to say that I DO know who my parents were and there is no adjective emanating from the noun ‘prat’
We are OFF
TBC
<hr width=100% size=1><font color=blue>I am WHAT I say I am</font color=blue>
