Book review

  • Thread starter Thread starter Deleted User YDKXO
  • Start date Start date
D

Deleted User YDKXO

Guest
I'm a bit of a sucker for books about motorboating and I recently bought what I consider to be comfortably the worst motorboating book I've ever bought. This book is called Life is a journey; Why not live it aboard a trawler and it's available here http://www.amazon.co.uk/Life-Journey-Live-Aboard-Trawler/dp/055710078X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1309365833&sr=8-1 if you're so inclined although I strongly advise you not to buy it.
The title of this book suggested to me that it was going to contain tales of motorboat cruising derring do in monster seas and remote anchorages with helpful hints and tips on life on a liveaboard cruising motorboat. Its actually nothing of the sort. The first disappointment is apparent before you even start getting into the book as you soon discover that there are only 60 odd pages written in a very large font and with only a few blurry black and white photos. Thats as good as it gets because as you get into the book, you begin to realise that the couple who wrote this book have actually got very little boating experience and what they're actually writing about is living aboard a boat in a marina rather than cruising anywhere it it. This is confirmed later in the book when they give an authorative looking pie chart breakdown of their boating costs which states that only 3% of their budget is allocated to fuel. Then you find out that they only budget for cruising 500 miles a year which explains why they spend so little on fuel but doesn't explain why they bought a Nordhavn and not a houseboat. There's a whole chapter explaining what an aft deck, saloon, staterooms and galley do which is a complete waste of paper followed by a chapter on choosing a marina which contains essential advice on checking that your power cord reaches the shorepower socket and ensuring that the electricity supply is sufficient to drive your aircon and margarita blender simultaneously.
However the piece de resistance comes later in the book in a chapter on monthly boating costs which gives another authorative looking graph on estimated annual costs of running a boat. For reasons not properly explained, the authors have baldly stated that the cost of keeping a boat increases exponentially year on year. They have based this statement on their whole 2 year's experience of owning their Nordhavn 40. If you read the graph, you will discover that by yr6, their estimated cost of maintaining their N40 will have risen to over $100k a year and if you extend the graph further, they will be spending over $200k a year on their boat by yr10. This, of course, is complete rubbish. If a 10yr old 40ft motorboat doing 500nm a year cost more than $200k a year to keep, there wouldn't be many of us boating. And, by the way, none of their figures mention the major cost of owning a motorboat from new ie depreciation. What is more concerning is that a boating newbie reading this book might be put off for life from buying a motorboat. Amazingly, the authors of this book give lectures at Nordhavn get togethers. I can only surmise that Nordhavn owners enjoy a laugh. The book finishes with a stupid chapter on what the authors call The Emotional Wave of buying and owning a boat. This is amateur psychobabble and is of no value whatsoever to existing and prospective motorboaters.
So, in conclusion, I advise you strongly not to buy this book. Anyone who is still not convinced is welcome to have my copy. I will extract it from under one of our kitchen table legs and send it free of charge to the first person who sends me a PM with his/her address.
 
I dont think they will be able to hold to those cost figures if people start handing round unloved copies of the book. Its a brilliant idea;write a useless book,stick on Amazon, and the proceeds will pay for your hobby.
Let me see...
"Dawn broke over the.....
To be continued upon payment.
 
I would be a bit of a sucker for books about motorboating as well, if I could locate any good ones that is!

Deleted User, just wondering (this one being the worst) what do you rate as being the best?
 
A quick calc of 500 miles at say 2mpg = 250 galls = guess at $500.

If that's 3% of annual budget, the full budget is $16,666.

Not sure what depreciation on a N40 is from new. Well regarded boat, 2005 model is up for $560k (Yachworld) so even at 5% depreciation it is $28,000.

Dep $28,000
Berthing $10,000
Fuel $500
Insurance $2,000
Servicing $2,000
Lift, antifoul, misc etc $1,000

$43,500 rather than $16,666, um you may be right, the costs are a little under-estimated :-)
 
I would be a bit of a sucker for books about motorboating as well, if I could locate any good ones that is!

Deleted User, just wondering (this one being the worst) what do you rate as being the best?

+1 I have been trying for ages to find some good motorboat based novels
 
I reckon we could get some better books out of some of the forum members experiences.

Most ( all? ) of us would probably be useless at writing one though, what we need is a decent ghost writer to do the job.

I would nominate HLB as the first, with his tales of exploding bogs and sinking?

What do you think?
 
I would be a bit of a sucker for books about motorboating as well, if I could locate any good ones that is!

Deleted User, just wondering (this one being the worst) what do you rate as being the best?

Aigua, undoubtedly the best boating book I've ever read is Heavy Weather Sailing by Peter Bruce. The book is mostly aimed at yotties of course but there is a section on motorboats and there are more general sections on meteorology and preparation for heavy weather. The book mainly consists of real life case studies on how boats survived and, in some cases, didn't survive heavy weather situations and some of these case studies make absorbing reading.
The second boating book I like is called Mid Size Power Boats by David Pascoe who also runs this website http://www.yachtsurvey.com/. This book is an exhaustive and rather dry analysis of motor boats and their systems and is a good read if you really want to know how motor boats are built and how they work, or not.
The third and last book I would recommend is Voyaging Under Power by Captain Robert Beebe and updated by James Leishman (of Nordhavn fame). This book is a really good read if you're interested in long distance bluewater cruising in small motorboats. Beebe was the first person to lay down the principles of the design of bluewater motorboats and he put those principles into practice. Leishman analyses the design of several seminal bluewater motorboat designs and has written further sections on preparing a motorboat for long distance cruising and managing it's operation at sea. This book is a bit of bible for long distance powerboaters and is about as far removed from Life is a Journey; why not live it on a Trawler as its possible to get.
Sorry, I dont know of any novels involving motorboats unless Howards Way was ever published in print!
 
I reckon we could get some better books out of some of the forum members experiences.

Most ( all? ) of us would probably be useless at writing one though, what we need is a decent ghost writer to do the job.

I would nominate HLB as the first, with his tales of exploding bogs and sinking?

What do you think?


Loads of stories in the forums olden days.

By Coliholic and tcm

OK for those of you who missed it first time round and especially LJS, here's the background story first. August 2000 and we'd had our boat trucked from the River Ouse in Cambridge to the Broads for the summer and I really fancied bringing it back home by sea. I'd done the Yachtmaster theory course the previous winter, but had never been to sea before in anything smaller than a P&O ferry. I posted on this BB a request for someone to show me how to do it and had a few offers, one of which turned out to be from the irrepressible Matts. After a couple of 'phone conversations I decided that maybe he did have half an idea as to what he was talking about and I'd let him come along as safety skipper and we arranged to meet up at Gt Yarmouth to do the 98 mile trip back to Kings Lynn.


The following is matts report of the trip, written of course in his inimitable style, which I managed to find hidden away on the C: drive under some obscure title..


Showing him the way to go home, and a weird engine problem. Posted by matt s on Monday, 25 September 2000, at 11:00 p.m.

Some of you may have seen the "show me the way to go home" posting a month or so ago. I volunteered to go along, and so after much faxing and calling, we met up last weekend to take colin's boat Aquaholic from Great Yarmouth round to King's Lynn. I arrived late in the afternoon to find Colin tweaking some part of the propellor, and then was shown round the carefully arranged flares, lifejackets, radios, spare radios the full listing of all relevant telphone numbers and radio channels on which to call various relatives, coastguards and harbours, detailed typewritten passage notes and spare copies, and about a hundred quids worth of new charts. The liferaft was in position, and he'd even taken me seriously on the Mars Bars. Of course, I nodded wisely at all this in the manner of someone who had carried out the same meticulous preparation ahem, and wondered quite why he needed me (or anyone) along at all. But this was his first time at sea, hence his posting, so one of the items, quite rightly was "someone who's been there before". Yes, we'd be able to see the navigation marks from at least a mile away. No, his riverboating mate who talked of "mooring up" to a named cardinal marker in the wash couldn't realistically have done that without either a massive steel boat, or a wild imagination. Initial checks done, we made the final preparations which were of course to go and find a restaurant and drink loads of wine, then come back and check the charts again, and then drink some more. I had been agitated by the weather, and I wondered if Colin was being a bit too fixed with his plans by not countenancing a reschedule even though the forecast was 4-5 maybe 6, albeit following southeast with following neap tide. I felt that perhaps he had asked for forecast after forecast until he had found one that he liked. As it turned out, he was right and I was being too cautious. Anyway, I said, as we leaned against the wind blowing firmly although not frighteningly over the seawall during an evening look-see at the entrance the night before, the very worst would be right at the start of the trip, so we could bottle out immediately and creep back in. The next morning and colin was ready with the bacon and eggs, and the call to the coatsguard and everything else. I'd brought a handheld chatplotter with a suitable route, staying a bit nearer inland than colin's longer route around the light blue. Aquaholic is 30 feet long, a Fairline Mirage. It could just about crack 20knots, although it rarely saw more than six or seven before this trip. Colin was cautious about the state of the river, and commented how it looked a bit rough. I knew that a mile further down he'd find the meaning of rough, as he asked for advice on how to negotiate the bungalow-sized waves awaiting him at the entrance. I told him to stay in the middle, keep going at six or seven knots, and er hang on, and that we could see it was much less rough a bit further out. Once out of course, it's rather difficult to get back in. But all seemed ok with a following sea although the engines groaned as each wave came up and took the boat off the plane down to 12 knots, followed by exciting acceleration down the other side at almost 20knots. After a few hours we'd made it past Wells, and the sea had become much calmer as the inland route shielded us from the worst of the south easterly. The sun shone. We whooped as we launched down another wave. Colin became almost perfect at holding the plotted track within 100metres. I commented that really I ought to be paying to come on the trip. Some of colin's mates called him on his mobile to ask how it was going. Apparently they were colleagues from his office who'd had a sweepstake that I wouldn't turn up, or that he'd bottle out, or worse. Then we saw a thick trail behind us of black oil. I alerted Colin to it. He throttled back and as I peered over the back, and although there were no other adverse sights or sounds, he reported a total loss of oil pressure to the starboard engine. I took the wheel as he opened the engine hatches to have a look. He turned the strbrd engine off as I held a course in ten metres of water, not far from sandbanks. The oil level was fine. He tried to restart, but it failed to respond. Indeed, the staboard panel failed even to show any electrical life whatsoevrer at any key position. We were now in a fairly serious position with only one engine, no bolt-hole until the lock forty miles away at Denver sluice, currently showing on the gps with an ETA of 12 hours away. Colin was understandably distraught, and sat down in the cockpit aghast at the situation. Perhaps we should call the coastguard he asked? I said that really we can't call the coastguard to tell them we've only got one engine, or that volvos are no good, or that the boat is a bit slow, because they'll tell us to get stuffed or words to that effect. Going back to Wells wasn't really an option: against the tide and sea we'd only make three knots and have a rotten time of it. The options were to drop anchor and try to fix it, but lose the option to continue because of the lock time. Or try to go back. Or continue on one engine and try to fix at the same time. I turned up the port engine, took back the flaps, asked colin to run off the water tank to save weight , and see what we could get out of the one engine. Eight knots. We'd go. Now running more carefuly, we could risk sneaking round closer to the sandbanks to save time. With the reasonable speed, and a tighter course it would add about three hours to our ETA, but we'd make the lock. Let's go. We rumbled along in silence. Colin made numerous inspections of electrical bits and pieces, but couldn't get any sign of life from the strbrd engine. Perhaps it hadn't siezed at all? The oil behind us that I'd seen could simply have come from the bilges pumps, maybe? The "total loss" of oil pressure could have been colin mistakenly unfamiliar with the high/low oil pressure at high/low revs. Anyway, we were back on target to make the lock ,albeit much much later than we had planned. The mood lightened. I said that I suspected that this was all a surprise "test" set up by Colin, and challenged him that he was in fact a very experienced and highly qualified boat instructor, who had rigged up the entire scenario, and as soon as we got through the lock he was going to turn the engine back on and give me a badge for not going to pieces in the middle of an engine failure. Colin unfortunately said that this was not the case. A 45-minute rainstorm hit us an hour or so later, and colin commented that without the other engine we'd be in deep ****, we had a laugh as I pointed out that now approaching the river we were only in about 5 metres of ****, which wasn't very deep at all. Colin got back to top form as we went up the Great Ouse, and he was now able to do some "Rivery" things like make a cup of tea and have biscuits. I suggested that he should set up a table and have a nice tablecloth with a proper flower arrangement if he was going to get truly Rivery. We finally made it made it through the lock and out of tidal water ten hours after setting out from Great Yarmouth. As colin had correctly predicted, the weird engine problem wasn't confined to one engine: once moored up, he turned off the port engine, and it too completely failed to restart. Net result is that colin's got more sea experience than he bargained for and saved a lot of fuel, albeit got some odd electric problem which allowed his engines to start and run, but not restart if switched off, and I'm cured of any creeping desire to bring my own boat back from the med. He said the main switches are both on, as thyey were at Great Yarmouth. Good stuff eh? And any ideas? Perhaps Colin is indeed the very serious boaty instructor and I simply failed to get a badge because I should have know to er whatever.

So that's my (and matts) Christmas offering of great adventures, more contributions needed from you all.
 
I'm very fond of this one, from tcm. Always a tendency to mingle with the rich and famous - though of course it was before the days of hob-nobbing with Joe Jnr:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just got back from a 2-week tramp from antibes to Palma majorca, via corsica, and then 240 miles crossing to menorca, and following day to palma on newish leopard sport 23. Finally in palma, club de mar, few days spare getting boat fixed, ready to leave it there for 3 weeks on charter, and then we bring it back to france via barcelona late august.

Swmbo bombed off shopping on a Goped (see goped.com) and reports that a v friendly chap remarked at the gopeds, almsot as if he already knew us. She pointed him out. I didn't know him ( i think) but he was there at the bar so I said hi. No, we don't know each other, but I'm matt, and he's bruce, and he bort us a drink. And yak yak with rest of the load of people, he seems to know loads of people, almost everyone who turns up, v popoular chap it seems.

One of them has a Princess 48 but it has problems so they are just staying in it. Another has a sailing bioat, as does bruce, who westely sealord is in Conway. And we have a leopard 23. "Nice boat" says bruce, but not sure he knows about it, but no matter, we chat on with massive group bout maybe bringing down a 40' sailyboat to the med or maybe not. And those duff elbows on the princess.

So we all ordered some more drinks, and I proterst that I shd pay for this round for chrissakes. But he wdn't have it, so seeing as how he is boatless and I have to go now, I sed praps he cd come round the boat sometime? Okay, maybe. There's plenty of room, no prob, I said, but he 's doubtful. It's 75 feet long, so he says cripes blimming heck ey oop you sed 23? It's 23 metres. Bloomin nora says Bruce.

Next day he came round quite late, and blimminek etc. etc at the boat. My son looks at Bruce and says he's seen this guy on the telly. Humm, don't think so, i think he's in transport, cos the others all are. But anyway, we get along fine with Bruce, so praps he wd like to come along tomorro for a little spin? Can his little gang come along too, he asks? Of course.

The following day he turns up with his wife and the others, who know a bit about boats. So I say look Bruce, my lad says you are on telly? That's right says bruce. What a load of ****, I thought you were a hydraulics experts on trucks! No, says smiley Bruce, I play Les Battersby on Coronation Street. And his wife confirms the same, as do all the others. Hmm. Who the eff is Les Battersby?

The wind is from the west so we go a few miles up the coast and hide in a bay, which turns out to be Palma Nova, next door to (ugh) Magaluf. But the bays are nice. We have lunch on board, and bruce and gang all very jaw-droppy bout the boat. So he must be massively lying bout being on the telly as we all know they are rich as hell. But he seems not quite as tecky as I first thought. So maybe he is v specialist bout the hydraulics and just knows about Leyland Daf, and nothing else maybe?

After lunch we go ashore in the dinghy to find a bar. I admit that this was my suggestion, cos after all if he is famious then loads of people would know him, right? Hah. We walked along the front, past loads of "british" bars. It's a bit naff. Well, it's very naff indeed. Loads of holidaymakers leap out the bars and mob Bruce. Others say "eyup Les!". My wife apologises for suggesting coming ashore, but he seems fine about it. I half-heartledly imagine that he must be a really very fabulous truck fitter in the north west, praps like Red Adair?

Soon, my kids jeered at me for still sticking to the hydrualics fitter theory. Bruce signs loads of autographs and has his picture taken. Even the spanish waiter gets all 10 of us a nice table, and says what a fan he is in broken english. We order drinks, and more drinks, and lot of people come up and get a pic with bruce, and some even buy us all some more drinks. His friends said it's actualy quite fun meeting out-of touch types like me who haven't the faintest clue about les battersby, and we all had a fab day, eventually playing rackety disco music on the foredeck on the way back to Palma. The kids kept me away from the cd player and played all new stuff: Elvis Presley and Kylie Minogue. Who?
 
Cant post the exploding bog, long gone. It will remain a mistery till the end of time.

There is the worst skipper ever and the, Show me the way to go home MK2.

Or Tales of the river bank.

MBY Golden Oldies, what mobo used to be about.
 
Now children if your all sitting comfortable, then I’ll begin.
We kept our last boat. A Princess 33. In Pwllheli in North Wales.
Now Wales is great apart from the Welsh but theres no where to go to except Portmadock which is only about seven miles round the corner. So for any visits for more than a couple of days. Ireland is the next easiest option.

Now every year we plan (Well I do.) an extended world cruise, which lasts about three or four weeks.
This one was planned for a far away place called Scotland, but taking the scenic route via Ireland.

So bright and early, about eleven o’clock one summers morning. Of’s we sets for Wicklow, it’s about 65 miles from Pwlleli and the course takes you through the Bardsey sound. Bardsey is a small Island about a mile off the coast and the sea between has a fearsome reputation. But anyway we sploshes through that and on to Wicklow, a place we’ve been to many times before so nowt more to be said about that! Next stop was either Dun Laoghaire or Howth, cant remember now but that’s Dublin for Colin and other thickies.
The next stop was Carlingford Lock. It was here that the weather turned distinctly lumpy, so we’re
hold up for three day in a not to pleasant spot. Now on the fourth day, her indoors who hates sea unless its been plastered down dead flat. Announces that its time to go. Well the weather didn’t look any better at all in my eyes, But on the other hand, if wife says its ok, then it must be!

So offs we churns to Strangford. Now I’d put my Princess 35 into any sort of sea and with maybe a bit of reduction on the throttles or even wide open if sea is behind, but I think that with the earlier 33.
Princess were still juggling the figures and hadn’t quite got there yet.

Now the book says. Don’t attempt to go into Strangford unless tide coming in. Cos first it goes out at seven Knots and then it sort of piles up in a big heap at the river entrance. Anyway we must have arrived five minutes too soon cos it was all ten foot lumps every where.

Anyway we makes it to the entrance to the lough and the weather improved and then the lovely people in Strangford finds us a buoy to park up to. Then its off to the Lobster Pot for Lobster thermidore. Which was fantastic. Then the pub across the road, just to round the day off.

So its back to the boat in the trusty dinghy and slightly pissed about midnight, and off to sleep.

I was woken up about an hour latter by the engine ignition buzzers, which for some reason had decided to go off.

Anyway in my drunken, tired state, I thought I’d just shut the buggers up by turning off the master switch and deal with the problem in the morning.

All I had on was a tee shirt and nothing else, but what the hell!

Now the switches are located by the engines out the back door and its pitch black.
So I lifts the engine cover and feels down. I’ve only got to about half way down the engines when my hand goes all wet!

It was about this time when I wakes up and becomes cold sober. And a bit deathly white as well!

So I’ yelling at th-wife to get up and shouting down the radio at the same time.
No answer from radio but th-wifes come to a bit. Chucks wife in dinghy and tells her to go and find help.
Then has a brain wave. Switch bilge pump on. Ah but that’s no good cos some pilock has put it on back to front and its blowing instead of sucking.

End of part one.
 
Now. Here you have to bear in mind, this very true story was written in the year of our lord, circ. Humm! 1997/8 and through the constant pasting and copying, blown confusers etc, etc. This bit got lost. So I’ll try and reenact it.

In desperation, I trys the vain hope that an engine will start, bit ridiculas as the batteries are under water!! So I turns the key anyway. Low and behold, it starts. Now I don’t want to hydraulic two of them, I’m quite happy, one will do.

I chucks the rope off the buoy, switches on the search light and heads for the nearest beach., which happens to be just at the side of the harbour wall and adjacent to the village green. Even had the forethought to raise the legs as I approached the beach. The boat came to a grinding stop, I lurched on deck and grabbed a rope.

There’s a man with accompanying dog, sat on the park bench, quite bemused at what’s going on. Anyway, I throws him the rope and he ties it round the park railings.

It’s a hell of a drop off the bow of a beached P33, but some how I made it. Took disregards of the man on the bench and headed off to the jetty to find the wife.

Reaching the jetty, there’s a group of guys, which turn out to be the life boat crew. What there doing on the pier at am I have no idea. But I rambled through the tale and said I needed pumps! Well they said, they had no pumps, but in any case I was beached and ashore and did not really need any help!!

So I casually asked if they’d seen thwife. No they says. So now they had a real rescue to deal with!! Just then the wife comes chugging along. Seems she had bee hanging on to a buoy for the last hour or so. Trying to turn the throttle the wrong way round. Amazingly the engine carried on running on tick over and in gear. With a seven knot current as well. Some how the guy on the bench comes back on the scene , long extension leads from his house and a big pump as well! Anyway this is Dermot. So back to the plot!


So next morning Dermot arrives and then along comes his side kick Chris.
Now Chris had an old or very old MG. You could hear it coming from the other side of the lock, he was meaning to buy a silencer for it and some new tyres, but not a tax disc cos there English things
And Northern Islanders don’t believe in paying England Government nowt.

problem with sinking is soon discovered as a hole in the back end where the prop shaft goes through transom and into outdrive. It’s worn through the bearing and also bell housing. But the tides coming back in fast now, so next brain wave is one of those cans of foam builders use these days.
Ah but the shops at other side of lock. It’s then discovered that Dermots Business is running the Strangford ferries For the MOT. So its on to radio to captain of ferry, to pick up a can of foam and nip back sharpish.

Foam aimed at hole minutes before tide comes in and crane ordered for lift onto Quay.

So the boats afloat again and crane arrives. It’s the oldest thing you’ve ever seen, bloke hands down some worn out three ton straps and boat gets lifted onto quay.

Nice guy lends a geny. So its set up home on the harbour wall, which sort of doubles as village green and prom.
Loads of people ask if we want showers or to stay at there house.

So engines out in no time, new bell housing and other expensive bits thrown in and in a couple of days its another crane and back in the water, Mainly achieved by wife standing at bus stop and waiting for bus to deliver parts. Cos that’s how they do it.

So it’s off now for water born road test. So verruming out of harbour all very impressed and Dermot brought all the family for the ride.

Only got 100 or 200 yds. When the noises changed and the other drive stopped.
So its back to the Quay and another crane.


By now me Dermot and Chris, have got quite skilled at this craning and engine in and out lark.
The general plan is. Chris does all the donkey work whilst me and Dermot officiate and make wise sounding noises.

Strange really cos Chris spoke with a very upper class English accent.

By this time, I’ve taken up residence in Dermots office ordering cranes and engine bits.
Dermots garage is full of treasure for propping boats up and winches and pumps and scaffolding poles.
All the village now best friends and become local celebrities in the pub.

So engine and drive are out and then in again with again much more parts and money.

And another crane. Then the test.

Well I think we got a bit further this time but not very much. There’s an engine overheating but only when planning!

Also all the sea water down the hold and engine room is now starting to show effects.
Even though we’d done everything to clean and power wash the lot.

But the starters packed in, the alternators, and I cant remember what else.
But there was a nice little repair man down the road, so he’s mending as fast as there breaking.

Well every thing to do with water is pulled to bits and four days later still no joy. We’ve even had boat on the beach twice, to see if trouble was in or around the drive leg.

Anyway it ‘s got desperate now so again Chris is summoned and told he must go diving under the boat in the freezing water.

No problem. And there it is a little rubber pipe with a hole in it!
So new rubber pipe Chris mending under water, freezing cold.

We’ve now Been in Strangford three and a half weeks. I’m happy to take up residence there but wife’s thinking she’s never going to get home. I don’t think the oily mess helped a lot.

Now firm friends with Dermot and wife.
We are telling each others life stories.

Dermot had a Big old motor boat in Belfast, for doing trips and corporate entertaining. Four engines in it!
Also the tale of Sailing off to the Azores in, well his other boat which was a big saily thing fitted with everything. That was cos he’d sort of fell out with the tax man so had to go away for six years!

Guess yuv noticed, the humour’s slipping a bit now, and only use one finger, Long Johns cheating like buggery and using two.

Anyway as you’ve guessed we are all getting a bit pissed of by now so tomorrow were going regardless.

Must say though that Strangford lock is one of the most beautiful and friendly places I’ve ever been. Even the police are friendly and there carrying machine guns!
And believe it or not the grass is greener in Ireland, cant explain it, but its true.

So where were we. Yes Ok we’re going!

So ready for off but one engine wont start. Bugger it it’s still going, so jump lead out and that sorts it.

Ahh. Yer not getting off that easily. I’ve not done yet. Yer goin to suffer!

Down the lock and out to sea. Donk the GPS goes, don’t care we’re still going.
Some where anyway!!

We’ve decided that IOM is the best spot cos not to far and what else can go wrong.

Now have you ever tried to steer a 33 off a compass? With waves throwing the boat about and compass going round and round. Its impossible to know what going in a straight is.
So about half way we stops to ask a fisher man. Don’t know what the hell there doing. But radio’d him, blew horn and buzzed all round him three times. Till he took any notice.

Its over there he said, and so many degs thingies.

So Gets IOM.

Next stops Holly Head. So I figure that if I keep the radar on longish range. Either Wales or IOM will always be in view. Well it was’nt.
So Try’s to raise coast guard for bit of help but no answer.

Anyway Wales eventually comes up on radar but never been to Holly Head before so I’m a bit confused. But now able to speak to coast guard. Hope I’m never in real trouble!

Where are you he says?
I’ve got a light flashing on a rock at so many seconds. No its not he says it should be so many flashes.

Count one to ten backwards he says, and we’ll get a fix on you between us lot and Liverpool lot.

So I counts one to ten then dose it again. Never did come up with a position.
Anyway theres a bloody big ship coming out of somewhere in front. Now that must be Holly Head.
Then there’s a yacht comes on the radio and says.” I’ll help you in”, “what speed are you doing”.
“Eighteen knots, I reply.” “Well would you slow down and wait then.”

“SLOW DOWN!! Bugger off!”
 
Aigua, undoubtedly the best boating book I've ever read is Heavy Weather Sailing by Peter Bruce. The book is mostly aimed at yotties of course but there is a section on motorboats and there are more general sections on meteorology and preparation for heavy weather. The book mainly consists of real life case studies on how boats survived and, in some cases, didn't survive heavy weather situations and some of these case studies make absorbing reading.
The second boating book I like is called Mid Size Power Boats by David Pascoe who also runs this website http://www.yachtsurvey.com/. This book is an exhaustive and rather dry analysis of motor boats and their systems and is a good read if you really want to know how motor boats are built and how they work, or not.
The third and last book I would recommend is Voyaging Under Power by Captain Robert Beebe and updated by James Leishman (of Nordhavn fame). This book is a really good read if you're interested in long distance bluewater cruising in small motorboats. Beebe was the first person to lay down the principles of the design of bluewater motorboats and he put those principles into practice. Leishman analyses the design of several seminal bluewater motorboat designs and has written further sections on preparing a motorboat for long distance cruising and managing it's operation at sea. This book is a bit of bible for long distance powerboaters and is about as far removed from Life is a Journey; why not live it on a Trawler as its possible to get.
Sorry, I dont know of any novels involving motorboats unless Howards Way was ever published in print!

Thanks for the tip Mike - I have just ordered Heavy Weather Sailing from Amazon! I'm off to the Algarve next week (without my boat) so perfect timing as I have been looking for a good read!
 
Top