Superstrath
Well-Known Member
Not mine, the boat's.
Was going to finish repairing the busted Sillette Leg on SC today, but the weather is not too clever, so say the very least. (It's blowing a full gale up here and raining like hell)
The original attempt to reinstall the thing (in the water, to save the cost of a lift-out) was cut short a couple of weeks ago due to great hilarity.
We had pushed the stern of the dinghy under the raised leg, and under the after part of the nacelle, so that the inevitably dropped components and tools would be caught in the boat. McPhail was in the dinghy, under the after deck, guddling with oily bits, when there was a sudden load bang, a whoosh of air and a muted squeal. He'd ripped a four-inch gash in the dinghy and sunk himself under the boat. I leapt ashore, round the back, and grabbed the painter, lifting the still-inflated bow as high as I could. When he soggily climbed back onto the pontoon, he demanded to know why I would be doing that.
"To tip you out, obviously," I replied after I'd stopped laughing.
So, several hundred quids-worth of leg bits, a knackered dinghy and a good few lost sailing weekends later, we might just get sailing again soon.
Alistair
Was going to finish repairing the busted Sillette Leg on SC today, but the weather is not too clever, so say the very least. (It's blowing a full gale up here and raining like hell)
The original attempt to reinstall the thing (in the water, to save the cost of a lift-out) was cut short a couple of weeks ago due to great hilarity.
We had pushed the stern of the dinghy under the raised leg, and under the after part of the nacelle, so that the inevitably dropped components and tools would be caught in the boat. McPhail was in the dinghy, under the after deck, guddling with oily bits, when there was a sudden load bang, a whoosh of air and a muted squeal. He'd ripped a four-inch gash in the dinghy and sunk himself under the boat. I leapt ashore, round the back, and grabbed the painter, lifting the still-inflated bow as high as I could. When he soggily climbed back onto the pontoon, he demanded to know why I would be doing that.
"To tip you out, obviously," I replied after I'd stopped laughing.
So, several hundred quids-worth of leg bits, a knackered dinghy and a good few lost sailing weekends later, we might just get sailing again soon.
Alistair