tcm
...
I have rediscovered the joys of solent boating. After sqeezing thru the porto solente lock late thursday, i then discovered that several forumites are also in PS. Zefender for a start, who was discovered late at night escaping on a small dinghy (acyually 40 foot but it looked very small) off to the channel islands.
On saturday i happened across mjf aka "the commodore" with whom we had a very sophisticated glass of champagne on friday nite. He is on D (for "drunks") pontoon. On the sunny saturday he and his mates were well away, running out of wine shortly before 2 pm, so i brought some over and helped them out at drinking it. Then we ran out again so i orgainsed the kids to bring over some more.
At one point mjf started rabbiting about how clean his boat was but i set him straight, and i was evidentaly so sloshed that i showedim how to clean the thing, first with hlb's boat remover on the plastic, then with two-part teak cleaner. That's learned him.
Mjf's neighbouring boat arrived back late saturday. Being meddish, i sat on the flybridge and watched quietly, expecting yet another smooth and uneventful parking procedure. Being solenty, they all ran around like headless chickens. The chickens were correct - this nutcase proceeded to impale his transom on mjf's anchor. If you had said "i want you to slice lumps of the transom with the anchor of that boat over there" i am not sure i could have done it quite so neatly.
At about this time, mjf's mate with a boat further up the pontoon, had run off to the bog. But his bog had failed, and now he was trying various fuses. My idiot wife volunteeered me to fix it, so bogpaper up the nose, and head down the bilge, mjf's mate insisted upon trying various fusues each of which lit up and failed. So, i dismantled the macerator, and rather amazingly after sevral bottles of wine, put it back together.
Back at the party, Mrs tcm had suddenlt lost it with mjf's neighbour, toldim in no uncertain terms what she though of his antics, and was kindly escorted back to our boat where she passed out until 6 am sunday.
Mjf and his mates have decided to go to whitecliff bay, so mjf get's his chart out the nite before. Very solenty. And his dividers too. Even more solenty. It's 8.4 miles. Hm.
Sunday, i decided that the entire place was filthy. Also, Observer had threatened to come round. So i spent an hour clesning the pontoon, so that our bit is clean, and likely help keep the boat clean too, even if runing to the shorepower again. Whereas all the other boats are about as clean as your house would be if surrounded by mud on all sides.
Ohm, the shorepower is crap of course. I can blow up the 32 amps with a dishwasher and a washing machine. It may explain why some brits boats have crap appliancers innem.
Not to worry, off to the folly, where the dinghy garagge blows up and i go ape with the kids for not just getting on the taxi. But then it gets fixed. In the pub carpark, somebody wangs into the landlady's car. Observer's kids get their painter aroudn the prop. Is this set up as entertainment for me? It can't be like this all the time can it? At least the PS lock is much bigger than i rememeber it. The bloke leans out of the window and say that i have to turn the engines off in the lock. But the engines ARE off - that's the generator. hee hee.
Observers kids want to stay on our boat on the way back. Small observerette asks exactly which tummy the children come out of, and is it that the gilrs come out of mummy's tummies and the boys out the dads? I agree that this is very logical, but explain that all the babies come out of the mummies tummies, and sometimes they are girls and sometimes they are boys. She is unconvinced so i agree to check again. I think that's right isn't it?
<hr width=100% size=1>
On saturday i happened across mjf aka "the commodore" with whom we had a very sophisticated glass of champagne on friday nite. He is on D (for "drunks") pontoon. On the sunny saturday he and his mates were well away, running out of wine shortly before 2 pm, so i brought some over and helped them out at drinking it. Then we ran out again so i orgainsed the kids to bring over some more.
At one point mjf started rabbiting about how clean his boat was but i set him straight, and i was evidentaly so sloshed that i showedim how to clean the thing, first with hlb's boat remover on the plastic, then with two-part teak cleaner. That's learned him.
Mjf's neighbouring boat arrived back late saturday. Being meddish, i sat on the flybridge and watched quietly, expecting yet another smooth and uneventful parking procedure. Being solenty, they all ran around like headless chickens. The chickens were correct - this nutcase proceeded to impale his transom on mjf's anchor. If you had said "i want you to slice lumps of the transom with the anchor of that boat over there" i am not sure i could have done it quite so neatly.
At about this time, mjf's mate with a boat further up the pontoon, had run off to the bog. But his bog had failed, and now he was trying various fuses. My idiot wife volunteeered me to fix it, so bogpaper up the nose, and head down the bilge, mjf's mate insisted upon trying various fusues each of which lit up and failed. So, i dismantled the macerator, and rather amazingly after sevral bottles of wine, put it back together.
Back at the party, Mrs tcm had suddenlt lost it with mjf's neighbour, toldim in no uncertain terms what she though of his antics, and was kindly escorted back to our boat where she passed out until 6 am sunday.
Mjf and his mates have decided to go to whitecliff bay, so mjf get's his chart out the nite before. Very solenty. And his dividers too. Even more solenty. It's 8.4 miles. Hm.
Sunday, i decided that the entire place was filthy. Also, Observer had threatened to come round. So i spent an hour clesning the pontoon, so that our bit is clean, and likely help keep the boat clean too, even if runing to the shorepower again. Whereas all the other boats are about as clean as your house would be if surrounded by mud on all sides.
Ohm, the shorepower is crap of course. I can blow up the 32 amps with a dishwasher and a washing machine. It may explain why some brits boats have crap appliancers innem.
Not to worry, off to the folly, where the dinghy garagge blows up and i go ape with the kids for not just getting on the taxi. But then it gets fixed. In the pub carpark, somebody wangs into the landlady's car. Observer's kids get their painter aroudn the prop. Is this set up as entertainment for me? It can't be like this all the time can it? At least the PS lock is much bigger than i rememeber it. The bloke leans out of the window and say that i have to turn the engines off in the lock. But the engines ARE off - that's the generator. hee hee.
Observers kids want to stay on our boat on the way back. Small observerette asks exactly which tummy the children come out of, and is it that the gilrs come out of mummy's tummies and the boys out the dads? I agree that this is very logical, but explain that all the babies come out of the mummies tummies, and sometimes they are girls and sometimes they are boys. She is unconvinced so i agree to check again. I think that's right isn't it?
<hr width=100% size=1>
