hlb
RIP
Meekatharra\'s Jubilee Celebrations!
Well everything started quite wonderfully. 310 miles to Plymouth in about 4 hours. Met on the marina car park by my neighbours. Mr and Mrs Y Knot! Lurkers around these parts apparently. But still looking for the post button?
Down to the boat and kettle on ready for Mr & Mrs Y Knot to arrive. Then very convivial conversation and chat. It was about this time that I perceived that strange rumbling sound you get in your stomach every now and then, but not wanting to look antisocial to my guests. Chose to ignore it for a while. Y Not crew start to depart, so grabing the opportunity. Hares down to the bog. Uuggg!! Then looks round for the toilet paper. There is none! Meanwhile I can hear Tutts voice, still talking to the neighbours. So hangs about a bit till they’ve gone. Then yells to Tutts to find some paper sharply. So there I am expecting a box of Kleenex or a spare roll of toilet paper to arrive at the door.
A hand appears through the crack in the door. Clutching about three yards of super industrial strength, special Volvo oil removing, mechanic proof, paper!! Now this is not the time for a row with Tutts and a detailed description of the workings of a marine toilet. So I does my best and carts on regardless. Then as I had suspected. The pump handle goes rock solid. Never to move again.
And so the jubilee celebrations started on Sunday afternoon in bright sunlight and lovely calm sea. The first game at the party, after removing the pipe from the toilet. Was. Hunt the obstruction! Now I’ve got a thingy a bit like one of those cranes they have in the amusement arcade at Blackpool. You know the sort I mean. You stick ten pence or whatever in and then try to pick up a teddy in the claws of the crane. Well you get the idea now. Anyway I usually use this to collect my glasses from down the bilge or the kettle whistle from down the back of the cooker. So on with the party. It was a revelation! And quite exciting too. Wondering what would come up next! Bits of plastic and then lumps of rock. It was just like Treacle Mining! And so the joviality’s continued all that day and into the next, by which time I’d decided that you can have to much of a good time. We’d tried everything. Long drills made from coat hangers, and even connected the dinghy pump on the end to blow the bugger out. But to no avail. So now desperate. Rings my mechanic. Not expecting him to come down, but maybe he has any ideas. Bloody super star. There’s a dinorod bloke on his boat and he’s got his van with him!! So off I trots and would you believe, dinorod man comes and wizzes his thingy up and down the pipes. And all finished in a few minutes. Would not take any money. What a bloke. Ah but it’s not over yet. Bloody pipe to the pump is at an impossible angle. And to cut a long riveting story short. The pumps cracked with all the force on it and oh well never mind.
Tutts is upset. Hmm thinks I. And so with a satisfied smile at solving her dilemma.
Passes her the ships bucket! So problem now solved and it now being late afternoon on Monday. Off we go to Cawsands, and as if just for us, there’s a stage on the beach. Excitedly we wait for the fun to begin. When along comes three spotty faced kids with guitars, walking down the road to the stage. You’ve never heard a racket like it. So backed Meekatharra up to the beech and let rip at full welly with her two un-silenced exhausts. Just to deaden the noise.
The itinerary of the planned cruise now being some what limited by lack of bog and the need to have one close at hand. Of we goes across the 40 miles of bay to Falmouth,
Where it rained for the next couple of days. So with the weather forecast saying a peculiar F4 to 5 to 6 or 3? From SW.
Shunts off back to Plymouth.
Next morning we are met by a bloke who shall remain nameless. Just to protect the innocent. Accompanied by two big dogs and the best floozy in the world. Now last time I said he was the dog handler but he says he didn’t like that, so this time I wont.
Anyway the doggy man is looking for a cat, if that helps! So off we goes for a little trip round to the river Yelm. The waves were enormous and nearly came up to the top of the antifouling, alarming the SWMBO’s quite a lot!!
Oh and I forgot. Remember Coliholics dolphin , that was once Weymouth’s dolphin.
Well it’s Plymouths dolphin now. Right up the river Cattewater . with a bloke in a wet suit playing with it and scratching it’s tummy for ages. And the dolphin preservation society. Want Tutts film that what she made of it. Cos they arrived a day late and missed it!!
You cant have fun like this anywhere!!
No one can force me to come here-----------
----- I'm a Volunteer!!!
Haydn
Well everything started quite wonderfully. 310 miles to Plymouth in about 4 hours. Met on the marina car park by my neighbours. Mr and Mrs Y Knot! Lurkers around these parts apparently. But still looking for the post button?
Down to the boat and kettle on ready for Mr & Mrs Y Knot to arrive. Then very convivial conversation and chat. It was about this time that I perceived that strange rumbling sound you get in your stomach every now and then, but not wanting to look antisocial to my guests. Chose to ignore it for a while. Y Not crew start to depart, so grabing the opportunity. Hares down to the bog. Uuggg!! Then looks round for the toilet paper. There is none! Meanwhile I can hear Tutts voice, still talking to the neighbours. So hangs about a bit till they’ve gone. Then yells to Tutts to find some paper sharply. So there I am expecting a box of Kleenex or a spare roll of toilet paper to arrive at the door.
A hand appears through the crack in the door. Clutching about three yards of super industrial strength, special Volvo oil removing, mechanic proof, paper!! Now this is not the time for a row with Tutts and a detailed description of the workings of a marine toilet. So I does my best and carts on regardless. Then as I had suspected. The pump handle goes rock solid. Never to move again.
And so the jubilee celebrations started on Sunday afternoon in bright sunlight and lovely calm sea. The first game at the party, after removing the pipe from the toilet. Was. Hunt the obstruction! Now I’ve got a thingy a bit like one of those cranes they have in the amusement arcade at Blackpool. You know the sort I mean. You stick ten pence or whatever in and then try to pick up a teddy in the claws of the crane. Well you get the idea now. Anyway I usually use this to collect my glasses from down the bilge or the kettle whistle from down the back of the cooker. So on with the party. It was a revelation! And quite exciting too. Wondering what would come up next! Bits of plastic and then lumps of rock. It was just like Treacle Mining! And so the joviality’s continued all that day and into the next, by which time I’d decided that you can have to much of a good time. We’d tried everything. Long drills made from coat hangers, and even connected the dinghy pump on the end to blow the bugger out. But to no avail. So now desperate. Rings my mechanic. Not expecting him to come down, but maybe he has any ideas. Bloody super star. There’s a dinorod bloke on his boat and he’s got his van with him!! So off I trots and would you believe, dinorod man comes and wizzes his thingy up and down the pipes. And all finished in a few minutes. Would not take any money. What a bloke. Ah but it’s not over yet. Bloody pipe to the pump is at an impossible angle. And to cut a long riveting story short. The pumps cracked with all the force on it and oh well never mind.
Tutts is upset. Hmm thinks I. And so with a satisfied smile at solving her dilemma.
Passes her the ships bucket! So problem now solved and it now being late afternoon on Monday. Off we go to Cawsands, and as if just for us, there’s a stage on the beach. Excitedly we wait for the fun to begin. When along comes three spotty faced kids with guitars, walking down the road to the stage. You’ve never heard a racket like it. So backed Meekatharra up to the beech and let rip at full welly with her two un-silenced exhausts. Just to deaden the noise.
The itinerary of the planned cruise now being some what limited by lack of bog and the need to have one close at hand. Of we goes across the 40 miles of bay to Falmouth,
Where it rained for the next couple of days. So with the weather forecast saying a peculiar F4 to 5 to 6 or 3? From SW.
Shunts off back to Plymouth.
Next morning we are met by a bloke who shall remain nameless. Just to protect the innocent. Accompanied by two big dogs and the best floozy in the world. Now last time I said he was the dog handler but he says he didn’t like that, so this time I wont.
Anyway the doggy man is looking for a cat, if that helps! So off we goes for a little trip round to the river Yelm. The waves were enormous and nearly came up to the top of the antifouling, alarming the SWMBO’s quite a lot!!
Oh and I forgot. Remember Coliholics dolphin , that was once Weymouth’s dolphin.
Well it’s Plymouths dolphin now. Right up the river Cattewater . with a bloke in a wet suit playing with it and scratching it’s tummy for ages. And the dolphin preservation society. Want Tutts film that what she made of it. Cos they arrived a day late and missed it!!
You cant have fun like this anywhere!!
No one can force me to come here-----------
----- I'm a Volunteer!!!
Haydn
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