My new project... MFV Elizmor

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The scene is a dusty ironmongers shop, somewhere in the 1970s. A morose OWNER in brown warehouse coat is tidying behind the counter. The door opens and in walks the CUSTOMER, a well spoken lady with a corgi on a lead.

CUSTOMER: Two crines.
OWNER: Two crines?
CUSTOMER: Two crines.
(The OWNER beckons and two Liebherr 1200-5.1 cranes drive into the shop, demolishing the end wall.)
CUSTOMER: No, two crines.
OWNER (confused): Well there you are, two cranes.
CUSTOMER: No, crines. Crines for one's head. Crines.
(The OWNER waves the cranes away, reaches below the counter and brings up two jewel encrusted crowns.)
OWNER: (muttering) Crowns, Thought you said "Cranes" (more clearly) Next.
CUSTOMER: Got any fenders?
OWNER: Fenders. What kind of fenders?
CUSTOMER: Black one. For one's boat.
(OWNER places a selection of inflatable fenders on the counter)
OWNER (holding up a round one and a cylindrical one) What type?
CUSTOMER: Stratocaster
OWNER: (muttering) It's guitars we call them, in the trade. Fender electric guitars.
(OWNER puts the fenders away and places an electric guitar on the counter)
CUSTOMER: A track.
OWNER: Track
CUSTOMER: Track.
OWNER: What sort of a track?
CUSTOMER: A track for one's ...
OWNER: A track for one's boat, yes.
(OWNER climbs laboriously up a ladder and returns with a section of genoa car track, which he places on the counter)
CUSTOMER: No, a track.
OWNER: A track?
CUSTOMER: Yes, a low-loader track.
OWNER: Oh, for gawd's sake.
(OWNER beckons again and a 38-ton low-loader drives in through the hole in end of the shop)
CUSTOMER: Anchor. 75 pounds.
OWNER: You what?
CUSTOMER: Anchor. 75 pounds.
OWNER: Danforth, Stockless, CQR, Delta, Manson, Rocna, Spade, Fortress, Mushroom, Stokes?
CUSTOMER: Salted
 
That is, truly, remarkably good.
Or in posh speak....
' One is quate amused '

( Idea, aha... ring ol' Phil and get the By Royal Appointment thing going...)

Never mind the pint, better make it the whole barrel for Jumblie
 
Locked up? Or a Lock-In?

We could bring dodgy instruments of musical destruction and, with the literary talents shown thus far, write a rousing hauley-pulley boat launching sea shanty...

Wots not to like ?
 
We could bring dodgy instruments of musical destruction and, with the literary talents shown thus far, write a rousing hauley-pulley boat launching sea shanty...

What shall we do with a stranded seiner?
What shall we do with a stranded seiner?
What shall we do with a stranded seiner?
Early in the morning

Way-hay, and in she launches
Way-hay, and in she launches
Way-hay, and in she launches
Early in the morning


Put her on a lorry and take her round to Fleetwood ...

Have a forum whipround to pay the ground surveyor ..

Hand across a fiver and scribble on her bottom ...

Hire a surplus Zeppelin and fly her to the Solent (that's a new one, folks! JD) ...

Wait for global warming and she'll float off on a spring tide ...​
 
Excellent..

A poet in Wolverhampton


" Way-hey up she rises.
No not really, until the sizes..
..Of a crane can be de-ter-mined,
By grounded survey with no surprises.."
 
I doubt it, but something else puzzles me, and I definitely don't mean you at all. It is the way some folk routinely attack those who raise questions about the OP's project; often in bizarre and personal terms a bit like Mr Cocker's defence of Britney Spears.

These virtual outriders lay constant claim to the moral high-ground, but an unemotional application of reason suggests otherwise. I have a wonderful, and occasionally bolshie, teenage daughter. Let us assume that in a few years she is attempting something similar to the OP's project and that I was sailing around the world uncontactable for a year.

Is it not self-evident that I should welcome Mr Duck's words of caution? Is it not obvious that I would rather find out that Skipper Stu had caused her to run home in tears, than discover that her adoring fans had waved and chanted "Go ***** go!" as she sailed off into the Irish sea on a possibly dangerous vessel? And who in their right mind would bring age or the standard of dentistry into the decision?

It's likely that the recent bad weather has left many of us with a dose of cabin fever. Oh what a shock the outriders are going to get when they realise it is they who should have been taking the pills!
I think you will find out that she had ceased communicating long before I said anything, indeed far harsher things had been said before I stuck my head over the parapet.
Stu
 
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Bit of reality after the amusing stuff.. Three catamarans were being built to roughly the same design in the Algarve. One intrepid owner, who's place was quite close to the sea, bought a cheap truck. Then backed it under the cat, lowered the cat onto the truck and just drove down the beach at low tide. Boat floated off and he sold the damp truck to the scrappy. Not sure how that might help here, but it solved his prob.
 
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