hlb
RIP
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 lock 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 pasteings 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 rediculas 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. [--word removed--] 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!! [--word removed--] off!”
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 lock 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 pasteings 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 rediculas 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. [--word removed--] 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!! [--word removed--] off!”
