hlb
RIP
Now don’t you find that on a lovely summer day, whilst passing a particularly uninteresting coastline.
And especially if the auto pilot is tracking the GPS.
That you sit on the fly bridge getting quite board.
Until a whole host of Lobster pot buoys loom into sight. When you can turn the pilot off and zoom through the buoys just like skiing down a slalom course and pretend for a while that your some ace racing driver just doing the last lap. (Hence the title.) Even though having to come to a dead stop and backing up when the exit route doesn’t look too clear.
Now I was looking at shuttlecock the other day and they were parroting on about lobster pot buoys.
But at six knots it’s from a different perspective. But anyway not to steel there fire. That’s where the inspiration came from.
But then take the other side of the coin. Like rounding a headland on a wet day, the seas doing a good 5 or 6 and then of course you meet the over falls.
Of course you’ve long since gone down stairs, just to get out of the rain, the spray and even big waves coming over the top. And anyway you now need all the electric gismo’s you’ve got.
So your there on your todd. Because usually by this time, the wife has retired to the bathroom.
The boats taken on the feel of a submarine at periscope depth and your eyes are going dizzy looking at radar screens, chart plotters, compass and in between when the bow drops enough, through the screen.
Although that’s usually a bit of a waist of time. The wipers are going mad and there’s that much sea coming over that its rare to see anything.
But there it is! And another one. And another. Just a little black ball with sinister looking ropes attached.
Then your trying to hit the button on the autopilot, the boat hits the next wave and you miss.
Three or four attempts and your back on the wheel and steering franticly to miss the buoys.
The tales of the Nelson that wound its props together on a rope and sunk, comes vividly into mind at this time, and your throat goes dry.
The course you’ve picked to keep the boat on a some thing like even keel, has gone completely out of the window and for a moment or two, you haven’t a clue which direction your going in and neither do you care. Just as long as you miss those ropes.
Now I have tried and tested rope cutters on my boat, but that doesn’t mean, they work every time.
And the thought of being hung up by the tail in that stuff is awful frightening.
Is not it time these things were. Put on a chart and a Cardinal buoy by them. Big yellow flag!
Anything to tell you where they were going to be and a route to miss them by.
Well that’s enough ranting for a Sunday night.
Haydn
And especially if the auto pilot is tracking the GPS.
That you sit on the fly bridge getting quite board.
Until a whole host of Lobster pot buoys loom into sight. When you can turn the pilot off and zoom through the buoys just like skiing down a slalom course and pretend for a while that your some ace racing driver just doing the last lap. (Hence the title.) Even though having to come to a dead stop and backing up when the exit route doesn’t look too clear.
Now I was looking at shuttlecock the other day and they were parroting on about lobster pot buoys.
But at six knots it’s from a different perspective. But anyway not to steel there fire. That’s where the inspiration came from.
But then take the other side of the coin. Like rounding a headland on a wet day, the seas doing a good 5 or 6 and then of course you meet the over falls.
Of course you’ve long since gone down stairs, just to get out of the rain, the spray and even big waves coming over the top. And anyway you now need all the electric gismo’s you’ve got.
So your there on your todd. Because usually by this time, the wife has retired to the bathroom.
The boats taken on the feel of a submarine at periscope depth and your eyes are going dizzy looking at radar screens, chart plotters, compass and in between when the bow drops enough, through the screen.
Although that’s usually a bit of a waist of time. The wipers are going mad and there’s that much sea coming over that its rare to see anything.
But there it is! And another one. And another. Just a little black ball with sinister looking ropes attached.
Then your trying to hit the button on the autopilot, the boat hits the next wave and you miss.
Three or four attempts and your back on the wheel and steering franticly to miss the buoys.
The tales of the Nelson that wound its props together on a rope and sunk, comes vividly into mind at this time, and your throat goes dry.
The course you’ve picked to keep the boat on a some thing like even keel, has gone completely out of the window and for a moment or two, you haven’t a clue which direction your going in and neither do you care. Just as long as you miss those ropes.
Now I have tried and tested rope cutters on my boat, but that doesn’t mean, they work every time.
And the thought of being hung up by the tail in that stuff is awful frightening.
Is not it time these things were. Put on a chart and a Cardinal buoy by them. Big yellow flag!
Anything to tell you where they were going to be and a route to miss them by.
Well that’s enough ranting for a Sunday night.
Haydn
