hlb
RIP
I called it this cos at one point we thought it would be much drier with the boat upside down!!
Well the first week, I took Len down. He’s a sort of friend come handyman that helps with the garden. Plan being, that we would clean and polish the boat, give him a bit of dosh, then have a sail about.
Soon as Len saw Mucky Farter, stuff the polishing lark. He wants to go to sea.
So we washed one side, then went up the river Yelm, ostensibly to turn the boat round, to wash the other side.
I’d given Len a crash course in mooring technique, which failed miserably.
Ropes over rails, round rails three times, every which way but through rails.
We washed the other side, then set off to Fowey, where just outside, the strange over heating alarm went off, it’s been doing this for two years, with no understanding of why it goes of after twenty or so miles, but only some times.
We crossed the river and picked up fuel, 47p, then tied to the visitors pontoon at Polruin? Called in the pub . Umm well, we did have a few goes at tying to the pontoon. Mainly Len threw the rope over the rails, then when it looked like he’d done it right, wrapped the rope twice round the cleat, so could not pull in the slack.. Mind, I could have just backed up if I known. But no, next thing, Len is doing a limbo under the rail, then disappears under the bows. Some how he made it to the pontoon.
So we made it to the pub, heavens opened, wind blew. Eventually I went back to boat, to make sure it was ok. apparently Len had bought two whiskeys and expected me back.
No sooner was I back on the boat, that all hell let loose, boat pointing in wrong direction and bang crash!!
The cleat on the pontoon had broken in half, not for the first time apparently. So the bows were floating free. But I was to busy holding the back end and the swim platform from going under the pontoon. Luckily a guy turned up in the pouring rain and helped.
We headed for Falmouth, Brrrr, Brrrr the alarm is of again. Falmouth marina then Mr Newmans place. God it was hard work climbing over three derelict boats with dog in arms. Nice beer and cream tea. Some where along, I lost my glasses in the sea. After that it all became a bit blured.
Down the fal, the alarms off again, it’s now getting serious and the weathers getting worse. So back to Plymouth at 3,000 revs, any more and the warning light is off again.
Heat exchanger off and the problem is clear. It’s full of a load of white stuff, along with the disintegrated twenty years of scrumpled impellors.
But the radars stopped going round. No one wants to mend it and replacing it means everything else wont marry up to it. Quick phone call and I find a radar a firm has had in stock for ten years. So M Farter is back in action and ready for the cross channel epic to Brittany. Crew change and we are off. Salcolmbe first. (It shortens the distance)
To solve there visitor reduction issues, besides commissioning a provision boat, they now provide recycling bags in three colours with Velcro fastenings, made in China.
I’ve managed to recycle the silver bag into a fetching new matching dinghy anchor bag. The other two are awaiting deployment, maybe Christmas presents and Debs new hand bag.
A little bird told me. Salcolmbe has now introduced a dinghy park charge. Started last week. Not sure if true.
So onto Dartmouth, then Brixham, where the [--word removed--] finally hit the fan. Weather total crap. Yep we went to Torquay and back again,. We renewed our friendship with the crews of the vintage boats on the HM pontoon and borrowed there 100 yard hose pipe a couple of times. All paid for with a beer at the pub.
Yelm and Cawsands on the way back. God, this bad weather has severely limited me to a hundred miles or so. Else making friends in Brixham.
Well the first week, I took Len down. He’s a sort of friend come handyman that helps with the garden. Plan being, that we would clean and polish the boat, give him a bit of dosh, then have a sail about.
Soon as Len saw Mucky Farter, stuff the polishing lark. He wants to go to sea.
So we washed one side, then went up the river Yelm, ostensibly to turn the boat round, to wash the other side.
I’d given Len a crash course in mooring technique, which failed miserably.
Ropes over rails, round rails three times, every which way but through rails.
We washed the other side, then set off to Fowey, where just outside, the strange over heating alarm went off, it’s been doing this for two years, with no understanding of why it goes of after twenty or so miles, but only some times.
We crossed the river and picked up fuel, 47p, then tied to the visitors pontoon at Polruin? Called in the pub . Umm well, we did have a few goes at tying to the pontoon. Mainly Len threw the rope over the rails, then when it looked like he’d done it right, wrapped the rope twice round the cleat, so could not pull in the slack.. Mind, I could have just backed up if I known. But no, next thing, Len is doing a limbo under the rail, then disappears under the bows. Some how he made it to the pontoon.
So we made it to the pub, heavens opened, wind blew. Eventually I went back to boat, to make sure it was ok. apparently Len had bought two whiskeys and expected me back.
No sooner was I back on the boat, that all hell let loose, boat pointing in wrong direction and bang crash!!
The cleat on the pontoon had broken in half, not for the first time apparently. So the bows were floating free. But I was to busy holding the back end and the swim platform from going under the pontoon. Luckily a guy turned up in the pouring rain and helped.
We headed for Falmouth, Brrrr, Brrrr the alarm is of again. Falmouth marina then Mr Newmans place. God it was hard work climbing over three derelict boats with dog in arms. Nice beer and cream tea. Some where along, I lost my glasses in the sea. After that it all became a bit blured.
Down the fal, the alarms off again, it’s now getting serious and the weathers getting worse. So back to Plymouth at 3,000 revs, any more and the warning light is off again.
Heat exchanger off and the problem is clear. It’s full of a load of white stuff, along with the disintegrated twenty years of scrumpled impellors.
But the radars stopped going round. No one wants to mend it and replacing it means everything else wont marry up to it. Quick phone call and I find a radar a firm has had in stock for ten years. So M Farter is back in action and ready for the cross channel epic to Brittany. Crew change and we are off. Salcolmbe first. (It shortens the distance)
To solve there visitor reduction issues, besides commissioning a provision boat, they now provide recycling bags in three colours with Velcro fastenings, made in China.
I’ve managed to recycle the silver bag into a fetching new matching dinghy anchor bag. The other two are awaiting deployment, maybe Christmas presents and Debs new hand bag.
A little bird told me. Salcolmbe has now introduced a dinghy park charge. Started last week. Not sure if true.
So onto Dartmouth, then Brixham, where the [--word removed--] finally hit the fan. Weather total crap. Yep we went to Torquay and back again,. We renewed our friendship with the crews of the vintage boats on the HM pontoon and borrowed there 100 yard hose pipe a couple of times. All paid for with a beer at the pub.
Yelm and Cawsands on the way back. God, this bad weather has severely limited me to a hundred miles or so. Else making friends in Brixham.
