Somebody Is Definitely Trying To Tell Us Something

Things proceed apace dear readers to which the following entry will atest.

With Missy Moto lying, nay wallowing on her mooring, we contacted the doyen of junk rigs, Robin Blain of Sunbird Marine, to advise us on the mast repair. One look at the mast told us that far from being repaired correctly it had been stuck together with chewing gum which merely kept it in one piece long enough to move the boat on to us. Further examination revealed that it had been welded cursorily back together and only needed a chop short enough to flex the mast to expose the shoddy fix. When transported by Robin to Neeldespar their opinion was that it should have been sleeved internally with tube of the correct diameter epoxied in and then possibly riveted to completed the job. Unfortunately it was impossible to check that this hadn't been done since there was no way to see up the mast and check any internal reinforcing or lack thereof. It has been said that to assume is to make an ass out of 'u' and 'me' and this has proved to be all too true in this case. How one can check internal reinforcing without X-rays is the puzzle.

Anyway, with the mast away, the little boat sat basking in the sun which, now we had no way of sailing her, finally made a belated appearance. At least I could get out to her and run the engine occasionally right? Wrong, said engine again resolutely refused to start. Changed the fuel, fuel tank, fuel line, spark plug and checked that the plug was sparking all to no avail. So now we have a rather odd shaped pontoon moored in the bay amongst all the floating aristocracy and the working dive boats. Nice.

My October issue of Practical Boat Owner was delivered to my iPad (aren't I the techno-nerd) in mid-September and flicking through its pages I came across an article entitled 'Dismasted and Engineless' in which an actor, antiques dealer and boat owner recounts the tale of his boat taking on water, losing its mast and suffering engine failue all in the one trip in the Bristol Chanel. Accompanying the article was a painting by Everitt which was the reward to the author for submitting his article. I thought I recognised the craft and, sure enough, the article ends with the sentence 'The mast was subsequently welded and repaired and Missy Moto now sails off the South Coast'. What the author learned from his experience was and I quote 'Check old repairs. The engine bulkhead repair was a disaster waiting to happen. The mast had a circular score mark around it which I had noticed, but to which I paid no attention. That is where it snapped off.' Indeed! What I have learned is to trust no-one, even members of the sailing fraternity, who one would not expect to send another sailor out with an unsafe mast!

The Tail End of The Worst Seas For 30 Years

My long-suffering wife had been promised a trip to Northumberland in September once the all the juvenile hordes were safely back in the classroom and to this end we checked the long range forecast for the period of our trip. Weather good, breaking up a little towards the end of the week but in all probability coming from the west so we guessed we'd be pretty safe for just over a week and set off for the beautiful Northumbrian coast all unsuspecting. After all I'd been baby-sitting this hulk all summer with no sailing but at least no dramas. So we meandered around the beautiful north-west happily and wide-eyed. The first indication that anything was brewing was a Facebook posting from Swanage Sailng Club that strong easterlies were expected in the bay on Sunday. (Swanage Bay is renowned for being unsafe in strong easterlies and whenever you see an empty bay you know that everyone with a boat that can move has beetled off round to Poole Harbour or Studland. The operative words here are 'that can move'. Missy Moto was sail-less and engine-less and essentially immobile. I suppose I could have arranged to have her towed round but I was in the far north-east so I emailed the club secretary to explain the position and say that the little bugger would just have to take her chances. As an aside, previous easterlies had failed to be as fierce as predicted so I was hopeful that this one would be the same. Some chance.  A Facebook posting on Sunday night 23 September 2012 saying 'Oops, don't think that should be there.' accompained by a picture of a boat nose first up the Swan Brook on Swanage sea front. The picture was underexposed and dark but the boat looked strangely familiar and sure enough, Missy Moto had decided to go floatabout, tearing herself free from her mooring and running before the biggest seas seen in the Bay for 35 years. One frantic phone call later confirmed that it was indeed the little Coromandel and she was indeed under a bridge across the Swan Brook. It was 9:30pm on Sunday night so we resolved to race home first thing in the morning to see what, if anything, could be done. My Swanage contact was not reassuring raising the spectre of all sorts of dire possibilities. I slept somewhat fitfully.
A twelve hour road trip saw us back in town and a quick squint over the bridge revealed that the Little gadabout had gone, hauled from her snug hiding place by 150 horses bolted to the back of a monstrous RIB and the judicious use of some rocking to and fro by sailing club stalwarts she had been pulled out reluctantly and towed back to a Buck Shore mooring. Amazingly she was still afloat. She's nothing if not a survivor!

That Looks Cosy...

...I Think I'll Stay Here Awhile.

To be continued...