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Perfect Doesn’t Get it Done

9 Oct

Words I read on another boatie blog recently and, believing them to be so true, stole them for here.

I used to be a bit of a perfectionist – If a job’s worth doing it’s worth doing well/Good enough isn’t good enough/It’ll do won’t do – all overused maxims in a previous life. I’m not sure if it’s living afloat, advancing years or some other strange phenomenon but I’ve had a complete change of heart on this one.

Now it seems to me that it is far better to get going on a job and achieve something, rather than constant agonising over method, materials and mastery. I’ve reduced myself to total paralysis in the past by this over-thinking process.

It is a bit of a trait of mine and, to be honest, I still find myself going down this route on occasions and have to give myself a pretty sharp talking to. Unless of course the John is around to save me from any harsh self-criticism – he’ll always delight in delivering a lecture on the evils of the maladjusted mind – mine in particular. He’d have me in therapy quick smart…test-therapy

As ever, in writing about what is on my mind, all becomes clear and that other strange phenomenon I mentioned earlier is clearly John. I’m not admitting to being easily influenced or anything here but he does have a way of making me see things differently. And that’s a good thing in my book; I like to think I am open to new ideas/ways of looking at things and never let it be said I am set in my ways or incapable of a little spontaneity.

In case you are wondering what all this head-shrinking is about, it’s just me justifying my attempts at fixing up the cratch board and re-attaching the TV aerial.

My last post told of taking the canopy into St. Ives to have the zip replaced, which was done efficiently and quickly – took less than two hours. Just enough time for me to fail to visit friends – I found their boat but was all locked up, which is most unusual; they must have seen me coming.

Instead, I had a nice chat with Caroline in the chandlery at Hartford Marina (the old home) and spent a small fortune on coffee at the nearby garden centre but managed to resist the urge to do similar at Jones’s Boatyard by only buying what I went there for. There’s a first time for everything.

So: stainless screws to replace the rusty ones that held the aerial mast and new toggle thingies for the cratch cover, by way of a treat.. 002

Not sure I’ve got them on the right way round but they seem to hold better like this.

Anyway, I’m well pleased with the service I received at S. Robb and Son in St. Ives and thoroughly recommend them if you ever find yourself in that neck of the woods needing work done on your canopy or a new one. Take a look at this link – they seem to do all sorts.

As for re-mounting the aerial… I studied it long and hard to ascertain the correct way to fit it then got busy with the screwdriver. As a blonde, I’m not allowed anything sharp or powered so this is the manual variety, making it hard work. Well I seemed to make hard work of it anyway. I struggled to drive the screws all the way into the wood and quickly gave up stopped just short of them being all the way home, thinking this would do till I have a qualified electric screwdriver operator on my roof.

Up goes the aerial, which is held by a ratchet device that is secured by rotating a lever. I’ve only put it on upside down – would you believe it? Fortunately, it does seem to still work so, with new thinking engaged, I leave it be. It is blowing a hoolie right now though so my fingers are firmly crossed.

And the cratchboard…?

I’ve had a bit of a go, looks a tad better…001

But is by no means perfect and needs more work.

And that’s where I came in – perfect doesn’t get it done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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What’s the Worst that can Happen…?

31 Aug

Technically this (Google image)…boat1

But let’s hope it never does.

No, this week’s drama for BB was not in this league, thankfully, but it seemed pretty damn distressing at the time.

I don’t shower every day, partly water conservation and partly because I don’t think it’s necessary. But, before you think too hard about that, I do of course wash. Consequently, when I do hit the shower, it’s a most enjoyable experience. Those of you who think boats don’t come with such mod cons (the same ones no doubt that think boats are cold, damp, dank and draughty places) need to know that most actually do.

And mine is a very good one. Usually.

So when I was doing my best Herbal Essences impressions the other day, enjoying the piping hot water cascading over me as I lathered the shampoo into my hair, imagine my pissed-off-ness when the pump that takes the water out of the shower tray failed to work.

I should say at this point that said pump has given me grief before but not enough to replace it. It often gives me a heart-stopping moment when it doesn’t spring into action the first time I flick the switch but will then play ball when I repeat this. OK, sometimes it takes two or three attempts and a bit of coaxing or even a few harsh words before it gurgles into life and sucks away the water but it usually does at some point.

Not this time. No amount of sweet-talking/swearing and cursing/violence made the slightest difference. When the water in the shower tray reached the point that it was about to overflow onto the bathroom floor, I reluctantly turn off the taps, consider bailing and try desperately to remember what John did to fix it the last time this happened.

He’s had the pump to bits before – no way was I attempting this. And then it dawned on me. Wiring. I won’t go into details as I’m sure I’ve blogged about it before  but suffice it to say that I knew this was what I needed to check.

So, dripping and with frothy/soapy head (and by now a bit shivery too) I head for the bedroom where the fault was last time. The 12 volt wires run along the wall under the gunwale and, at a point where it is most difficult to see/get at, they are joined by way of a chocolate block.

I, fairly hands-on with most things, normally give electric a very wide berth – be it AC/DC or whatever persuasion. Unless it’s wiring a plug/replacing a fuse, this boatbird will give it the swerve and find a man who can. But, I’m hardly looking the part to pull right now. I need to rinse my hair and want to finish my lovely shower moment.

Conscious of the fact that I am soaking wet and vaguely aware this is a bad thing around electrickery, I dry my hands then assume an impossible position to get me in the right place to look, hoping that something looks obviously out-of-place and fixable.

And there’s no way a picture of this moment will appear anywhere other than in your head.

And what do you know? It did and it was – a wire had come adrift from the chocolate block and just needed re-connecting. Now where’s that tiny electrical screwdriver…?

Luckily, it was in the first place I looked and, with mental pictures of hair standing on end as deadly current flows through me, I re-assume my contortions and (without shock or drama) fix it. Simple.

The pump worked and I (feeling pretty pleased with myself) continued my ablutions and lived happily ever after.

So where was boatbloke when I thought I needed him?

Well, it’s that time of year…IMG_20140820_131447

And when he isn’t hurtling around a field in one of these…A combine harvesting this year's crop

And Pete isn’t thrashing or crashing or bashing…IMG_20140823_155229

In order to affix a new knife blade or similar, he’ll be hanging around waiting for the rain to stop and the wheat to dry out again before they can continue with the combining.

At least he’s making stuff while he’s otherwise unoccupied. A chimney right now for the little boat so we can resume the fixing up of and blogging about that little project.

Lets hope that’s soon.

 

 

 

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Walking on Water

7 Jul

Hobo, the John and BB are now back on the riverbank and once again floating/walking on water. So to speak.

Marvellous. All is as it should be in boatbirdland and life carries on as (I almost hesitate to say) normal.

I may have told you that John is doing a little work on the farm here and, being multi-talented as he is, his daily tasks vary enormously. Just the way he likes it.

It could be anything from rowing dinner across the river…010 (2)

 

012013015To the Highlands that live over there…017

To pulling a boat out and up the slipway…IMG_20140628_103816

And parking it. Somewhere amongst all the other projects that live on the hard.

Or it might be building a donkey shelter…002

Very friendly donkeys who just love their new shelter…IMG_20140703_185331

Which doubles as a scratching post it seems.

Or dog kennel/run…025

This is his first; the second even sports a porthole. They just get better and there’s more to build. A career in canine architecture.

All made from old wood that has accumulated here over the years. John loves to work with old wood and is making good use of everything that can be found here – sometime he’s re-cycling parts of old wooden boats that came to rest here.

I like that thought – their lives to continue and remain useful, albeit in another guise.

And BB?

Just the usual and when I’m not out at work I’ve been sky gazing…001_stitch 002

009Been some interesting ones of late. Incredible.

Feeding Swannee River…017018015016

He will also take food from your hand, quite gently, but a little tricky to photograph.

Or practising Pilates. Or strumming my guitar – or trying to.

Or cutting the nails of my left hand in order to be able to hold down the strings. Yes, I’ve sacrificed a very handy set of (fast-growing) tools to this cause so I must be serious about it.

BB has also been tending the garden…004

Which has been a picture, with the flowering beans and marigolds.

Sadly, the radishes pretty much all bolted. Shame as they are my current obsession and I go through 9-10 supermarket packs a week! Will keep trying.

I’ve eaten the first of the courgettes…006

Yummy and more to follow.

And the broad beans look ready now…005

The colours have been glorious…009

Just waiting for the nasturtiums to do their thing…014

They’ve started…013

012Funny, I thought I bought red ones.

And Gerry, as ever, stands proud on the bow…015

And his brother…010

Trailing from the roof. Waiting for a neat John- style box to live in.

Red Hot Chilli Peppers…011

For John.

Loving the old clay pot (a slag-heap find) complete with moss.

I’ve also been watching the little birdies…017

Which of course do a disappearing act the minute I even think about thinking about switching on the camera. They have been here though – trust me, I’m a boatbird – now we’ve sussed out how to magpie-proof the fat balls by putting them behind bars.

Does anyone know what this is…?100_2226 100_2227

Not just an ordinary dandelion. Seen at the seaside.

Or this…?IMG_20140627_142334

A most unusual poppy, sprouting magnificently from the muck heaps.

All that AND I’ve managed to put in a few hours on the little boat – MAINSTAY/TITANIC/GYPSY/PHOEBE whatever, still can’t choose. Pics and progress report to follow in the next update. Suffice to say that she’s coming along and proving to be a super, comfy, functional space that is very… John.

Speaking of concrete boats…

A very good friend of mine informed me that there was a community of concrete boat liveaboards at Burnham-on-Crouch. So, always hankering after a visit to the Essex coast, off we trotted by way of research.

Never one to give a bum steer, my old mate came up trumps again.

Though they were all on a completely different scale to our own little version, there was something about them… 100_2222

Individual…100_2224

100_2217 100_2223 100_2220Rustic…100_2216

This one had gorgeous gardens…100_2221

Fore…100_2219

And aft…100_2218

And charming…

100_2215A work in progress with tricky boarding. From instantly hating it, this one has become my favourite. Don’t ask me why.

Take a closer look at that jetty…100_2215

The more observant ones among you may have noticed that not all these boats were concrete – the odd steel one having snuck in.

We had hoped to pick the brains of the occupants but saw no-one about. Must have all been passed out inside out at work. It was a Wednesday afternoon; I suppose most good folk would be.

We spotted another project…100_2225

Beached across the water.

We’d also wanted to see where the Chelmer/Blackwater joined the sea so, after a quick bit of smartphone googling, we headed off to Maldon. A lock-side pub called to us so we sat awhile there before strolling along the beautiful, clear river, taking in the different craft moored there, the wildlife and generally breathed it all in.

Aaaah! Lovely day out.

Back at the funny farm, I’ve made a fabulous new feline friend but more of that in the next post.

Oh alright then…

008

Just a taster.

 

 

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Bottoms Up!

30 Jun

Hobo has a very nice bottom. It’s official.

Three weeks ago now, we had the old girl pulled out of the water to have her bottom re-blacked. The last time this was done was four years ago now (and four years before that, just before I bought her). This is probably twice as long as recommended but, I’m happy and relieved to say, that she has fared well – despite mental pictures of lace curtains that haunted me as the day approached.

But none of that – she is fine and in very good shape.

Her first two ‘outings’ were at Welford’s dry dock where I believe they did a splendid job. This time, Welford being so far to cruise to when you are constrained by having to go out to work, it seemed favourite to make use of the facilities here – ie the slipway with its bomb trolley, as John calls it, and the  excellent workmanship of Andy and Jess.

We’ve witnessed their handiwork on many occasions; business here picking up no end since they took on this service. No surprise really as they do a brilliant job.

I was at work when they decided to pull her out and couldn’t wait for me to get back – time and tide waiting for no man (or even boatbird it seems)  – other boats already lining up to take their turn. So I authorised John to skipper the operation to drive her up the slipway. Not that I had any fears on that score; just a bit miffed to miss the event.

Perhaps as well. I can turn into a real old woman when it comes to Hobo’s well-being. And driving into the yard to see her sitting safely atop the trolley on the slipway was a huge relief…003

As Jess made a start on scraping off the sludge…001

Andy pronounced Hobo a very well made boat and her hull in great condition. Music to my ears.

I always thought she was a good boat but there’s nothing like hearing it from someone that knows about these things and is totally unbiased.

They set about grinding her back to the metal, observing strict health and safety regs of course…011

Even the, now eight year old, anodes had stood up well…010

But I decided to add four new ones…008

As I didn’t think they’d go another four years.

On closer inspection, there was one place that caused concern, this being on the waterline where the red stripes around the stern…004 (2)

As much as I wanted to keep this traditional cream over red design, I conceded it would be prudent to lose this to further bitumen. Really quite nasty pitting so best get rid.

Protection over cosmetics every time.

And here it is gone…007 (2)

After all, I can always re-instate it at a later date if I feel so inclined.

Actually, I’m quite liking the green stripe that has been used for masking – called frog tape and apparently brilliant.

On the bow too…009 (2)

We shall see. More work to bring the superstructure up to scratch first though.

I’m getting more and more ideas for decoration and I reckon, by the time Hobo is tiddled up enough and ready for some artistry, I shall have a plan.

The truly marvellous thing when it comes to slipway versus dry dock is that boatbird can still live aboard while work is carried out, courtesy of some giant steps…002

The noise and dust is a bit of a pain but that stops in the evening so not all bad. I do struggle to walk half sharp when she’s not floating though. Feels so weird.

We were so lucky with the weather – the whole three days were glorious, sunny and, most importantly, dry. Well done, for once, to whoever arranges the weather. Just check out that sky…023

Not forgetting the good old digger that pulled her up and kept her there…024

My rudder and propeller. Before…009

And after…008 (2)

Minus the tangle of wire/weed/whatever.

The team in action…001 (2)

Supervised by the John…002 (2)

Looking good now the paint is going on.

Notice which gender isn’t standing around/watching/chatting?

That said, they both grafted furiously. Indeed, once we saw how hard they worked, any guilt at not having done it ourselves (and saving loadsamymoney) simply evaporated. We conceded we are just too old disinclined to undertake that level of physical effort.

A view from afar…

018

Because I can.

There’s even a short/boring/vaguely amusing video of Hobo as she comes off the slip – I was present for this – but I’m too mean to upgrade this site so it can’t be shown here. Maybe I’ll just post it on fishface instead.

There was a bonus too. My kitchen sink has been bloody useless decidedly inefficient since day 1. Any waste drained (or not) into the u-bend then into a thinner pipe, which actually went uphill – I may have mentioned this before – a right royal pain in the arse.

Being on the hard was the perfect time to work on her so we did just that. With Andy’s advice and a borrow of his tools, John drilled another hole (eek) in Hobo’s hull (lower and larger than the previous one) to take a 38mm skin fitting, this being provided by a kind neighbour who just happened to have one going spare. This then linked to a larger hose, pointing downhill, we did away with the u-bend altogether and BINGO – the water now actually drains away. Quickly.  Along with any gunk I happen to carelessly throw down it.

And John has plumbed it in such a way I even have more under-sink cupboard space, which on a narrowboat is back of the net.

All in all a pleasant experience. And you can’t always say that about routine maintenance.

 

 

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Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain

10 Feb

Just to let you know that the river here is almost back to normal, thanks to a couple of dryish days and some pretty efficient draining onto the land.

I’m making the most though ’cause it’s not going to last – yet more Atlantic lows waiting in the wings, bringing a possible further two inches of rain or so and yet more windy wind.

But you know all that.

And my own personal ark will continue to protect me.

Anyway, I went out today in brilliant sunshine, without the usual bundles of warm layers and serious waterproof  gear. It was heaven. Gorgeous. Not even a breeze.

But every silver lining has a cloud and, just as I arrived back, it chucked it down: cats, dogs, stair rods – you name it. Terrific. A short sharp shower, just enough to make me nice and wet before I’d made it across dog-dirt and on to the boat.

By the time I’d changed out of my totally unsuitable clothing and slipped into something more comfortable – and dry – put the kettle on and made up the fire it had stopped. Typical. Should have waited in the car.

Anyway, good time to nip out and fill the coal scuttle.

And there it was… 001

003

Whoa, never mind  silver lining, how about that?

Had to be stitched…002_stitch (2)

Bugger, didn’t even see it at first.

That twirly drier taking centre stage. How could I possibly have missed that?

But, with careful cropping and more patience than a score of saints,  it was wiped…002_stitch

How good is that?

It’s a bit of a cheat, but hey, why not? We have the technology.

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The Easter Bunny……………. and so much Moore

12 Apr

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