O.M.G………………
What do you reckon this dinky donkey saw…?
The Geyser is Dead – Long Live the Geyser
27 Jan
RIP Rinnai… rest in paradise.
It was with much sadness that I finally had to accept the inevitable and replace my 10+ year old gas geyser. It has given me good service since we’ve been together and for that I am grateful. Thank you, and I hope you’ve gone to a better place.
I do believe it could have been fixed up, were the parts available and my need for hot water not so insistent, but there’s only so much kettle boiling and cadging the use of other peoples’ showers I (and other people) can endure.
Could be that ‘better place’ will be the little boat…
Given that John has not tossed it into the recycling but instead found it a warm dry place to shelter for the time being, I reckon he’ll set about its resurrection and has a plan for installing it on his little boat – along with my ex water pump too no doubt. With his third world/agricultural background that’s a distinct probability I would say – since when has a lack of spares ever stopped him from cobbling something together before..? Good luck to him.
So, normal service has been resumed on the ablutions front, courtesy of a Morco D61E water boiler, which is now installed into the cupboard vacated by its predecessor…
It’s a tight fit but, nevertheless, it does fit so I’m happy with that. And ecstatic to once again have ‘on demand’ hot water and a well-behaved shower.
(My neighbours are quite pleased too that they no longer have to stand upwind of me.)
I found the best deal from a camping shop in Norfolk – believe it or not – better than Midland Chandlers, who I’ve always found pretty good in the past. I called them on the Sunday, it was sent by courier on the Monday and arrived here on Tuesday. No delivery charge and a clear £50 less than anywhere else selling the same model. Bargain.
So, in the last six months or so, dear old Hobo…
Has cost me dear had some well-deserved attention lavished on her. I shouldn’t complain (when has shouldn’t ever stopped me before..?) as I have enjoyed nine virtually trouble-free years from her.
It’s the way with boats though. As someone once said… Bring On Another Thousand Smackers… or it’s a little like standing under a cold shower ripping up £20 notes. Bit harsh… at least my new boiler only cost hundreds – a house version would cost thousands.
That said, I’m looking forward to a break from spending and hope that any surprises just around the corner are all nice ones. And with any luck, the sort that pay me money…
I live in hope.
And now I’m off for a shower.
Shapes of Winter
24 Jan
As much as I do not like being cold, there are some wondrous sights to be seen in the great outdoors this time of year – if I can prise myself away from Hobo’s warm and comfy cocoon that is.
Or, better still, if the John is out and about with his camera and feeding me the pics as I toast my toes in front of this beauty…
Probably the biggest log we’ve had in the Squirrel to date.
Outside, muddy puddles become works of art…
Pretty patterns everywhere…
Fascinating.
And this…?
Can you see what it is yet…?
Of course – a very frozen car.
Up close, it looks almost alive, like a surreal frozen forest…
And the river…
Icing over too.
Be careful where you park your bike though…
If you need to make a quick getaway.
Speaking of which…
John’s airstrip looking a little frost-bound.
And the adjacent field somewhat waterlogged but John has the solution…
Digging drainage channels, although it looks more like a waterfall to me.
So that’s the real world: a wintry mix of ice, water, mud and slime as dished out to us so far this season.
But BB’s head is often elsewhere.
Somewhere warmer…
Somewhere brighter…
Somewhere stunning…
Somewhere the days are longer…
Somewhere exciting…
Somewhere far away but never very far from my heart..
South Africa. Maybe next year.
Dumb and Dumber
7 Jan
Dumb: because I thought that fitting a new water pump would end my hot water woes. Wrong.
After one day only of perfect piping hot water and trouble-free showering I was back to square one. Minus one actually, because the main burner on the hot water boiler will not light at all now. I’m guessing the now constant and plentiful water pressure has scared the geezer to death. Literally.
It has a very nice home…
Neatly tidied away in this purpose-built cupboard.
We’ve played the process of elimination diagnostic game and, as yet, are no further on. I don’t like to give up on the old Rinnai, which I’m sure has plenty of life left in it, but we’re a little out of our depth having eliminated the obvious…
But before we can go any further, John must do more disassembling/dismounting while I stand by and do the disgruntling.
With gas-safe engineers being as rare as hens’ teeth and their fees requiring a small mortgage, I have my doubts of a happy ending. Also, the local boat safety man (and, sadly, ex gas-safe engineer) tells me that Rinnai parts are no longer available and I should “bin it”.
It really goes against the grain for me to do this (without a fight) so I rang the very helpful local Residential Boat Owners Association representative, who lives in a marina just downstream of here, and he’s given me a phone number of a neighbour of his who may be able to help/advise and details of a chandler in Denham that can probably locate parts. So fingers firmly crossed.
The RBOA is an active and useful organisation, of which I’m a member, that has the interests of the residential boater very much at heart and will help out wherever it can. Its reps are all boatie people – often also liveaboards – so know exactly where you are coming from and can offer an informed opinion/relevant advice. And, if nothing else, good conversation being like-minded people.
I’m researching new water boilers, just in case, and rather like the look of a Bosch one with electronic ignition. No pilot light means lower gas consumption… can only be good.
For now though it’s back to hot water from the kettle…
Ooh-la-la!!
This pic of the kettle singing atop the roaring fire inadvertently (honest) capturing the John in his birthday suit – just after the basinful of kettle water wash in the sink routine. He doesn’t normally sit around in the altogether you understand..
But, with the frost forming outside, proof positive that living on a boat does not equal being cold. At all. Ever.
I have, however, gained extra storage space in the shower cubicle that is, frankly, no good for anything else just now.
Dumber: because I’ve managed to fill the bilge with water while topping up the water tank. This is possible because the breather tube has never been connected to the great outdoors; instead is fixed at the highest point possible above the tank and beneath the well deck. The filler sits slightly proud of the deck level though so any overflowing will end up in the bilge.
Worst thing is, I know this. I know this because I’ve done it before. Now I’ve done it again and have a water feature in the wardrobe. Again. So it’s a case of patiently aqua-vaccing…
Until it’s all gone…
Which of course will take days or, more likely, weeks.
And all because I thought it was a good idea to leave the water running while I did a few loads of washing..
I like to think I’m pretty smart but do have blonde streaks put into my hair by way of providing an excuse when, like now, I do something so stupid. Once was bad enough but twice is unforgivable. I should be beaten.
Long term we’ve discussed running this tube to a pipe indoors that incorporates a kind of window, acting like a gauge. It would be ever so helpful to know the water level in the tank and relatively simple to do but, with so many other projects on the go at the mo, it’s not very high on the to do list.
A (rare for me) sleepless night last Thursday led to serious grumpiness and a total sense of humour failure on Friday but I’m over it now. My mum used to say “these things are sent to try us” but, try as they might, they will not get me down.
Because you know what? None of it matters, not a jot. I have health and happiness and a lifestyle I love.
So here’s to your health and happiness for 2015. The only two things that you really need.
Out with the Old and In with the New..
29 DecBy that I mean water pump. Naturally.
I’m hoping this is the last in a long line of things that have become dysfunctional of late in Boatbirdland. In this case though, I’ve been aware the day was coming; just a matter of when really. I excuse my meanness sense of not subscribing to today’s throwaway culture by saying “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” but John’s been nagging me for ages to do something about it. Apparently, I’m a bit stubborn..?
My old Shurflo water pump…
Has been getting less and less effective over the last months. When the pump fails to produce enough pressure, the gas water heater fails to ignite, resulting in the shower performing a vicious hot cycle/cold cycle routine and only occasionally settling on a constant temperature under which I could bear to stand.
I’ve manfully put up with it (why was that?) until the week before the world as we know it comes to a grinding halt when it became either freezing or boiling, no middle ground. So much so that I stopped showering altogether.
That’s fine except for hair washing – Boatbird’s is very long these days – and, after more than a week of bad hair…
I was going crazy. With hair in permanent pigtails, I probably looked ever so slightly dotty/a tad eccentric too. The next stage was habitual hat wearing…
But, at least with the weather turning so cold, I think I may have got away with it.
Also, the flow from all taps was now no more than a dribble with the pump taking longer and longer to bother to cut in and surely only a matter of time before it totally gave up the ghost. I coerced John into stripping the pump so I could clean all its innards (massive limescale and sludge deposits) but despite my misguided optimism high hopes that this would fix it, it damn well didn’t.
No seasonal miracles happening here then.
I was seriously considering the scissor option before I came to my senses and fired up the computer to see who had a suitable new pump in stock. Jones Boatyard in St. Ives came up trumps with a Jabsco that operates between 20 and 40 psi, shifting eleven litres a minute, suitable for long pipe runs and multi outlets. Sounds good to me. It was even on offer at £73.00 and, more importantly, in stock.
I really rate Jones and have not yet managed to find a chandler in this neck of the woods that comes close. It’s just a whack along the M11 – about an hour’s drive from here – though, so worth the trip.
By now it’s the C-word-Eve and they’ll be closing at 4pm (I discovered when I rang them) so John is despatched post-haste to sunny Cambridgeshire.
Once back here it was bish-bosh-bash…
New pump installed. And again…
Showing the accumulator, which this pump doesn’t need but will probably work better for it being there.
And all worked wonderfully well once more. I had a fabulous shower, water temperature not deviating a single degree for a single second. Perfect.
So now I wait to see what’s next…
Actually, I just found out and you’ll never believe it. Two more fails – one mechanical and the other directly caused by a very blonde moment on my part. One might be costly and the other making me loads of extra unnecessary/messy work. Both very vexing.
Find out what’s gone wrong now in the next thrilling instalment of Boatbird, coming to a computer near you very soon.
Oh, and all the best for next year. Here’s hoping 2015 brings joy to you all. And an end to all this crazy shit for me!
Seasons Greetings
25 DecAt the flames I sit and stare
By the fire in a comfy chair
Just Hobo, me and cheese on toast
I can’t be arsed to cook a roast
There’s endless coffee by the pot
Then maybe something by the tot
Later there’ll be tea and cake
It’s all for me, no give and take
I’ll read my book, put up my feet
Soaking up that lovely heat
And marvel at the gorgeous glow
As through my windows sunbeams flow
I’m doing festive my own way
It cheers my soul and makes my day
Different strokes for different folks.
I hope your Christmas is everything you hoped for and here’s to next year; bring it on.
All the very best for the season to you all.
Boatbird xx
Frustrating Times and Fun on the Farm
17 DecIt’s looking like the arm ailment might be a long job. Certainly not an overnight fix anyway. Bugger.
I’ve seen a physio, am doing the exercises recommended to stretch the tendons, resting the arm as much as possible and applying a little massage now and then. With an over-use/RSI type injury, that I apparently have, that’s the way it is. And Google agrees, so it must be true.
The left hand/arm is being employed as often as possible/when I remember and I’m managing to keep working/on top of things (sort of) albeit in a cack-handed kind of fashion. Very frustrating. There’s much I need and want to be doing but it is all taking so much longer than normal, if I attempt it at all. I will have to be patient. Hmmm.
On the up-side, the grill has started to behave again just as mysteriously as it stopped so I am all cheesed up instead of cheesed off and negotiations re the damage to my car seem to be going well. I’ll say no more on that just now – don’t want to jinx it.
Lucky for me, John is here working on the farm so can help with the heavy and awkward stuff. I’m getting better at accepting help these days but I’d much prefer to be able to just get on with it, in my own time/under my own steam/my way.
Enough of my woes, I’m sure you are much more interested in what’s going on down on the funny farm, so let me introduce you to some of the animals that John is getting to know and feeding pictures of to me.
The Highlands are bred for showing and win many, many prizes; show after show, year on year. The farm office is full of rosettes.
They are treated as pets (and with much respect) and all have a name. As have all the other animals, which we are gradually learning.
Here’s Callum…
A much sought after and multi prize-winning bull, a very handsome, naughty and ferocious beast. Check out that evil eye!
Here again with Fredrica who was named after Dianne’s father as born the year he died…
And farm owner, Marlene, with one of Stansted’s finest on finals in the background.
Back home is Ben…
With mother and daughter team, Dianne and Chloe -17 yrs old and a super kid – great girls both.
And here is Carina…
Careening around. John must have nerves of steel to stand in front of her with nothing but a camera. I’d have been long gone! And not even a hint of camera shake.
And two young bulls, Denzil and Dylan, lending a head…
While Marlene decrees it will fit in there…
And of course it does. Nothing wrong with Marlene’s judgement.
Back off Carina, I’m driving says Zola…
Know your place – my horns are bigger than yours.
It’s pretty wet and muddy around here just now…
But the dinkey donkeys don’t seem to mind.
They come and visit sometimes…
But only because they want to eat my garden…
They don’t fool me.
But if there’s just one picture that captures Fun on the Farm, for me this is it…
But it’s all smiles on this farm…
Even when ankle deep in pig shit. Not sure of this baby Highland’s name.
Ten heifers have been grazing at the Thorley Wash nature reserve over the summer and these now have to be transported back here. They fetched the first two yesterday – quite an operation – and I’ll be covering the highlights here soon.
I’ll have to do a separate post on the dogs. There’s so many of them – again, all named – that even Marlene has lost count. They have been known to growl a bit and nip an ankle of the unwary here and there, and can certainly make a racket at feeding time but, on the whole, we get along fine.
John has the right idea and walks around with a pocketful of dog treats. No flies (or teeth marks) on him.
But here’s Marlene’s constant companion, Dolly…
Cue for a song surely: Well hello Dolly, looking swell Dolly – enough already.
I may have mentioned the mud, which almost scuppered this chappie…
As he manoeuvred…
And soon became stuck…
Men and old machines to the rescue then…
And with chains, not so gentle persuasion, a little know-how and much expert (?) supervision…
Eventually delivered its cargo to the slipway where this feller took over…
What a big un!
The 70ft widebeam was successfully lifted in…
And soon after chugged its way downstream, passing Hobo on the way to wherever it was going.
STOP PRESS: I have just picked up a cheque re the accident damage so am now a few hundred quid better off/a bit less into the overdraft than when I started this post. That has to be good.
And the car won’t be going to hospital for bumper amputation, prosthetic attachment and posh paintwork. Instead will live on to fight another day, looking more and more the fearsome farm vehicle she has morphed into, and sporting her battle scars with pride and personality.
We are both in the wars it seems but will get through these tough times together.
My Friend Jo…
6 DecBig birthday today!
For my friend Jo
Sixty – bejabbers!
Not that you’d know
With a spring in her step
My friend Jo
Is agile and fit
With a healthy glow
Time for a knees up
My friend Jo
Go out and make merry
Where will you go?
Have a great time
My friend Jo
Dance till you’re dizzy
Cares to wind throw
So here’s to your happiness
My friend Jo
It’s not every day
That Big Six Oh..!
Much love A xx
Out of Alignment
2 DecEver had those times when things just don’t quite go right? It’s like everything is just off centre, slightly skewed or out of true – like your stars aren’t lining up properly. Maybe my fairy godmother has gone AWOL for a while or karma is catching up with me, but Boatbird has just had one of those weeks.
It started last Monday evening as I was driving home. I was almost there, sitting in traffic along the main street, when a car attempted to turn right behind me into a side street. I say attempted…
Misjudged would be a bit of an understatement but suffice to say that his car now needs two new doors and mine needs a rear bumper. To be fair, it looks like it should ping out…
Or maybe not. On presenting the Battlescar (formerly known as the Battlestar – as in Galactica) at the bodyshop, I am informed that this just isn’t going to happen. And what’s more, if this goes through insurance, it will almost certainly be written off. Well she is knocking on a bit now: approaching 150k miles…
I’d rather it wasn’t though. We all know that a Toyota can live forever and it is a very nice car: boring steady and reliable, doesn’t owe me anything (and isn’t worth anything), has so far sailed through its MOT each year and doesn’t even cost a lot to run for a 2.5 litre automatic (if you forget the road tax, which is Bloody Expensive). It will still whoosh along with the best of them, isn’t so bad looking…
Has an enormous boot which swallows all that stuff I can’t fit/don’t want in the boat and so, for all these reasons, I’d decided to run her into the ground.
My Toyota attacker is currently considering his options – doesn’t really want to involve the insurance company – and I am relatively hopeful that he will stump up. Fingers crossed then.
Actually, best not as this is too painful. The next thing to go awry was my right forearm. Out of the blue on Thursday, it started to become extremely painful and, being right-handed, is making even the simplest of tasks at best excruciating or at worst, plain impossible. I’m doing what I can with the left (like typing this) but everything happens in slow motion when employing your non-precision hand and some things are damned difficult. Ever tried brushing your teeth with your un-clever hand? Not easy.
Paracetamol or rub in gels won’t touch it, the doc has no idea what it is (could be tendinitis but not been doing anything unusually stressful for my arm) but prescribed stronger painkillers and said to call 111 if it swelled, the painful area increased or became inflamed/unbearable. I can’t take ibuprofen so currently on the cocodamol and hoping it goes away soon; one has to be relatively fit and functional to live on a boat and all that this lifestyle entails.
The firebrick at the back of my little stove has crumbled (I’ll forgive it as it came with the boat eight years ago and wasn’t new then) and I have sourced a new one…
Not expensive at £11 odd but how to fit it is another story – especially with a gammy arm – but now the riddler plate has disintegrated too! So another trip to the stove shop in Takeley on the cards but for now the old squirrel is looking good…
That’s a relief as it’s turned considerably colder out there.
On top of that, the grill on my oven has ceased to work so my staple of cheese on toast is off the menu – you could say I am well cheesed off.
But it takes more than all this to keep a boatbird down (she says hoping there’s not a whole lot more of this to come) so I’m still smiling and not really whinging and whining – more meaning to present a balanced view.
It does fascinate me though how events seem to store themselves up and dump on you all at once. Spooky.
Oh, and a funny thing to end with. TJ brought me 400 cigarettes back from Belgium (approaching half price at around £5 for 20) where he’d been working the other week. By chance, I was reading the small print on the packet (or not as I’m far from fluent in foreign) and discovered that each pack holds only 19 (19 is still 19 in Belgian)….
So actually they are £5-ish for 19 not 20 and I’ve been short-changed by one whole pack of 20, making 380 not 400.
How sneaky is that…?
Answers to some Burning Questions…
28 NovQ. How do you get our four-legged friends across dog-dirt alley in the rainy season without muddying up the car/boat?
A… 
Q. Is this a new rare breed of pig – the Gloucester Old Stripe?
A…
Q. Where do narrowboats refuel?
A…
Q. And WTF is this?
A…
On a postcard please or, this being the age of the internet, leave your best guess in the comments. Our panel of judges will reward highly anyone coming close.
Boatbird
Boatbird 