mark
Well-known member
finally in your bunk at 1am, pot noodle for breakfast at 2.30am, you know its got the makings of an interesting (and looong) day
never realised how different the upper tyne looks in the pitchy dark when you're a bit sleepy, a lot of the lights on the perches up there aren't working any more either! took the wimps way out and turned radar on (given that they are just inside out microwaves one day we're gonna put the pies in the raydome!)
heard someone shouting for slinky not long after 3, tried to butt in but don't think we got through, we were still way up the tyne at that point, think it was shady putting their brekkie order in
with stupendously accurate timing(ish) made out intial approach to Fred Crowel's slip, bank on 4.38, which meant it was nearly light enough to see where we ere going. But those sneaky pirate folk that inhabit that bit of the river on the south side have installed there own cunning tidal system, clearly to keep big Gay fishing boats at bay, so out first 2 attempts at fitting 15'9" of boat into a 16 foot wide slip failed dismally so, there was nowt for it but to try rope her in, so with a somewhat skeleton crew of 2, one of which leapt like a leapy thing to pirate country and tried to tug 30 tons of boat round the corner, nightmare, the pirate tide throwing us all ower the shop, sharp point concrete wall things doing sharp pointy concrete wally things to any bit of wood not defended by dunlop
took a while but got her in, it all seems so long but it's entirely possible we may of hit some 'things' at some point during the night/morning or whatever that time is normally called
I did have a brainwave to save north sea fishstocks at this point, I'm going buy them all watches and teach them to tell the time, that way they'll stay in bed till we get there (eventually)
I didn't have an attack of the red mist at all during these maneuvers and was only grumpy 'a bit'
An hour piling ballast and 'mystery grey powdery stuff' on one side and she took what little lean there was against the wall. Nowt left for us to do but to wait for the naughty pirates tide thing to go away to see whats what and have a grope of her nethers. nethers which are in remarkably fine fettle for a 70 year old, a fact confirmed by our newest best friend Mr Crowell. To underline how good she is he even drilled a hole in her nethers for us too prove the point, something about creaping crack cure, so Pansy is now a real 21st century girl and has a genital piercing
raked out half a dozen seams above the waterline, recaulked and resealed them with toothpaste, did a few suspect bits 'down below' as well
some of the pirates returned early and along with our newest best friend started to launch missiles at North Shields using hairspray
got to wave at Norman at one point, I think it was norman any way, I think I'd started to hallucinate after drinking too much antifouling and licking the white lead off my fingers
lashed a bit paint on the new stripey bits, greeted several boarding parties, while pablo thompson was reaching the parts other *insert something appropriate* cannot reach with a paint roller
by now the wet stuff was starting to tickle her hint end again, as the pirates liberated more treasure from Pansy's bowels, but the naughty tide likes us now and we slipped out without a bother and headed home, several tons lighter and several leaks less leakier.... but the those nice people who man the magic bridge had buggered off early leaving us doing little circles in the middle of the river trying to work out how to squeeze something 20 foot high under a 3 foot bridge,
pablo raced to the rescue though, leapt like a leapy thing for the second time in a day and possibly his entire life, and managed to find some one in the pub that knew the magic words...... although by this time we had several knots of cross current to traverse to squeeze her back in her hole
I didn't 'customise' the bridge warning sign on the way back in either by the way
all in all a good day done
never realised how different the upper tyne looks in the pitchy dark when you're a bit sleepy, a lot of the lights on the perches up there aren't working any more either! took the wimps way out and turned radar on (given that they are just inside out microwaves one day we're gonna put the pies in the raydome!)
heard someone shouting for slinky not long after 3, tried to butt in but don't think we got through, we were still way up the tyne at that point, think it was shady putting their brekkie order in
with stupendously accurate timing(ish) made out intial approach to Fred Crowel's slip, bank on 4.38, which meant it was nearly light enough to see where we ere going. But those sneaky pirate folk that inhabit that bit of the river on the south side have installed there own cunning tidal system, clearly to keep big Gay fishing boats at bay, so out first 2 attempts at fitting 15'9" of boat into a 16 foot wide slip failed dismally so, there was nowt for it but to try rope her in, so with a somewhat skeleton crew of 2, one of which leapt like a leapy thing to pirate country and tried to tug 30 tons of boat round the corner, nightmare, the pirate tide throwing us all ower the shop, sharp point concrete wall things doing sharp pointy concrete wally things to any bit of wood not defended by dunlop
took a while but got her in, it all seems so long but it's entirely possible we may of hit some 'things' at some point during the night/morning or whatever that time is normally called
I did have a brainwave to save north sea fishstocks at this point, I'm going buy them all watches and teach them to tell the time, that way they'll stay in bed till we get there (eventually)
I didn't have an attack of the red mist at all during these maneuvers and was only grumpy 'a bit'
An hour piling ballast and 'mystery grey powdery stuff' on one side and she took what little lean there was against the wall. Nowt left for us to do but to wait for the naughty pirates tide thing to go away to see whats what and have a grope of her nethers. nethers which are in remarkably fine fettle for a 70 year old, a fact confirmed by our newest best friend Mr Crowell. To underline how good she is he even drilled a hole in her nethers for us too prove the point, something about creaping crack cure, so Pansy is now a real 21st century girl and has a genital piercing
raked out half a dozen seams above the waterline, recaulked and resealed them with toothpaste, did a few suspect bits 'down below' as well
some of the pirates returned early and along with our newest best friend started to launch missiles at North Shields using hairspray
got to wave at Norman at one point, I think it was norman any way, I think I'd started to hallucinate after drinking too much antifouling and licking the white lead off my fingers
lashed a bit paint on the new stripey bits, greeted several boarding parties, while pablo thompson was reaching the parts other *insert something appropriate* cannot reach with a paint roller
by now the wet stuff was starting to tickle her hint end again, as the pirates liberated more treasure from Pansy's bowels, but the naughty tide likes us now and we slipped out without a bother and headed home, several tons lighter and several leaks less leakier.... but the those nice people who man the magic bridge had buggered off early leaving us doing little circles in the middle of the river trying to work out how to squeeze something 20 foot high under a 3 foot bridge,
pablo raced to the rescue though, leapt like a leapy thing for the second time in a day and possibly his entire life, and managed to find some one in the pub that knew the magic words...... although by this time we had several knots of cross current to traverse to squeeze her back in her hole
I didn't 'customise' the bridge warning sign on the way back in either by the way
all in all a good day done