Boat-man III: 'Aquarius Rising'........

Royal Engineer Mark, James Duck (The Buoy Wonder) and I have been helping out a fellow boater.

This gentleman has on the receiving end of a most unpleasant shafting from a River Cam-based so-called "boat engineer".

This individual promised to supply and fit a 'recon' engine, took a large wodge of the gentleman's cash for same, then, having ripped the old engine out and having nicked all he could carry off it, (starter motor, inlet manifold, you get the picture.....) he then buggered off as fast as his little legs could carry him and has neither been seen nor heard of since.....

Shabby behaviour.

Truly shabby......

Tsk tsk tsk......

The gentleman's problems were compounded by the fact that he was evicted from his mooring at a derelict riverside pub in Chesterton, which is being re-developed..

So, homeless and engineless.....

But in a flash of The Boat-Signal, (and no flashing at all from some, by now, fairly well known characters in spandex....), he was towed to the 48's at Clayhithe.

Where he ran out of water.......

Enter The Mighty Pippin, stage left.....

Which solved the immediate crisis.....

While on the 48's, we got the wonderful Rob The Mobile Welder out to sort the newly adjusted engine mounts and weld them firmly into place:

A BMC 1.5 motor and gearbox expertly aligned by The Royal Engineer and The Bouy Wonder...

Rob The Mobile Welder knits with flames....

So after that, the engine was well and truly united with the boat it was intended to propel...........

Fab! Lets hook it up to the battery bank, spin it up and off we go!

Yeah.

Right.......

First, the number of nuts on the thermostat housing was 50% short of complement, (they were a weird Imperial size, so there was no way the otherwise excellent Mackays of Cambridge were going to be able to help), and the housing was, therefore, destined to leak like a Welsh patriot....

This was a job for Uncle Roger......

I won't go on about him, (as too much exposition can get in the way of the narrative flow), but suffice to say he owns an Alvis Speed Twenty-five, a 1936 Riley Kestrel and an MG TD....

He is also a chum.....

A quick trip to Uncle Roger's man-cave in the village (The Royal Engineer was drooling over the lathe and the cars and the quality engineering on display...) furnished us with enough BSF threaded nuts to do the job plus one for what I call 'splosh-factor'....

So we swerved around that problem.....

Only to find that the battery bank was, as James succinctly put it, "more shagged than a King's Cross sex worker"

(Actually, you know, that's not what he really said, but I have to edit gently in the fond hope this blog post will make it past The 'Auntie Mary' Filter....)

Hmmmmmmm.........

Anyway, it would seem that when the gentleman had had solar panels installed four years ago, the installer neglected to connect an essential wire..

The gentleman had been adjusting the panels every day, twice a day, for four years....

And not a solitary amp had he gained for his trouble......

(You might well ask 'What part of the '00000' read-out on his charge controller didn't he understand.....'

Don't worry, so did we..... then shook our heads and carried on.....)

Fortunately, the installer of his wind turbine was made of sterner and more competant stuff.... That, at least, worked......

But the old engine was wired into the leisure bank for starting. A quick check with the multi-meter showed those batteries to be holding 10.2 amps.....

(A note for those not immersed in the Dark Arts of Electrickery: that's basically bugger all. Squared.)

So there was no power to turn the engine over.....

I think at this point, The Engineer, The Buoy Wonder and I repaired to a local hostelry to consider our predicament......

(We are doing this work for free at weekends.... Mind you, I think our respective wives and partners are suspecting it's all long finished and we're just using it as an excuse to meet up and get pissed......

If ONLY that were true............)

We resolved the erg problem by the simple expedient of nipping down to the local car spares shop and buying the hoofiest 'go-away-and-stop-messing-with-me' battery we could find: 330 Cca... which in layman's terms, is dead butch, love.....

So now we cranked the engine over, hoping to prime the fuel system and make it go chug chug chug....

"Woo-hoo!" quoth I," I spy fuel peeing out of a union!"

"Fuel? Is it Bollards!" replied The Engineer, "That's lube oil....."

Auntie Mary, I'm so sorry........

Fork-fork-fork-forketty-fork and Bollards!

Yes, oil was positively wazzing out of a hole in the block.....

Fortunately, it was a threaded hole.....

The thread was for an oil pressure sensor..... notable on this particular BMC 1.5 by it's complete absence.....

Once again, a tricky Imperial thread....

I made the, by now, rather embarrassing sortie to Uncle Roger's.....

He had exactly the right bit to plug the hole, plus a copper washer for good measure....

Truly, the man is a Saint.....

So another problem resolved with rather worrying ease......

Another week elapses, and The Buoy Wonder, The Engineer and myself are once again deep in the engine room of the gentleman's boat:

The "engine 'ole crouch" is much easier for youthful, springy, and above all, short people than it is for their much taller, less malleable, and extremely knackered "elders".......

So why is it not running yet?

Well, er.......

The F.I.P is totally banjaxed....

Yes, yet another Imperial thread has stripped... this time in the housing into which the idle control screw threads...

(Note: F.I.P. = Fuel Injection Pump)

A trip to Uncle Roger instigated a serious bout of tooth-sucking.....

'Well, we could machine-off the original thread, run another die-nut down the plain shank, then insert it into a sleeve with a nice big Whitworth thread that has some chance of holding in the aluminium casting which we will tap to accept same.................................or can you find a 'spares' F.I.P on ebay............?'

We found a 'spares' F.I.P. on ebay.......

And here are some pictures of that most beautiful thing.....

Okay, it looks a bit like a postal haggis....

Now, I'm no expert, but that looks like the nadgers to me!

More of this interminable saga to come!

Boat-man II "The Return of the Fox!"

Sequals are generally at least only half as good as the original, but this is the next installment of the story......

Rob and Julie got back from their holiday in Bilbao on Sunday. The Fox was finished and ready for collection on Monday, but was stuck firmly up Brandon Creek without a paddle, or any other means of propulsion for that matter........

I was off on Tuesday.....

As our American cousins are wont to say, 'do the math.......'

So t'was on a bright and early 07:30hrs Tuesday morning that a rather pasty looking Rob made rendezvous with The Mighty Pippin at The Parish moorings.

(Pasty on account of the fact he'd got some 'getting our home back home' style celebrating in early...........)

We traversed the lock by 07:50 then made all plain sail.

To Ely and beyond!.!.!

Rob took the tiller while I messed about in the galley.

There is no question about it, he's a poser all right.... Welcome aboard, friend! (But you'll have to bring you own spandex, and capes are not provided.....)

Food time:

There is nothing, nothing , half so good for a hangover as......

.....a fry-up in The Mess on a boat.....

(In case you're wondering why we were eating off the fold-down bureau, Pippin's dining table was otherwise engaged......

Look, I've been really busy, okay?)

Thus fortified, we sped alond at 2000rpm, "top o' the green" for Pippin, arriving at Brandon Creek at about noon.

There are some interesting boats moored up along there:

James tells me this is a 1960's built BW Inspection Launch. What a lovely looking thing! I especially like its clerestorey roof......

I really liked the look of this one, but there is not world enough or time......

.....or money, for that matter........

Anyway, we met with Natalie and Darren who run The Little Ouse Moorings and the floating dry dock. They'd done a fine job on The Fox's hull which was pronounced not merely sound, but in extremely good order. This was of course a huge relief to Rob and Julie......

We chatted for a bit, about this and that, and the likely identity of the unspeakable scrub who had half-inched The Fox's anchor.... (be afraid, be very afraid, you thieving git, for The Boat-man cometh.......).... so after putting the world to rights for a bit, I bought some diesel, we cross-strapped The Fox to Pippin, and off we jolly well trolled......

Rob took first trick at the helm....

.....still posing like a b@st@rd.....

One hundred-odd feet of articulated boat:

Soon after leaving Brandon Creek, I announced it was 'beer o'clock'. (For the record, 'soon' meant six inches from the dock and twenty seconds into our five and a half hour return trip....)

However, an adequate supply of refreshments went a long way toward taking the edge off the unremmitting boredom of The Queen Adelaide stretch......

At last, The Blessed Isle hove into site:

.....so we knew we were about half way there......

Still, you know you're nearing home waters when you run into (not literally, I hasten to add), one of these......

I had hoped to pump out either on the way there or back but was thwarted by a plastic sitting on the mooring in the morning and by tempus fugit on the return trip....

We could have moored up quite comfortably if some wally hadn't left their rowing boat in the winding hole......but we had a rendezvous to make and there really wasn't time to lark about.

So on we pressed.......

Past the forlorn and lonely spot were The Fox's engine breathed it's last.....

Past boats that lie beyond even The Boat-man's redemptive powers......

Past 'Swallows and Amazons' hideaways.......

Through Bottisham Lock, Pippin first, then The Fox, then re-strap the tow and on to the rendezvous at The Bridge at Clayhithe where Julie was waiting with James and Amy on Lucky Duck to complete the tow to Cambridge......

The Buoy Wonder was quickly on the case......

Owners Rob and Julie......

........the former looking like he's spent the afternoon boating, drinking and belching with The Boat-man, the latter looking looking her usual delightful, if slightly bemused, self.......

And off they go, into the now setting sun.......

In the Gotham City control room, a tired River Commissioner Gordon looks down at the plot table.

The IFF transponder symbol for nb 'Friendly Fox' flickers from red 'EMERG!' to a simple green symbol of a narrowboat cruising peacefully along.

The janitor empties the ashtray of chewed cheroots and clears away polystyrene cups of long cold coffee.

All is right with the world.

The janitor leaves. Gordon turns off the lights and closes the door.

In the beer garden of a riverside hostelry on the outskirts of Gotham, a shabby, nondescript and rather paunchy middle-aged man contemplates a full pint of Guinness.......

The Mighty Pippin's Beta 50 has ceased it's song.

Her bow-wave is down.

The waters subside and coalesce into the mirror of the dawn's early light....

And the river is at peace, and none who go there shall come to harm.

Boat-man: Return of the Caped Cruise-aider.......

Gotham City (aka Cambridge): 20:30 hrs Tuesday.......

A worried Commissioner Gordon looks up from the plot table.... Narrowboat 'Friendly Fox' has seized it's engine just outside Ely..... RCR have towed them to a nearby marina and safety, but The Fox is due for blacking at Brandon Creek the next afternoon, and the owners, Rob and Julie, are due on an 07:00 flight to Bilbao the following morning.........

"This is a job for The Boat-man. Put up the Boat signal!" says Gordon, thinking, only to himself, "I hope to God he's not in the pub..... Again...."

In a beer garden in a riverside hostelry on the outskirts of Gotham, all eyes turn skyward as the searchlight pierces the night.

There are gasps as The Boat Signal appears on the base of a cloud....

Mothers draw their children closer.

"Look darling, the Boat Signal! They need The Boat-man! I hope he's in time....!".

Meanwhile, a shabby, non-descript and rather paunchy middle-aged man swallows the last two inches of his Guinness with practiced grace, mops his mouth on a napkin, burps quietly, then fades into the night.

He knows his mission.......

For by day, he is mild-mannered Hole-Maker John Pippin.

By night, he is The Boat-man.

First, he must contact The Buoy Wonder. He picks up The Boat Phone and speed dials.

"Hello, James? Are you up to much tomorrow? We might have a little job to do....."

And so it was that yesterday, James and I set off to Ely to pick up Friendly Fox. Cathedral Marina were going to charge them £20 a day storage, so time was of the essence.

We cleared Bottisham lock near The Parish moorings at 16:15. It was a beautiful afternoon, so with 2000 rpm on the dial, and slowing only for moored boats, we arrived in Ely at about 18:00.

Having fixed The Fox to Pippin's stern with James's cross straps, we then changed clothes, (all that spandex really starts to chafe after a while.......) then opened the throttle to 'top o' the green' and got underway without delay.

Next stop, Brandon Creek!

A narrowboat with a very bloggered engine........

James, The Buoy Wonder, reaches into his Utility Belt for some bungee cords and lashes the Fox's tiller 'dead ahead'.....

Cross straps applied.....

and seem to work rather well.......

The Buoy Wonder, for it is he....... (No spandex though,....... not a pretty sight to be honest.....)

This is A Cat.

Sadly, Michelle Pfeiffer wasn't answering her Boat Phone.......

As night fell, there was a most beautiful sunset:

We arrived in the dusk at The Ship Inn at the mouth of Brandon creek, moored up pronto-quick-time -stylee and just made last orders for food. (NB. The Ship has just changed hands, and the welcome was convivial, the food good and reasonably priced, and the Guinness slipped down a treat......)

This morning, we delivered the Friendly Fox to the floating dry-dock, breakfasted on sausages and eggy bread, then turned The Mighty Pippin's prow toward home.

We are still en route.

Actually, I think I'd better publish this and take the helm.

The Buoy Wonder needs a wee......