Well the day didn’t get off to a very good start. Having completely forgotten about Storm Bert, and the consequences thereof, I was hoping to get a lot more done than I actually did. It was as I was crossing the River Ivel that I realised today was probably not going to go according to plan. You see, the level of the Ivel is a good indicator as to whether the boat yard would be fighting rising water levels or not. Cue a sphincter tightening moment as I saw that it had burst it banks. The first scenario in my head was, “Aaah fuck, I bet the boat has capsized!”. From then on in it was anxiety city all the way to the yard.
As I entered the yard, my fears were confirmed, the river level had clearly risen and was near enough ready to burst its banks. It was a this point I contemplated whether taking a week off to work on the boat rather than getting my tits out in the Canaries was a good idea or not. Happily though as I rounded the corner, I could see that the boat was still accessible, albeit it a few feet higher than usual. It was also time to get the wellies out.
The first order of business was to determine whether it would be possible to actually get on the boat without breaking my scrawny little neck. The boarding of the boat entailed climbing on to scaffolding poles and then on to the boat. Can I just say at this juncture, that my back, legs and arms are all in pieces, even now two days later? Fuck being 50 and out of shape. May I also add that my non-slip loop knots worked a damned treat? You have to love YouTube.
From a higher vantage point I could see poor old Dolly B was having another fucking nightmare, poor little bitch. Do people not give a fuck about their boats? I’d have been down there after the last floods to make sure my boat was ok. Maybe it’s just me?
After unlocking the boat and opening the door, my heart sank, the boat was holding more water than Katie Price has silicone in her tits. I’m so over having to hand bail water out of this fucking boat. I mentioned this on Twitter/X, or whatever the fuck it’s called these days and a long-time fan, follower suggested a drill accessory which would pump the water out. I already have one. And it’s only ever been used once in anger, and that was to transport beer from a pint glass to my gob. Fun times. Anyway, my drill is electric and we’re still avoiding the electricity aren’t we? So much for those fucking tarpaulins eh? We won’t mention my botched job of blocking the drainage holes from the engine bay to the cabin. Nope, no siree.
Whilst on the boat, it was clear I would have to add, move and resecure the mooring lines. The boat was getting thrown around like a dwarf in a porn film and was hitting scaffolding poles and the hull was getting scuffed. This was a fun little project. Having to firstly, find a rope in the yard long enough, secure said rope to the boat and then lobbing it over and across dolly. Cue having to wade along the jetty on the other side of Dolly in knee deep filthy water. I managed it though, so all good. These mooring lines pull the boat away from the scaffolding port side, and will should stop the boat from capsizing or getting caught on the jetty when the water drops.
Bailing the water out and resecuring the boat took at least a couple of hours and as a result threw all of my plans out of kilter. To be fair, in true Beasty style I didn’t have a to-do list of things to get through for the day. I need to snap out of that habit, or I’m going to end up in a right mess. One thing that was not anywhere near my list was sealing th windows of the cabin. But in a moment of inspiration I decided that was what I would do. If you recall, my current track record with plastic sheeting is far from ideal. But ahead I went. The reasoning behind this task was that on a previous visit I noticed the windows were leaking worse than an over-stretched sphincter in the Blue Oyster. (5 points for the movie reference). Sealing the windows up took up most of the rest of the day and with the benefit of writing this up 2 days later I can say it’s had the desired effect. I can say that because the lockers in the bed area were dry on my next visit, usually they’re more than just a little damp. No it doesn’t look attractive but it gets the job done.
That’s about it really, any gaps were filled with filling, refilling and sanding holes. Have I mentioned how much I hate doing that too? That said, slowly, slowly all the damage is being repaired and I’m reducing the prospect of water getting in the cabin. No pictures. They’re just too boring. Oh! I forgot to mention that because I was so busy pottering around I hadn’t realised the water level was rising. It was only after looking up from what I was doing that I noticed water lapping up against the car. That was my cue to fuck off, so I did.