Well it’s the first night and I’ve already run out of beer after picking up a couple of extra big bottles on the way and I’m not sure I’m going to survive the night. The mosquitoes are sucking on me like cheap two-bit whores, there’s barely any phone signal and then there’s the cold beans. I suppose I’d better rewind a bit to catch you up.
I’ve been looking forward to this weekend since I decided I was going to slum it in my car for a few days so I could maximise the time spent on the boat. I briefly mentioned that I’d asked the yard to flip (Boat Wankers call it “invert”) my boat over so I could get to the hull below the water line.
After an almost 3 hour fucking journey down here I finally arrived just after 8pm to find the gates to the yard open. Thank fuck because they normally close at 8pm. Knowing they’d also moved my boat a few places along I drove down the dirt road looking left and right hoping to see it somewhere. I finally found her about 20 metres down from where she was previously.
Like a baboon in heat, her red arse pointing at all and sundry. The boat actually looks better upside down than it does the right way up. I’m not sure what that says about anything but let’s move swiftly on.
Can I just interrupt here and say I feel like some sort of sick pervert sat in my car in the dark with my laptop on tapping away.
Anyway I parked the car up fully expecting to have shit signal but alas where I am now there is fuck all, nada, nowt, nothing. I’ve had to wander around the yard like a fucking loon with my phone up in the air looking for signal to let people know where I am and that I got here safely. I finally managed one bar of godforsaken signal and managed to message the beloved and the parental units.
The thing is you see I had to wander close to the banks of the river/sea/whatever the fuck it is and of course this was an open invite for those six-legged, malaria carrying, vampire cunts to suck me dry of blood. This is unusual. Most of my life I’ve been immune. Of course these are British fucking mozzies. Clueless and don’t play by the rules. Now I understand why Zed said:
Sleep with a window open.
He’d rather see me dead and drained of blood than watch me destroy my boat. Some friend.
Scratching my legs and a bollock I walked back to the car to set up my little “camp”. First order of business? Open another beer.
Another interruption. I’m busting for a piss….. and it’s pitch black. Note to self, bring a torch next time.
Cold beans, I don’t mind them but I was fully expecting them to be warm tonight. I brought along my little camping stove which is one of those little jobbies where you stick a gas cartridge in, push the little on lever and then light it. Only the on lever snapped and I couldn’t get the cartridge to engage with the ignitor thingy. It was only after chatting to the beloved that I realised that the reason the cartridge wasn’t engaging was because the gas regulator wasn’t in the off position. So got that sorted but was impatient, so had my beans cold. Why do manufacturers make things so fucking complicated? On. Off. On. Off. No degree needed.
If that’s an indication of how the next 4 days are going to go it’s definitely going to be interesting.
Oh, I mentioned the boat has moved. I actually like where it is the only problem being it’s another 20m further away from the power and water points. I think my extension will be fine but my hose may struggle. (Fnarr, fnarr!) I’ll deal with that tomorrow.
Anyway, this beats a five star hotel by a country mile. Booyaka motherfuckers!