“Boat transport companies are fucking idiots”
And you can quote me on that. What a ball ache trying to get the fucking boat transported. I must have contacted at least 7 transport companies in my quest to get my beloved moved from the nether regions of the U.K. to anywhere closer to home. I’d already chosen which boatyard I wanted her transported to, that was the easy bit.
Nautical people (Henceforth known as Boat Wankers) seem a bit thick and lazy. Especially the former. With every single company the first thing I did was give the specifications of the boat, explain it was a fin keel and that I was loathe to remove said keel. Additionally I attached photographs of the boat so the company could see what they were dealing with.
All of the companies told me it was possible to get the boat moved and it would be relatively easy. I decided on a company and arranged a day and time to meet me down in Southampton. They were a no show, they’d apparently eventually got around to seeing the pictures I’d sent and said that they’d need to remove the keel and winch the boat on to the trailer and didn’t have the right trailer available. I fucked them off pretty quickly. Fucking Boat Wankers. One wasted trip down to Southampton.
My issue of course was that I had paid for 3 months storage which was coming to an end in September. There was a mad rush trying to find a company that weren’t going to reinforce my opinion that all Boat Wankers were indeed actual Boat Wankers. I found a local Essex company, sent them the details, gave them a call and they said they could do it. They had a lorry with a crane and it would be a piece of piss to get the boat to my chosen boatyard.
After another early morning dash down to Southampton they arrived at the agreed upon time and moved the lorry alongside the boat.
Problem 1.
They couldn’t get close enough to the boat to get the right angle for the crane to get the boat on the lorry. After some pretty nifty manoeuvring of the lorry they thought it would be an easy:
Strap that bitch like a submissive, lift her up and then chuck her on the back of the lorry, but alas no… the boat next to mine was too damn close, so no go.
Problem 2.
It was decided that they would park alongside the boat next to mine and then reach over it, lift my boat up and over then put it on the lorry. It was all going grand, it was like watching those little robotic arm arcade games. Pretty impressive really. Then the realisation that the crane couldn’t extend high enough to get my boat over its neighbour. Why? Because of the fucking fin! I reluctantly agreed that the fin would have to come off. In hindsight a good decision. More about that later.
As soon as the boat was strapped securely to the lorry, I jumped in my car and dashed off back to the Essex boatyard. My baby was finally going to be closer to home!
Where is home? Southend:
It’s a nice little boatyard, with water and electric facilities, oh and bathrooms that no one has had explosive diarrhea in.