MFV BF494 'Pansy', an old Motor Fifie Conversion

After suffering a series of outrageous slurs on my general sea worthiness, urino-genital tract and all round slackness in the "doing stuff" department I feel it is only fair to peep above the gunnels, check conditions using the one-eyed Beaufort Scale and return to my bunk.

time to catch up, been on my jollies for a week or three up that scotland, so thought I'd better go see if she was still floating today and definitely went a bit Withnail when I went down below....

last time out we'd left a few 'Things' in the sink, unwashed cups, that sort of thing, and the plug was in. All the rain recently and we must have a wee leak on deck somewhere, not that bad as the naughty dripping water did the honourable thing by managing to drip in the sink. Although the downside was it provided a nice supply of liquid refreshment for the "New Things" that were growing in the "leftover Things" to really have a ball.

There was definately in the Words of Withnail "Matter' growing in great profusion, a half inch thick scum of gelatinous ectoplasm had formed. Pondered a while and wondered about it's sea keeping properties as a waterproofing agent and should I just let it be, maybe it would grow big enough to cover the whole boat, thus inventing a whole new way of antifouling that is environmentally friendly but decided to be brave and plunge my arm in the sink and ferret about for the plug. The 'New Things" clearly thought my arm was an nicer place to be than the sink and the whole lot decided to attach itself to me as the foul brew that was under it drained away.

went topside and scraped it off over the side. It was last seen floating towards Norway, hope it enjoys the Fjords when it gets there

finally in your bunk at 1am, pot noodle for breakfast at 2.30am, you know its got the makings of an interesting 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!)

with stupendously accurate timing(ish) made out intial approach to Fred Crowel's slip, bang on 4.38, which meant it was nearly light enough to almost see where we are 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, as the tide runs down stream on the ebb, their little bit of the tyne goes the opposite way

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 pointy concrete wall things doing sharp pointy concrete wally things to any bit of wood not defended by dunlop or michelin

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 and wooden boat builder extraordianire Mr Fred 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 and golf balls

got to wave at at a few people I know that stopped by whilst passing in their boats, to have a chuckle at us, although that may not have happened, 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 No 2 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,

No 2 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

Even more sleepy now so it is entirely possible we didn't get back in the marina but are still going round in circles in the middle of the tyne
all in all a good day done, pics to follow!