Radio Ga Ga

It was just a slip of the tongue when I announced 'the next record is Radio Ga Ga', when I meant to say 'Lady Gaga' - but I think I got away with it. When my friend Neil offered me his father's boat to renovate, I didn't envisage this happening. Or perhaps I did.

On Friday evening, The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station went on air for the first (and very possibly the last!) time. The Jolly Rodger was hoisted up on the aerial mast (actually my decorator's pole from B&Q), on top of the newly named Los Amigos.

'Good evening the World. It's six o'clock in England, one o'clock in Montreal and nine o'clock in Moscow'. We were off.

I had one of those "Oh, F**K" moments when I glanced up from my "studio" inside The Boat For My Potplants and saw literally hundreds of people on the quay who had gathered to witness The World's Biggest Cock-Up. The next time I have a bright idea, maybe I should keep it to myself, I thought.

But in fact it all went swimmingly well, and the four-hour show went by in a flash of mayhem.

Able Seaman Martyn sauntered around looking for nice ladies to interview on his roaming microphone.

Jerry from Radio Wivenhoe kept things steady-as-she-goes inside the "control room" on top of the kitchen (er, galley) sink inside the cabin.

Folks sat at the pub's tables with their transistor radios adorned with skull and crossbones stuck to their aerials.

And 'Erindoors became 'Eroutdoors, as Jane went round with the bucket, doing a fine job collecting money for The Wivenhoe Royal British Legion, as people paid for their favourite song to be played.

Los Amigos

In the vein of Radio Caroline's MI AMIGO, I've decided to name my boat the LOS AMIGOS, at least for the duration of The Barnacle Bill Show coming live from the boat this Friday, and next.

But LOS AMIGOS also truly does mean 'the friends'.

Wivenhoe is full of them. It's a friendly boat indeed, and certainly a friendly place. I'm convinced that the boat attracts them.

Take, for example, Richard, who runs "Clear To See" - Print And Graphics Centre in Brightlingsea. I met him a few of weeks ago. I told him about my Boat For My Potplants, and a smile came to his friendly face.

I emailed him up a few days ago (on a Sunday), not sure whether he'd remember me, and asked if he could supply me some LOS AMIGOS stickers in time for the daft and bonkers radio show. He replied immediately, and as if by magic, the graphics arrived quickly, indicating a level of customer service that I thought had gone out the window many moons ago.

Thanks Richard, mi amigo - a song for you is on the turntable ready for a spin.

Lapping It All Up

My hat goes off to top chap and another Quay Character, Phil. He managed to bring me down to Planet Earth with his wise words of wisdom last evening, while I was down at the boat trying out the equipment for next Friday's Barnacle Bill show.

Just as I was thinking it's all just another fine mess I've gotten myself in to, and generally flapping about with little radios that didn't work properly around the pub's tables, Phil calmly said 'if it brings a smile to a few people, it will be worth it. And if it raises a few pounds for a good cause, then even better.'

After all, I'll be in good company; my mate Mark Wesley (ex Fab-208 dj) is coming down. Jerry from Radio Wivenhoe will be holding my hand on both the decks (boat and record). Able Seaman Martyn will be wandering around on the quay getting people to choose their favourite tunes in return for a donation to the Wivenhoe Royal British Legion (the better the song, the more it will cost; eg Donny Osmond = 10p, Led Zep = at least a quid).

And of course Phil will be the bouncer, holding back the hoards of people trying to clamber on board The Boat For My Potplants.

 I wouldn't want to pick an argument with Big Phil, so with that in mind, I stopped flapping, and decided to lap it all up.

"Vinyl On Tap" - It's Bonkers, I Know

The World's Smallest Pirate Station will hit the airwaves on August 17th, after years of planning (or at least several days). Following too many Guinness's down the pub, the spectacular show - surely putting the Olympic Ceremony in the shade - is actually coming together.

The Boat For My Potplants, the Wivenhoe equivalent of Broadcasting House, will be home to tired and weary disc jockeys from across the country, encouraged by huge payments from major record labels to play the latest poptastic chartbuster.

Listeners who had been looking forward to a quiet pint at The Rose And Crown's quayside tables will be able to tune in and hear their favourite tunes from a selection of vinyl 45's left on the pub's tables.

All they'll have to do to hear their favourite tune is to walk the plank and throw the record through the hatch. They chuck it, and I'll play it.

And if you're further afield than the Boat For My Potplant's 50 feet not-terribly-powerful FM range, worry not. You'll be able to listen via my blog on the WWW.

It could be a bit of fun and I'm sure Johnny Walker could teach me a thing or two about how to play some old records. It's all a bit bonkers.

Quay Character Canoe-Man Jon

One of the great things about having a Boat For My Potplants on Wivenhoe Quay is that you tend to meet all sorts of interesting people.

Take Jon for example - one of my Quay Characters of Wivenhoe. When he asked me last night if I'd like to join him on a 5am canoe trip this morning, my head began to think of what excuse I could muster in order to get out of it. Then I thought 'Why not?'

So there I was at five o'clock all ready to go. We made record time from Wivenhoe to Mersea Island where we lit a fire on the beach to cook our sausages and make a brew. We laid out the fishing net, but sadly caught nothing, but what the heck?

By the time many people were surfacing from their slumberlands we'd already had hours of exhilaration and exercise as the sun burst through the mist. It was magical.

Much Respect To Nautical Neighbour John

There's been so much happening with the Boat For My Potplants since my last blog - only a few short days ago, when I went out on it for the first time.

Firstly there was the spectacular Wivenhoe Regatta on Saturday when we welcomed at one point 15 people on board all at the same time, and a good party was had by all.

Secondly there was the meeting set up with the chaps at Radio Wivenhoe to progress my nutty-as-a-fruitcake idea to turn the boat into The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station. It looks like it might actually happen. Watch this space!

Thirdly I went down to dead-head the old geraniums yesterday, and Nautical Neighbour John was next door fiddling with his ropes. He kindly offered to take me out for some much-appreciated tuition on my boat, teaching me how to get used to my Shiny Suzuki. I learned about wind directions, currents, tides, reversing and turning. John certainly knows his stuff.

He let me take the helm all the time, including going out and back in to my mooring.

Considering his boat is moored next to mine, and it's a hundred-year-old beauty and must be worth a mint, he took a lot of guts to entrust me with the maneuvering. I took it nice and slow, and even though I say so myself, I think I didn't do too bad a job, thanks to John's excellent tuition skills.

Much respect to him.

At Last!

Paul rang me on the phone. 'Whatever happens, we're going out on that boat today'. And who was I to argue?
At last the weather conditions were perfect.
At last the tide was high enough for long enough.
At last I had some confidence.

And sure enough, with Mike's help and guidance, off we went.

We picked Paul up from the jetty.
Jane came along too.
The motor purred like a kitten.
And I was like a kid at Christmas.

At last, after all this time and so many aborted attempts, my Boat For My Potplants finally became a boat on the river. At last.

All Ready But Nowhere To Go

It's not easy being on a tidal river - having to wait for the high water at a time when we could all be present - and with the ghastly weather of late, this was the umpteenth aborted attempt at actually going out on the river.

Mike - who I'm confident knows a thing or two about ropes, hooks, cleats and knots - gave me a first-class lesson in how to get untied. Paul followed his instructions to a tee. Jane tended the geraniums, and I said how windy it was and that I don't think we should go out in it.

I was overruled and so we got ourselves prepared. We sat in the cabin and waited for the tide to come in. And we waited some more. I was poised to lower the shiny new motor into the water and start her up with the key that was all ready to be turned.

The water level rose. The boat began to float. How exciting, I thought. But then the tide went out as quickly as it had come in, and we were left on the mud again with nowhere to go.

There was much talk of neaps and springs, and how we should have been better off next week when the spring tide was due. So we called it a day and agreed to try again next Thursday.

At least Jane managed to get the geraniums dead-headed.

Frustrating Wind

I'm cursing the wind in more ways than one this week. Firstly, I was struck down on Tuesday by a bit of the old food poisoning from one of those dodgy all-day-breakfasts in a tin. I know I should have had muesli, but quite frankly who wants to eat chopped up cardboard when there's sausages and beans beckoning for your stomach-space? By Thursday evening I was more gusty inside than the force ten blowing outside.

And I'd asked able-seaman Martyn (pictured left) to help with my inaugeral trip on board the Boat For My Potplants on the Friday, which I'd been so looking forward to with equal degrees of fear and excitement.

'I'm not coming out on that boat if it's got those stupid potplants on it', he had forewarned me. I hoped he was only joking. He must have been as he even arranged to bring his Royal Navy-serving son along for the ride - so I really was going to be in good hands, and I was praying my wind would have let up by then.

Fortunately it had - but unfortunately the north-easterly wind blowing around the boat's mooring grew stronger than ever - and we had to abandon our plans, drink Guinness and discuss geraniums instead.

Planning My First Trip

Back from holiday and the Boat For My Potplants is calling me to take it out. They say the thing in front of what you really want in life is fear, and I guess this adage applies in my case.

I am fearful of doing something I've never done before - taking out my boat with its new motor onto the River Colne - but I really want to do it. To all you experienced boating people out there it might come as second nature - but to me it's all new and scary.

I'm only planning on going out of the mooring and then up-river for about a quarter of a mile, then back past the mooring to the barrier and back again to its mooring outside the Rose And Crown, where (if successfully completed) I may even treat myself to a celebratory shandy.

My pal (and able seaman) Martyn has agreed to accompany me and to give me some tips, which I welcome.

And that's given me an idea - I should acknowledge some of the key characters from Wivenhoe Quay. Why not call it Quay Characters? A sort of play on words, n'est ce pas?

Let's start off with my chum and nautical neighbour John, who just adores my plants and must surely be ever so slightly envious that he doesn't have any flowers adorning his magnificent vessel. 

John - you only have to ask, and my pansies are your pansies.

And Now On To The Radio

I've missed Wivenhoe, and I've missed my Boat For My Potplants. I'm back from my hols, rejuvinated and ready to begin three tasks;

One for the past - to research and discover the true history of my 23ft former Norfolk-Broads ex-hire river cruiser. Who owned it? Where was it based? Who were its clients?

One for the present - to learn how to sail, er, motor her up and down the River Colne. Will I avoid crashing into other boats? I jolly well hope so.

And one for the future - to create The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station (WSPRS-FM). Regular readers of this blog will know all about my ever-so-slightly barmy idea. How will I 'broadcast' top tunes from the boat, using an iPod? Will anyone be bothered to listen?

My revisiting of the LRV15 lightship in Harwich yesterday awakened my inspiration. Last time I was on board, I was Barnacle Bill on the Mark Wesley show. What a day that was. This time I was a guest at the fantastic wedding reception of our Wivenhoe friends Trish and Geoff. And what a day THAT was! I walked around the ship, in awe. This is the real boat that rocked, with all that history, from all those years ago.

Don't ask me how I'm going to do it. I don't know yet. But that's not important. What IS important is to offer sincere congratulations to the new Mr and Mrs Lee for a tip-top, 100% brilliant, hurdy-gurdy day.

Captain Slow

Just a few days ago, we brought the boat home to its mooring in Wivenhoe.

I'm still tingling from the realisation that I have a boat that can go places now, and I'm happy that I've had many friends asking 'when are we going out on The Boat For Your Potplants', but unfortunately I haven't had the time or the tide to do anything out on the ocean, er, river, waves yet.

But when I do get to venture out, I will be Captain Slow and Captain Sensible all rolled in to one happy Captain.

And What A Cool Day It Was, Dude

I don't think things could have gone any better. With military precision in the timing, The Boat For My Potplants was launched.

Martin, my brother-in-law, and his two boys Jack and George came with us. I marvelled at Jack's dreadlocks, and wished I had hair like that - or indeed any hair would do.

He looked like The Dude, and I felt like The Coolest Dude, as we powered our way up past Alresford Creek and through the Wivenhoe barrier and on to our final destination of our mooring outside The Rose And Crown. At precisely the right moment the sun shone, the wind calmed, the tide ebbed, and in we came.

Cool!

Today's The Day

Well - I can't put it off any longer. The motor has been fitted and it's ready to go. My brother-in-law Martin (top chap) is coming over this morning to join me. The tractor at Brightlingsea is poised to push the Boat For My Potplants into the water ready for it's first voyage under its own steam for many many years - certainly since I've been its proud owner.

The weather was looking a bit iffy, which would have been good, because very few people would have been sitting outside the Rose And Crown at lunchtime, watching me make a complete hash of things. This is my very first time driving a boat, and, if truth be told, am a little nervous about coming in to its mooring at high-tide. Well, quite a lot, actually.

It now looks like the weather will be okay. Drat. I'm considering removing the plants to help make me look less conspicuous, and hope no one notices me.

Yes, We Have A Motor!

I went to Tenerife and experienced what I thought was the ultimate thrill - a downhill off-road freewheel mountain-bike ride from the top of Spain's highest peak. Two thousand three hundred metres high up at the start, sixty-five kms at speeds of up to 40mph, with a few hair-pin bends thrown in for good measure, and sea level at the end.

I returned home last night, tired and exhausted, but couldn't wait to check my emails - just in case there was some news that I'd been anxiously awaiting.

And there it was. From Brightlingsea Boat Park And Ride, the Suzuki dealer, saying 'Engine is fitted'.

I dashed down to see my Boat For My Potplants this morning and within a second forgot about the bike ride. I just topped the ultimate thrill as I stood and gazed at my new motor.

Mental note to self: Say Big Thanks to Tracy at BBP&R, Gareth at Suzuki GB Marine, and of course my secret Blog-Reader whose generosity made it all happen.

BIG THANKS

A Boat For My Potplants In Numbers

Whilst waiting (in)patiently for my my motor to arrive from the good people of Suzuki, and whilst the Boat For My Potplants is away from its mooring, I have little to do except reflect on some of the numbers relating to its recent history.

I can't wait for its return so that some serious sailing - and of course some not-so-serious games of golf - can be undertaken.

Amount my boat cost to buy - Nil

Number of days spent working on it - probably about 100

Number of parties on board - 4 or 5

Amount of paint, woodstain and varnish used - 20 litres

Number of watts from the old Grundig amplifier - 120

Number of times slept on board overnight - 3

Number of dogs carried aboard - 3

Number of plastic flowers adorning the interior - 25

Number of bottles of wine consumed on board - lost count

Number of weeks spent waiting for motor to arrive - only 2, though feels like more, but nothing in the big scheme of things

Amount raised from blog ads for donation to Royal British Legion building fund - £51.27

Number of times golf played on top of deck - 2

Playing The Waiting Game

Fortunately I usually have patience. I certainly need it now as I walk past the Rose And Crown and look at the space where my Boat For My Potplants should be. There is a void. Something is missing.

The boat is waiting for its new motor that is supposed to be coming from Suzuki - but it hasn't yet arrived. I'm crossing my fingers that it will come on the dealer's next delivery - next Tuesday.

I can't wait to get the boat back where it belongs so I can welcome my friends and family once again                                           
Bienvenue Abord INDEED!

Two Clouds That Have Silver Linings

I was beginning to get a bit stressed, what with the moving of my Boat For My Potplants to Brightlingsea on Monday, and all the arrangements that that entailed.

On Tuesday morning I got up to write my latest blog, only to find that it had all been changed - and not only that - all the pictures had gone! My stress level rose some more. I had to leave things for later investigation and go off to work.

And then later that day I got the phone call from the Suzuki dealer that I was hoping not to get, telling me that Suzuki haven't got me the motor after all. My stress level hit the ceiling of the hallway that I had been painting.

However, I heard an inner voice telling myself to 'Calm down dear - it's only a blinking boat - with daffodils on top'.

And with that, the first of two silver linings appeared; instead of a used ex-demo 15hp motor, Suzuki are supplying a brand spanking new 9.9hp. 'As long as it gets me over to The Albion pub in Rowhedge, I don't mind', I said. 'Where's the Albion?', asked Tracy from the Suzuki dealer. 'About 500 yards away, on the other side of the river', I explained. 'That'll do nicely, then', I was assured.

Later that evening I investigated my blog and concluded that I'd have to change the format and re-load all the pictures, one by one.

So as I began looking through all the photos since this boating adventure began I saw the second silver lining - a realisation of just how lucky I am to be doing this.

My Blog Has Been Changed

Thanks to Google, my whole BLOG has changed without my permission and ALL the pictures have disappeared!!!

Sorry to all my blog readers - just at a time when things are hotting up with my new motor.

I hope to find a way to restore things as soon as I can.

Of course there's always the possibility that it was down to user-error. I'll keep taking the pills.

THE DAY OF MOVING HAS COME

An important (for me, that is) date in my calendar arrived yesterday, and so did my brother-in-law Martin with his trailer, which we duly drove over to Brightlingsea and left in the boat yard belonging to Boat Park And Ride, ready to recover my boat.By the time we arrived at Wivenhoe on Tracy's boat on the incoming tide the weather wasn't being particularly kind to us, but undeterred we tied up for the tow and began our slow return journey back to Brightlingsea.It was choppy. It was cold, and it was windy - but I didn't mind.I recognised that this was a historic moment in the life of The Boat For My Potplants - as it inched its way towards its outboard motor fitment that would be taking place later this week.

Calming The Mind

It's been a nerve-racking time recently.

Sorry dear blog-readers for my absense of late, and now today I have to return to France for a further two weeks. All in the name of work, you understand - NOT HOLIDAY, as I keep having to explain to everyone I meet.

However, during my captured time here I have been busy trying to plan for The Boat For My Potplant's inaugural voyage.

Yes indeed. The wonderful Tracy at Brightlingsea Boat Park And Ride will be coming up the river on Monday 23rd April to attach and tow back my boat to their yard, in order to fit the new motor that's being sent by those nice people at Suzuki.

But Tracy doesn't have a spare trailer, so my helpful brother-in-law Martin will be taking his speed boat and trailer to their place, leave the trailer and then come up river alongside them on his speedboat, which he'll leave in my boat's mooring. A little complicated, I know - but complicated is what I do best, according to my darling 'Erindoors.

Then, a few days later - hopefully Thursday 26th April, which is also my birthday, we'll be bringing my boat triumphantly back to Wivenhoe, under it's own steam for the first time. At last I'll finally be going somewhere in it.

What a great birthday treat. I wonder what sound the motor will make.

In the meantime, I've been putting the final coat of varnish on the woodwork, and of course tending the daffodils, which have been coming up nicely I'm pleased to say.

There's nothing like a few daffs to help calm the mind.

Ten Easy And One Difficult Stages To Fitting A New Motor

1. Get motor back from somewhere in deepest Devon to top-chap Gareth at Suzuki HQ and get it checked over

2. Send motor to top-chap Tracy at Suzuki dealer in Essex - Brightlingsea Boat Park And Ride Ltd, a few miles down river from Wivenhoe

3. Get top-chap and brother-in-law Martin to lend me his trailer for a week because all the ones at Brightlingsea are in use

4. Ask Martin to drive 40 miles from his establishment - Eastern Garage in Finchingfield - towing his trailer (but his speedboat is on it)

5. Put Martin's speedboat in the water when the tide's coming in at Brightlingsea and leave trailer at Tracy's yard

6. Bring Tracy up-river to Wivenhoe with his boat, following Martin on his speed-boat.

7. Leave Martin’s boat in my mooring outside The Rose And Crown (perhaps dashing in for a swift half), and tow my boat back by Tracy’s to Brightlingsea with the outgoing tide

8. Let Tracy use his tractor and Martin’s trailer to pull my boat into Tracy’s yard

9. Leave Tracy to fit my shiny new motor over the following few days

10. Take The Boat For My Potplants back to Wivenhoe – this time under its own power, and let out a dignified “YIPPEE”

Ten easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy stages to fitting a new motor

All I have to do is to arrange a date

a) When it’s convenient with all the top-chaps involved
b) When it can’t be at a weekend
c) When the times of the high-tides have to be right

That's the difficult stage

Fitting Vents Or Going Shopping?

I've been waiting anxiously for news about the outboard motor that's coming from Suzuki.

Not wanting to upset any applecarts with the company's marketing manager, a few days ago I gingerly wrote a nice email to him enquiring about the motor's progress - afraid that I may discover that he's changed his mind, or left the company, or something terrible like that.

In the meantime, for months now I've been looking for window vents to replace the broken ones on the boat. After much research I discovered that they are called Vent-a-Matics, and armed with that knowledge I had eagerly ordered two from Amazon.

I came home from work last night and immediately went to the computer to check my emails. There was one that leapt out at me. It was from Suzuki, saying that the motor will be dispached next week. Brimming with excitement, I was then informed by my wife that there was a parcel for me. Could this be my Vent-a-Matics?

Yes, it most certainly was. I excitedly opened the package and marvelled at the shiny things inside.

I reflected that it's not only the big things (like 15hp motors), or even the little things (like Vent-a-Matics) that make my world in boats so good.

It is in fact having a very understanding wife, who doesn't mind when I inform her that I have 'lot's to do on the boat this weekend' and politely decline her kind invitation to go shopping.

How Much Is It Worth?

I recently was asked to work on someone's boat as a paid job. It got me thinking that it's not making much economical sense based on the value of the boat.

Then my thoughts turned to my own Boat For My Potplants.

What is it worth? What does "worth' mean? Most people's assumption of the meaning of "worth" is its monetry value - the amount of money the craft can be sold at any particular time. Other factors come in to play - how much did it cost in the first place. How old is it? Does it have a trailer? Where is it moored? What condition is it in? Was it previously owned by John Lennon?

Based on these factors, my boat's probably worth diddely squat. But I don't care.

The bottom line is that it's only worth what someone is prepared to pay for it, if we're purely talking about £££, /-/-/-, and ddd's, and that figure also goes up and down with the tide, according to the country's economic conditions as a whole.

But if we're talking about what it's "worth" based on the number of hours worked on it, then I am a boat-millionaire, especially after 'Erindoors kindly let me use the kitchen table to sand and Brasso the old steering wheel whilst having breakfast this morning.

Ker-ching! I've just added another grand to its value - to me, that is. But on the open market it's still around the zero mark.

I raise my cuppa to all the other millionaires amongst us, who spend as much time as they can afford, doing little bit here and a little bit there, increasing their boat's "worth".

At Last - Some Progress

Finally, after waiting ages for some clear days away from decorating work and other commitment, I'm finally able to get a couple of 'boat-days'.

So today I can move on a little.

Firstly though, I must confront my demons. I'm coming to the engineering and mechanical bit where the steering wheel and other controls are. There are wires all over the shop, some of which I can see don't connect to anything. Where should they be going? This is territory outside of my comfort-zone.

Basically, I haven't a clue. And I have to sort this lot out before getting the motor.

I'll be going to introduce myself to the Suzuki dealer this morning, with whom the Suzuki management has arranged to 'deal with this boat with the potplants'. I sure hope I can get on the right side of him and that he'll agree to help me figure out what goes where. My fingers are firmly crossed.

And then there will be the little problem of how to get my boat a few miles down-river without a motor and without a trailer.

'One thing at a time, Neil', I say to myself. 'Steady at the helm'.

W.O.R.C. Helps To Swing The Deal With Suzuki

Thanks to the kindness of a local blog-reader, I was flush with funds for an outboard motor. But I had soon discovered that it would only be enough for a secondhand one from Ebay, if that.

So a wrote a nice letter to Suzuki, explaining my debacle.

On Friday the day finally came for my meeting with Suzuki's Sales and Marketing Manager, Gareth Lumsdaine, and I set off at 5.30am for the hundred mile journey to Milton Keynes. This was one meeting I didn't want to be late for, and I arrived an hour early. As a sat in my van waiting for the allotted time, I made a mental note of my objectives:

a) To get a motor. Ideally a 15hp 4-stroke long-shaft outboard, with electric start and remote steering. And a warranty would be nice too.
b) To get assistance from a local dealer
c) To get a photo for my blog

We discussed transoms and propeller sizes, motors and boats, and how I might be able to try out different sizes of props and give my feedback. I would be pleased and honoured to assist. We also discussed W.O.R.C. (Wivenhoe Ocean Racing Club), of whom I am a proud member. Luckily I'd brought along a spare lapel badge with which to hopefully swing a positive outcome to the meeting.

An hour later I left in a bit of a daze.

I made a mental tick against a), b) and c), and thanked my stars that I'd remembered to bring that lapel badge. I metaphorically punched the air, the way footballers do after scoring a goal.

My First Blog - This Is What It's All About...

Sunday, 4 October 2009
This is my Tale Of A Boat For My Potplants. It is a new adventure for me - blogging and boating coming together for the first time.

I have moved to a new flat, which doesn't have a garden, but it is by a river. Wouldn't it be great to have a boat that I can sit on surrounded by my potplants?

Well, I visualised it happening, and I'm now on the first step of the rope ladder, now that I have been given a boat by a good friend.

The boat is a hundred miles away.

I know absolutely nothing about boats - a minor problem, indeed.
I don't have a trailer.
I don't have a car with a tow-bar.
I don't have a mooring.
The boat doesn't have a working motor.

But I do have some potplants, so all will be okay.

You are welcome to read my blog to see what happens.

Deja Vu All Over Again

My lovely old Grandad used to tell me when I was nee high that a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. As it was when I began my love affair with The Boat For My Potplants. And I do still have many miles to go - not least getting a motor - and I'm crossing my fingers that next Friday's meeting with Suzuki will present a positive outcome.

But while all this is going on, somebody told somebody that I'm a painter and decorator and that I've been working on "that boat by the pub with the potplants on it". Back in the balmy autumn I was asked to visit a lovely old wooden sailing vessel that's kept in a farm-shed awaiting renovation and painting, and its owner and I fixed a date for me to begin my first 'professional' boat job, and that date has now come up.

I arrived on Monday morning at 9am. By 10am I was frozen to the bone. Why I had to pick the coldest week of the year is anybody's business - but I'd agreed to do it, so I'd better just get on with it. Cold it may be, but what a privilege it is to be entrusted to work on someone else's pride and joy. And to be paid for it!

I looked at the extensive task ahead and had that deju-vu feeling all over again. The same one that I got when I first began working on my own boat. Just where to start? I had to reach deep inside my mind and pull out a gallon of positive energy to pick up a scraper, and start at the very beginning. It is, after all, a very good place to start.

It's funny how things work out. I would never have been given this job if it hadn't been for the Boat For My Potplants. I could instead have been decorating Mrs Smith's living room this week. Nice and warm. Cups of tea brought to me. 'One sugar today, Neil?' 'Yes please, Mrs Smith'. Nice.

Nah. Boats is more fun. More of a challenge. More rewarding. Give me that deja vu feeling any time.

Breaking News...Suzuki Outboard Sensation

On Tuesday evening I'll be going along to see the wonderful group of people that is the Alresford Creek Boat Owners' Association. Nobody there cares two hoots that I don't have a 'real, proper, sailing boat', and that instead I have a floating garden and shed that doesn't actually go anywhere, except vertically with the tide.

That's why I like going there, on the first Tuesday of every month. There are no airs and graces. No one looking down their noses at me.

Of course, I admit my Boat For My Potplants has indeed been lacking in the motor department ever since I became its proud owner.

But all that is soon about to change, cross fingers, with the help of those very nice people at Suzuki.

Incredibly, I have been offered one of their finest outboards, no other than a 15hp little beauty, all shiny and black, with long shaft and electric start.

I can't wait to tell my friends on Tuesday evening that it will only be a matter of time till I'll be joining them on the river, thanks to the powers-that-be at Suzuki GB. I may even take along a bottle of Carver to celebrate with them.

To discuss things in finer detail, I've been invited by Marketing Manager and top-bloke Gareth, to visit their offices in Milton Keynes. I'm counting down the days until that all-important meeting.

In the meantime, the recent heavy snow has prevented me from doing the planned varnishing of the rear deck today. So I thought I'd go along and just gaze adoringly at the Suzuki catalogue and dream of being out on the river this summer.

A Bit Of A Disappointment

I apologise to all my green-fingered friends out there in the boating world. I assume there are many. Or at least several. Perhaps a few. Or is it only me?

Since receiving a thousand pounds from a reader of this blog, with which to purchase an outboard motor, I've been somewhat neglectful of another very important aspect relating to my Boat For My Potplants - the potplants themselves.

This year they are indeed a sorry state of affairs. I did have my doubts when I saw them for sale outside a house in the High Street, with a sign "Winter Pansies For Sale - TEN for a fiver". So I suppose I only have myself to blame.

I mistakenly thought that my high-class horticulture would look after itself whilst I was busy holding top-level talks with motor manufacturers at The London Boat Show.

Without the potplants, there would be no boat. So although I may be ecstatic about A VERY EXCITING DEVELOPMENT with a certain company beginning with 'S' and ending in 'I' (more details next blog), I must remind myself that even winter pansies need the care and attention that they deserve.

Thanks Yamaha

So I strided (or is it strode?) in to the Excel in London for my first ever boat show, and made a beeline for the Yamaha stand. 'Good morning, Sir. Can I help you?', said the executive.

'Yes', I said, and proceeded to explain about The Boat For My Potplants, emphasising my collaborations with blue-chip companies who have been flocking to participate in this unfolding story.

'Of course, Sir. We would be honoured to donate our latest 15hp model with electric start, all in the name of good-will to you and your fantastic blog. All we want you to do is mention our name - Yamaha.'

Yamahayamahayamahayamahaaaaayyyyaaaaaaammmmmmmaaaaha.

And then I woke up and quickly got dressed and went round to my mate Simon, who had agreed to drive us down to the venue.

I was armed with my shopping list, comprising toilet light and outboard motor.

I didn't manage to get any of those, but I did end up buying an excellent cooking knife from a very nice man who gave me a special-offer free sharpener.

It's Showtime - Part One

For the first time I'm going to the London Boat Show. Before I had a Boat For My Potplants it never occurred to me that one day I'd become even remotely interested, let alone very excited, about spending a day looking at boats and boat-related products.

I'd better write out my shopping list tonight and leave it out on the hall table ready for the morning.

Here's what my list will include...

A light for the toilet
A new plant pot for the winter pansies
A 15hp Honda Four-Stroke Electric Start Long Shaft Slow Revving Outboard Motor

I'll wager that I'll only be lucky with the toilet-light, but you never know.

See how I get on, in Part Two - coming soon to a computer near you!

Now That The Turkey Has All Gone...

The Christmas turkey has all gone, and now I'd like to wish my blog-followers a Happy New Year with the latest Virtual Tour movie of The Boat For My Potplants.

'Come on Oliver', I said to my computer-whiz-kid son. 'Let's nip down to the boat and make a quick film before you have to go back to London.'

DreamWorks we are most certainly not, and we won't be winning any BAFTAs - but I think the boat's spirit has been captured - and it's kind of fun (for me, at least) to compare it to the first instalment that we made back in March 2010.

(Just click on either of the pics to start the virtual tours on YouTube, at the top of the blog)

The Search Is On For A Motor!

Thanks to the kindness and generosity of The Boat For My Potplant's secret admirer, I am now able to look for something to fix to the flat bit at the back, and my budget is a cool grand. Although this represents a small fortune to humble old me, I know that this won't get me a brand new motor - so RELIABILITY is a key factor in my choice for a second-hand machine.

Just like the world of boats was an alien planet to me a couple of years ago when I was given the old Norman, ...er, Callumcraft, ...er, Teal, I am now in a similar position when it comes to outboard motors.

And at the moment I don't know one end of an outboard from t'other, so I welcome all the help and advice I can get.

I do understand that LENGTH OF SHAFT and POWER REQUIREMENT are crucial in the choice. And it needs to have a REVERSE GEAR, and I've been told that 4-STROKE is better than two.

Well, I've measured from the top of the back bit (TRANSOM, I believe) to the bottom of the bottom bit (HULL), and it's around 50cms. And as the Colne is a tidal river and quite choppy at times, I think I need something between 10hp and 20hp.

So the search is on! And ideally I'd like the supplier to assist with fitting and connecting it all up.

This is turning out to be more exciting than opening my first Scalextric box at the age of four, and to add to the thrill, I am - for the first time ever - going to the Boat Show in January.

I can't wait.

In the meantime I think I'll make myself a nice cup of tea.

Putting The Right Foot Forward

I'm now back in the real world again after a surreal couple of weeks in the south of France. It's back to starting the van, getting the brushes out, paying the bills, climbing the ladders. How wonderful it would be if I could spend all my time on the boat. There's still such a lot to do...

...and so little time...

...but when I look back at how far things have come since I first climbed aboard the old wreck on that winter's day in St Neots, I don't feel too bad (see the pic on www.aboatformypotplants.blogspot.com).

And now I can probably count the number of things still to be done on one hand. Or maybe two. And perhaps on my left foot. And my right.

I still have to...
ONE HAND
Varnish the rear deck
Repair the rubbing strake
Attach a bilge pump
Fix the rear rail
Get a motor
OTHER HAND
Get it working
Go on picnics on the river
Set up the record deck
Set up the iPod
Get The World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station up and running
LEFT FOOT
Have some fun
RIGHT FOOT
Have some more fun on board The Boat For My Potplants

Backed Into a Corner

We recently had some great weather and I dashed down to the Boat For My Potplants with great eagerness to get the deck painted while I had a small window of opportunity. I only had a couple of hours available, as I had arranged to go in my van to do a job on the other side of town in the afternoon.

So, without hesitation, on the boat I went, took off my jacket, and got cracking with the paint brush. Luckily, I must have been a contortionist in a previous life, as I had to hold on to dear life as I bent over double to do the side decks - but hey-ho, it was a beautiful day, and I threw caution to the wind.

Around lunchtime, the usual throng of drinkers amalgamated outside The Rose And Crown.

Oblivious to their gaze. I continued doing a sterling job, working my way to the pointy bit at the front, then clambering over on to the planks on the quayside to finish off the bow.

Very pleased with myself, I stood up, gained my balance, and walked off the planks back to the van.

Great, I thought, a good job well done, and still on time to get to my next 'proper, paid' job.

I went to start the van engine. But where's the key?

I retraced my steps in my mind, recalling how I'd left the key in my jacket pocket, the jacket being inside the boat that I'd just painted the deck of.

Please tell me that I'm not the only person who's ever backed themselves in to a corner?

(apologies to regular readers of the blog - I will be away now till 4th December. Backed myself in to another corner by agreeing to paint the hall of www.lepetitchateauexperience.com . It's a tough job, and somebody's got to do it, so I thought it may as well be me)

Warm Cockles

Knock me down with a feather.

This is a true story that will warm the cockles of even the coldest

heart…

Regular readers will know that so far the boat has only travelled vertically with the tide, due to a distinct lack of a motor.

Thanks to the provision of paint from Dulux and power tools from B&Q, and with the recently refurbished toilet and the reinstated kitchen (complete with running water), the boat's renovation is rapidly approaching its final nautical mile towards completion.

But there's one BIG thing missing - an outboard motor.

Unfortunately I had come to a conclusion - I couldn't afford one. River voyages and picnics aboard would sadly have to remain distant mirages beyond the horizon.

That was until last week, when a local blog-reader who had been following the unfolding story came round to visit.

What occurred next was something that only happens in dreams.

This very kind person gave me an envelope.

I opened it, and inside there was a card with the words '…this is for you to get a motor with, so that next summer we can go for some picnics on the river'.

And out fell a substantial cheque for The Boat For My Potplants!

Two Lessons Learned

When I began renovating the Boat For My Potplants, I didn't have a clue as to what pipe or hose was supposed to go where.

Anything and everything to do with plumbing is my weakest spot. and it simply leaves me cold. So I did what any normal person would do – I left it alone.

What I really wanted was for my friend Mark to just fix the whole damn thing for me.

‘Mark. I can't do plumbing. And I'll reward you handsomely', I pleaded, thinking of the decorating job I’d just been paid for.

'Sorry Neil - I'm too busy. And besides, it will help you to help yourself'.

That became LESSON ONE - help myself.

So on a blustery and dark mid-week evening, I dragged a long hose along the quay to the boat's filler cap and proceeded to half-fill the water tank.

I tried the foot-pump. Nothing happened. Not even a trickle.

After calling Mark yet again, I realised I was on my own.

‘You will have to take it all apart’, he advised, emphasising the 'you'. The prospect of ME doing THAT filled me with horror.

So, yesterday I told Jane I may be gone a while, and set off to the boat with a heavy heart. I ended up with a multitude of nuts, bolts, washers, rings, springs and bits of plastic all over the cabin table, with still more parts having fallen on the floor. I just stared blankly.

I needed to take a break and wandered across to Pete The Roof's boat down river, and told him of my problem. 'Now what you should have done was to make a drawing as you took the pump apart'. That was to be my LESSON NUMBER TWO. Er, thanks, Pete, I'll remember that.

I returned, trying to keep inwardly calm, and made a cup of tea. To my utmost astonishment, after cleaning up the washers, adding a little lubrication here and there and scratching my head some more, I somehow managed to put things back together.

I reconnected everything and pumped the pump. Like a miracle, water came out the tap, into the sink, down the plug-hole, and out into the river.

It might not sound like a big deal to anyone else, but for me it was a Major Achievement.

And now I can do the washing-up on the boat, so in celebration today I'm off to Tesco's. Never before have I been so excited by the prospect of purchasing a dish-cloth and tea-towel.