Abandon Boat!

It was a Regatta Day to surpass all others. The crowd gathered and it was a mighty big one, encouraged by the wonderful weather. The sail-past of some beautiful boats was stunning. The races were fun to watch.

Our mate Simon triumphantly held his winning trophy aloft - and somehow managed to muster up enough energy to go on to perform a magnificent set at The Station in the evening.

Funnily enough, my Boat For My Potplants became a sought-after venue, as soon as the word had gotten out that free drinks were on board.

Before long, there were eight or so guests on the rear deck, soaking up the sun. From my viewpoint in the galley I noticed we were tilting at a somewhat strange angle.

'Rob', I said. 'Can you lean over the back and make sure we're not sinking.'

'We are', said Rob. 'The water's coming in.'

'Right. Can everybody move to the front and get off please', I asked politely.

Nobody moved.

'I mean, NOW', I commanded, in a Captain sort-of-way. Full of authority.

That did it. No nonsense while I'm in charge.

The boat righted itself.  The day was saved, and so were we. And I was also saved from the embarrassment of having to explain how I sunk a boat whilst still in its mooring.

Phew. That was a close call
.

Simon at The Station

Regatta Day Is Here In Wivenhoe

Gotta get up, gotta get out, it's early in the morning and Regatta day is here.

What if I'm late, got a big date. There was a time I'd be dancing till a quarter to ten. Gotta get home before the sun comes up.

Up and away, Got a BIG DAY.

Down by the quay.

Amongst the great characters that make up this wonderful place.

Why Does It Take So Long...?

Question: Why, oh why, does it take so long to go such a short distance?

Answer: Because this is WIVENHOE, of course!

The Lovely 'Erindoors had been asked to make some bunting in readiness for the Regatta this coming Saturday. We set off to deliver it by hand to Graham and Lesley. The walk along from our place to theirs is only a few hundred yards by the riverside, and such a distance anywhere else would have taken three, maybe four, minutes at most.




But here the journey is fraught with danger. The danger of stopping to chat to anyone and everyone along the way.

By the Wet Dock. 'Hello there'. Along The Folly. 'Hello there'. Past The Quay. 'Hello there'. Outside The Rose And Crown. 'Hello there. Fancy a drink?'. 

Then we were alongside my Boat For My Potplants, and of course we had to stop by and plant the new geraniums.

Next to the Nottage Museum and near the Royal British Legion. 'Hello there'. Then on past our mates Rob and Sion's. 'Hello there. Glass of wine?' 

An hour later and the bunting is finally delivered.

No wonder I never get anything done around here.

Meet Captain Lucien

Fresh back from our holiday, we recall with great pleasure our meeting with Cliff and Liz from Down Under. Of course I couldn't miss an opportunity to tell them all about my Boat For My Potplants, and when I did, I was presented with a genuine Victoria Police badge (Liz is a cop) to be kept somewhere on board. Try as I might, I couldn't think where to put it.

The following day we went to a Vide Grenier (car-boot sale). I couldn't resist buying the Captain for a euro. I asked the seller what the Captain's name was. She thought for a moment, scratched her head, clearly thinking 'zees English are zo crazy' and came up with "Lucien".

And it dawned upon me that Captain Lucien can wear the badge, with pride and honour, on The Boat For My Potplants.

It all sounds a bit mad, but then dafter things have been known to happen at sea.

Straight To It

What a wonderful 'holiday' was had, if that's the right word for it. More like a 'living in France experience', but frustrating to not have access to a local WHSmith in order to pick up the July issue of Motor Boats Monthly and see myself in it.

I know, I know, it's all about me, me, me, and I feel ever so slightly embarrassed - but what the heck...we only get a few moments of fame so we may as well play to it, eh?

So, at the Calais Eurotunnel I made a dash to the shop, searched amongst the rack, and there it blinkin-well was.

I wanted to parade around and shout to anyone who would listen "Hey, man, that's me here on the cover".

Good sense prevailed and I whispered a few words to the Lovely 'Erindoors instead.

Covered!

Who would have believed that I'd end up having my picture on the cover of a magazine? And especially because of a boat, a subject about which I virtually know nothing.

Okay, it's not quite Rolling Stone Magazine, but it's very close in the echelons of my finest achievements. Motor Boats Monthly have done me proud - although I don't think I actually did say "I bagged a free boat" at any time, as quoted on the cover. Editor's license.

The magazine comes out today, but unfortunately I can't get it here in Saarf Fraaance. Also hence I can't put any pics up of my extensive research into the boats of the Canal Du Midi (technology hitch relating to camera cable and Internet deficiencies).

But I can reveal, without any reasonable doubt whilst on my hols, that Leffe Blond is a rather fine beer.

Indeed. Hic.

And so I say cheers to all those who helped me to get where I am today, with a free boat in the bag and my mug-shot on the shelves of WHSmith's.

Now I Know What It Is (I Think)

After all this time of believing that my boat is either a Callumcraft, a Teal, or a Norman, the good folks at Motor Boats Monthly magazine seem to think that in fact it is a NAUTICUS 23.

Well, I'll be blowed, and knock me down with a rope with a feather attached. But what would they know anyway? They only publish the world's best boating magazine, and decided to include a SIX page article about my Boat For My Potplants, the Quay Characters of Wivenhoe, little ol' me, and of course the Lovely 'Erindoors.

The magazine comes out tomorrow, ie Thursday, and should be available from all good newsagents.

What FUN!

Ten Steps To Heaven

Step One: Go down to the boat in the sunshine

Step Two: Tinker around, turn motor over and have a listen

Step Three: Beckon Canoe-Man Jon to come over for a beer

Step Four: Have a nice chat with Captain 'Erindoors

   

Step Five: Turn on hi-fi

Step Six: Get ready for bed

Step Seven: Play Dark Side Of The Moon very loud

Step Eight: Wake up. First thing's first

Step Nine: Put the kettle on

Step Ten: Rustle up some breakfast

That's it. Simple

                                     

Sleepin'

It's only right and proper that the Boat For My Potplants is slept on. And TOMORROW is the night, alright!

'Erindoors has sadly declined the well-intentioned invitation to join me, saying that she'd rather sleep in a comfortable bed at home.

WHAT!!!

What could be more comfortable than a couple of cushions and a quilt inside the cabin, the sound of seagulls squarking above, and the smell of outflowing sewage as the tide flows east of Colchester?

And the sight of sunshine upon the plastic flowers.


Tomorrow I will be preparing things for tomorrow night - and of course the following morning...

Duvet. Check.
Whisky flask. Check.
Fresh water. Check.
Jim-jams. Check

and then for the early hours of Saturday morning...

Coffee. Check.
Bread and butter. Check.
Bacon. Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.

CHECK MATE.

Iron Maiden and Potplants

By an extraordinary set of circumstances, I've recently been working with Dennis Stratton, former guitarist with Iron Maiden, and currently with Praying Mantis. I can report that he is indeed a Very Nice Man.

And not only that, he likes Wivenhoe a lot - but then again, who wouldn't?

So I approached him with an offer he couldn't refuse...'Well Dennis, how about playing something on my Boat For My Potplants when the small on-board studio is ready? It could do wonders for your career, you know, and we could do an interview and put it out on Radio Wivenhoe, the best radio station in all of, er, Wivenhoe.'

Dennis is no stranger to international stardom - but playing on a boat with potplants on the deck is a first for him, and he simply couldn't refuse, especially when he considered the consequences of being on the best radio station in all of Wivenhoe.

'Okay Neil, I could play along to a song I wrote for the the Praying Mantis album Nowhere To Hide, called Whenever I'm Lost'.

I came home and listened to the song. I pinched myself to make sure I hadn't been dreaming all this, and sure enough, I hadn't.

What A Day!

Yesterday wasn't one of those ordinary, run-of-the-mill days. No Sir.

I set off to the headquarters of IPC - the publishers of Motor Boats Monthly. I was somewhat hoping that Sally (the Features Editor) was going to give me some positive news about A Boat For My Potplants being in the magazine.

And sure enough, the news couldn't have been better.

I was shown the SIX pages (yes, I had to count on more than one hand) of the special feature, and I was left in a room so that I could proof-read the article. As I continued reading, my smile grew bigger and bigger.

The July issue is going to show my boat in all its former dilapidation, and now in all its glory. It will include pictures of local Quay Characters who have helped me with my adventure. There's Mike, Martyn, Paul and John - not to mention the lovely 'Erindoors.

And companies who have helped me have also been given a mention. Like Colchester Motor Glass, RoadPro and Sail And Cover. Dulux, B&Q and of course Suzuki are in there too.

And not only that - there's someone in-the-know at the magazine who's pretty sure that my boat is neither a Norman, Callumcraft or Teal - but something else entirely.

All will be revealed...

Which Way?

I have to admit that my recent jaunt at the helm of The Boat For My Potplants, although exhilarating, was for me slightly frightening.

Am I the only person in the world who is feeling a little out of his depth on his boat - whether on the Waters of Wivenhoe, or indeed anywhere else?

If only I were to have my own column within a boating magazine, I could write about being a novice on the river - something definitely outside of my comfort zone.

Or I could stick to the world of partying aboard - something definitely inside my comfort zone?

I dunno. Which Way?

Today I bought my train ticket for my London meeting with IPC (publishers of Motor Boats Monthly magazine) on Monday at 2pm.


All because of a few flowers on a boat.

Always Something On The Horizon

On Monday week I'll be travelling down to London to meet with my friends from Motor Boats Monthly magazine, so we can discuss the contents of the forthcoming feature about my Boat For My Potplants that's due to appear in their July issue.

I'm pretty excited about that.

In the meantime I've been obtaining various bits of equipment for my Vinyl-On-Tap programmes to be recorded on the boat during July and August. All I need now is a microphone, and I'll be sorted.

I'm pretty excited about that as well.

But of course, most importantly, the plants need watering - and the garden will continue to
flourish.

That's not only exciting, but also very important.

At Last!

YES! At last I did it!!!!

The truth is, that despite all good intentions two weeks ago, I chickened out. I considered and pondered while the tide came in. And I let it go out again.

I felt pretty bad about it, I can tell you. I don't usually allow my fears and demons to get the better of me, but on that day I did, and I went back home with my tail between my legs.

Then last Sunday morning I got a call from Paul. 'Are we going out on the boat then?', he asked.

And so we did. We untied, went out, and came back again.

Relatively unscathed, and no harm done, despite the bloody motor cutting out AGAIN as I went from forward into reverse, just as I was coming in (hence the film ending too soon, as my operative puts the camera down to try to help).

It must be ME doing something WRONG.

I'd got new petrol and opened up the tank air vent. The motor had recently been serviced. But still it cut out. Maybe I was being too timid, and should have given it more welly.

That must be it!

What's the nautical term for 'MORE WELLY'? All answers will be considered!

Today I Mean Business

Yesterday was my birthday and a joyous evening was had at our local Tapas bar in the company of our friends Rob and Sion and Nenah. After a few glasses of the excellent house wine, someone suggested we go out on the boat today.

And why not, I thought. The conditions are looking good. So at 7am, I'm up with a lark, contemplating the myriad things that need contemplating, before high tide that's due at midday.

Firstly I need to ditch the old petrol that's on board (I can pour it in the old car) and get down to Tesco's for a refill of their Finest combustion liquid. While I'm there I ought to get some milk cartons that can be used as line-floats for when we come back in to our mooring.

To say I'm a little nervous is a slight understatement. But with sensible and careful heads on our shoulders we should be okay.

So today is the day to gain some much needed experience and confidence.

No record playing. No pansy planting. No excuses.

It's real business on The Boat For My Potplants.

Full-On

It was a full-on weekend down at the Boat For My Potplants.

On the Saturday it was Independent Record Store Day and in the morning I went to a record shop in Braintree to buy some 45's for my upcoming radio programme, soon to be recorded on the boat.

Then in the afternoon we welcomed our special guests Neil and Angela (Neil being he who got me his dad's boat way back when it all began).

I thought we'd try out the records on board. The sun came out. We broke out the bubbly. A party was had. And why not, indeed?

The following day, at high-tide, we were all set to take Los Amigos out on the river for its first trip since having the motor serviced. Alas, the tide wasn't high enough, and our window of opportunity would not have been long enough.

That is one of the drawbacks of having a mud-bank mooring. Never mind, there's always manana.

Instead, we played some more records on board. The sun came out again. We broke out some more bubbly. Another party was had.

And why not, indeed?
Well, this is Wivenhoe, after all.

Motor Boats Monthly

What a great day! I met my V.I.P. guests at Wivenhoe Station at 10.23am, precisely as arranged.

Carl admires the view, and who wouldn't?

My special visitors were none other than Carl and Sally - the Editor and Features Editor of the great Motor Boats Monthly.

We sat on the boat and discussed things like outboard motors, pirate radio stations, and the benefits of artificial plants over real ones.

I drove them in the old 124 to see the boat sheds at Alresford Creek, the place where I spent many happy hours renovating, repairing and rebuilding.

We came back to Wivenhoe and met a few of the Quay Characters of Wivenhoe, including Mike of the Nottage Institute, Stan (who kindly allowed us to take photos from his window overlooking the river), and Dave the landlord at the Rose And Crown, who proved to us that in fact there is indeed such a thing as a free lunch. Thanks, Dave, your hospitality did the trick, because...

Mike enjoys the attention from Sally, and who can blame him?

...I can now reveal, with great delight, that a five-page story - yes, FIVE whole pages - about my Boat For My Potplants will be featured in the July edition of the magazine.

That will be just in time for the Wivenhoe Regatta. Hmm, that gives me another idea...

Messing About

Today I had the great fortune of spending a WHOLE day down on the Boat For My Potplants, getting ready for my special guests who are coming tomorrow all the way from London Town. I'll be meeting them at Wivenhoe station at 10.18 hrs.

The landlord of the Rose And Crown has agreed to put on some food for us, and high-tide will be around lunch-time. Perfect. I hope it'll be warm enough to sit on board and chat.

After adding some pansies to the planters, pinned down the Union Jack bunting, and sorted out the record player in the cabin. I swept, cleaned and generally pottered. I played some music and made some lunch (Pot Noodle).

Martyn came over to the boat. 'Did I spot you putting some flowers in earlier, Neil? You're bonkers!' But when I explained who was coming and why, he soon changed his tune, and even offered to lend me his microphone for effect.

I decided that the stained glass windows would look nice, but they needed a trim to make them fit. As I was doing that on the quay Geoff came along. 'You're mad, Neil'.

Maybe so, but I don't care. I just got on with it and had a thoroughly nice day messing about on the river.

Tough Call

Sunday was booked for some friends to come over for lunch but at the last minute it was cancelled by the very-nearly broken bones of Mike's leg. 'Never mind Mike, we'll do it another time. Hope you get better soon. Rest up.'

My mind raced into overtime at the prospect of an unexpected free day. What shall I do? Paint the windscreen? Put up some new Union-Jack bunting? Prepare the recording 'studio'?

Yes, to all three.

But 'Erindoors had other ideas. 'You could take me out for a walk instead', she suggested, with that certain look in her eyes that I knew meant business.

Doh! My plans and intentions were scuppered.

But thank goodness I took notice of my guilt complexes, and enjoyed a thoroughly wonderful exploration of local Bures, in deepest, rural Essex. It was stunning.

And I still managed to get some time in for the bunting when we got home. The 'studio' and painting will have to wait another day.

The Little Beauty

It's been a while.

Not since last Autumn have I ventured out with the Boat For My Potplants on the stormy waters of the Colne. Back then my little beauty of a new Suzuki motor cut out a couple of times, and particularly at the crucial moment of coming back into moorings.

That freaked me out I must admit, and caused me to lose what little confidence I had thus far been gaining in my quest for river navigation.

A few weeks ago, with the help of my brother-in-law Martin, we removed the motor and took it to those great chaps at the Suzuki dealer in Brightlingsea to find out what the problem was, and also to have the first service carried out.

A small amount of sediment had been found in the carburetor.  I hope that was the only problem, and that it's now been corrected.

Now I'm eager to get the motor back on to the boat and have another crack at seamanship just as soon as the cold weather eases.