"Pass the Cushion"
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Thu 18 Dec 2014 23:57
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"Pass the Cushion" – Bear to
the Rescue
   Tuesday the 16th of
December. We had a really accurate weather
forecast given out on the morning net, backed up by what we found on the
internet – gale warning. All morning things gradually built and by late
afternoon Beez was bucking against her tether. Very strange to feel surges and
waves after so long on the hard, in fact rougher conditions than some days at
sea. The two and only benefits is the sandflies cannot find us and the snap,
crackle and pop noises of the hull nibblers is overridden. The groans from the
ropes straining is a little unnerving, off-putting as you can do nothing else
but listen, hoping, and things clack and tap quite furiously that are usually
silent. Some boats had to re-anchor and the boating community never ceases to
amaze with people turning out in the slashing rain to offer help to each other.
The only boat to move over our side of the anchorage passed by at speed with
several hands on deck. By seven the wind was a steady twenty five knots with
gusts to thirty five. By eight o’clock everyone was hunkered down as best they
could and hoping things would settle. We ate and I lost badly at games, then to
bed in a terse mood, Bear thrilled and smiling and to watch a couple of episodes
of Bones, how he loves the lead character. We had the radio on just in case of
overnight events and crossed our fingers firmly. This morning things went
completely silent at around half past five, brilliant, a couple of hours solid
sleep – that’ll be a no then, my friend hit crescendo notes only a consummate
snorer can produce...........
Wednesday the 17th.
Overnight gusts reached the forties and we heard on the net about a boat coming
in from offshore had to divert north as Opua was too wild to enter. The
authorities from here drove up to meet the crew and completed the formalities.
What lovely people there are here in NZ and that applies to officialdom
too.
Rod and Mary had offered us one place
in Mrs Puki to do shopping in Kerikeri today and I nominated Bear, I had plans
to have a much needed sort out. I sent him off with a comprehensive list, please
may he not go off piste and bring back extra stuff.......... I so don’t like
finding room for stuff when we have no room..........
   Off Bear went in Baby Beez. Now in
the old days I would wait until I had waved ‘you know who’ off to work on a
Thursday, then with coast clear I could race around and throw anything I needed
to get rid of without making the bottom lip quiver or listen to a million
reasons why I really shouldn’t condemn a said much loved, prized possession to
the city landfill. Just one example: black rubber bands, yep, not even elastic
bands, preserved badly from medical school days that fractured and crumbled on
minor stretch. Arr........... Save it or
there will be a hurting. Back to the story. Once
I had armed myself with a said ‘treasure’ I would watch with glee as it was
dispatched to the lovely dustman at eight o’clock, then I could get about my
day. Only twice have I ever been questioned, have you
seen........ well as eighteen months and nine months had gone by in
each case I felt no need for guilt about the trivial and clearly unnecessary
items so long unmissed. Huh, what about my Drizzabone
waterproof, genuine article hat. Oh, Arr, Oh, forgot that, anyhoo,
it smelt like a dead ferret and hadn’t been on your head in yonkers, in fact
months. Dare I growl at this point. No.
Amazing though that you should ask about it the very next day after I’d chucked
it, my bad luck, it hadn’t rained in such a long time....... Who has the bad luck ??? Well you should curb your need for
clutter. Watch Bear retreat into Baby Beez with ever decreasing notes of
mutterings.........
Back to today. No sooner than the
dear man had disappeared than I got stuck in. Cockpit, sea
toilet that I erupted into the
lounge and to put my bits away in the underfloor outside-cleaning-varnishing-store were the
serious targets. The cockpit not so much needing a clean, more like mucking out,
I would start by putting my varnishing kit away so giving me space to move stuff
as I cleaned. Being on strike from varnishing - not going back over the reasons,
no intention of picking it up again until I send Bear off for a few days in a
B&B so I can do the cockpit edging,sometime just before we sail away from
New Zealand. I could put my tins and brushes away in my half of
said hidden store. Well colour me unhappy, I lift the kitchen carpet, lift
the cover and .............what do I find........it’s all
full. Now bear in mind we won’t lift Beez out of the water again until
her bottom needs anti-fouling in Australia, which to my knowledge and Bears
belief has hardware stores, so why oh why do I find a roller set with THREE
extra sponges, more disposable gloves than Harefield or Great Ormond Street
could use in any busy year.......need I go on.
That plan shelved then. New plan, a
stiff libation. I hear the little voice in my head say “but it’s only a quarter
past nine in the morning”, Oh, just a little one then for Dutch courage and
bravery to continue.
New plan. When himself returns demand
he sorts his – trying so hard not to use the word that rhymes with trap........
and leave my section empty.
Once again in the cockpit. I set up a
folding crate put all his bits of bilge paint, cleaning stuff and small pots I
have never seen before and set it aside. Rain falls heavily so the conservatory
gets quite muggy. I start from the front. Scrub everything, play chess with
stuff and get into the swing of things. Rain stops, open the front and back
windows. Front half looking good, back half cannot swing a wet tissue. Rain
again. Windows zipped again. Metal polish a winch, I can reach that, hmm, very
shiny.
Well colour me happier. The sun comes
out. Great. I unzip everything, conservatory swung back like a pram hood just in
case the clouds threaten, but for now I can put all the chairs out to air and
the cockpit bench cushions are spread over Beez. One on the bimini
hood........... The large box is now made into a voluminous bin. All my bits of
varnish, well while I’m at it I check the tins I had piled in the sea toilet,
having replaced my larder – I can do it – I throw the treacle pudding we have
had since we left the UK. I don’t know any UK flagged vessel that doesn’t have
at least one lurking in a dark corner, you know the ones you boil in the can for
six weeks..........and a custard that expired in 2009. I give myself a talking
to about stock rotation. We have our stores under the seat, buy new and eat it.
Discipline, this ship suddenly has a lack of it.
 Bear returned with several bags of
shopping and a carrier bag full of tomatoes, oh no, remember what I said about
hoping he hadn’t gone off piste. He hands the rest of the shopping bags
in.......... Before Bear climbs aboard I ask
sweetly if he will do a rubbish run. The big box if full and I’ve filled a giant
black sack AND with nothing of his, I found plenty of my own. I put the collection of tomatoes in a string veg bag. Before Bear gets back I think I will be nice about the underfloor
storage issue and empty everything out into his crate, which now sits ready for
his attention and sorting. I go to pull up the rubber mat in the bottom of my
section to give it a good scrub, stuck down with something or other that’s
sticky. I sit deflated.
  Bear returns, notices a bit of a
change going on and that the shopping is still in the cockpit. Knowing it safest
not to comment asks helpfully what would you like me to
do. Sort your end section of the under the floor in the kitchen. I
don’t want anything in my section. So I can’t put my extras in
the bit you allowed me in your section. NO, now completely out of
bounds. Before you go all sweet on the cute one and think badly of me read on.
Now the most tomatoes I’ve ever
bought in one go is six, eight, well twelve if we know people are coming and the
time I bulk bought all those green ones to wrap in newspaper before crossing the
Pacific but not FIFTY THREE bright red ones. Oh but they
will keep really well, they have never been in a fridge, they taste really
lovely – I’m told – I hope. But without fuss or comment the ten
dollars worth were placed them in a veg bag, I never said a word about the
several in their midst with natal clefts., no
entering a Woman’s or Gardening Show with this little lot of misfits. I clearly
have other battles to meet head on in any case.
   I can’t sit and do nothing so I
assemble the Christmas tree. The new set of blue
lights are coupled with batteries and I test, my oh my, these should have come
with a warning, I didn’t realise the first setting was ‘flash’, now arc eye, all
I can see is blue flashes. Then I fiddled with balls and had a bit of fun with
the different pictures of the completed tree.
Meantime, Bear, without complaint,
gets on his hands and knees, scrapes up the sticky stuff, cleans both sections –
the end one in the picture is the water pipe business, lining both with new
anti-slip mat. The man is a magician for stowing his stuff neatly. I’m left to
fit mine and down goes the lid and carpet. What
next, you can help me put the cockpit back together. Out he goes, I
call after him that the first thing to come in will be the bench seat cushion
from the bimini hood. What cushion. The long
black one, pass me the cushion. Nope. What
do you mean nope. I race out and peer hopefully over the pram hood. Bad words,
very bad words are exploded from firmly pursed lips. Bear does the ‘I see no
ships’ pose. I think I see it, floating, over
there. Points far into the distance. Well colour me
hopeful.
Bear and Baby Beez go off on a rescue
mission. The cushion has made it quite a distance with a steady breast stroke.
Bear disappeared briefly behind the far distant boat and on his way back I could
make out his cheerful, smiling face. He pulled up and showed me the flip side of the errant cushion, this is quite dry you know, do you want me to go and wash
it. That will be good, thank you. You can see from the picture that
the water around the girl looks very green, stirred up by the storm. Pass me my shoes. Off he goes once more. I rustle
together a pasta meal for him. He has been a good boy but I’m loathe to tell him
that. Fed and showered I again lose badly at backgammon and sequence but do
really well with winning a few bob at rummikub. A few
bob, I’ve been robbed. Bones will put you right, they are
threatening to get married in the next episode.
 A troubled sky
tonight, I wonder.
Thursday the 18th. Bear got up and
used his four slot egg holder. Sadly, the eggs were in the fridge. All to do
with the cockpit sort out I suppose. For the first time in my life I stirred the
contents of my egg and drank it. The other one wasn’t too bad. Clearly, cold
eggs will have to be turned over if the egg thingy is to be a success. But does
it stop egg events. Not a chance. The funny thing was
when Bear lifted the lid on the said messy boy it was half
empty. Poke your finger in to show our dear readers. It’s too hot,
I’ll go half way. Well..........whatever
next. Back to normal methinks well at least we can hope, until the next
project.............
ALL IN ALL QUITE SOMETHING
THE WAY THINGS GO
A REVELATION OR WAS THAT A
REVOLUTION...... |
