Loo, Bees and Covers
Blue Jobs, Bees and Pink Jobs
The week began with yet another toilet problem, – we still haven’t heard about the egg-sack creature. I was about flush water through the pipes when nadda, nunca and zero happened, handle in slot to pump up and down –wouldn’t budge. Captain to the task saw the same result. We have a blockage came the stern words accompanied by an accusing look. How guilty was I......, many apologies fell from my lips and the guilt factor grew as things were taken apart and bits were transported to the cockpit mongst plenty of mutterings and tuttings. I popped out frequently to find a grim looking skipper – concretion you know, not the best job this...... More apologies.
A concretion is a hard, compact mass of matter formed by the precipitation of mineral cement within the spaces between particles. Concretions are often ovoid or spherical in shape, although irregular shapes also occur. The word 'concretion' is derived from the Latin con meaning 'together' and crescere meaning 'to grow'. Concretions form within layers of sedimentary strata that have already been deposited. They usually form early in the burial history of the sediment, before the rest of the sediment is hardened into rock. This concretionary cement often makes the concretion harder and more resistant to weathering than the host stratum or in our case tinkles and sea salt have a merry time of things. Yeah well, be-that-as-it-may my screwdriver is king here.
When was the last time you stripped the budding-concrete-hard-reef from the system ??? I asked on one of my mercy visits, partly out of interest and to lend more soothing words. Oh, back in Guatemala. Well colour me unsympathetic. This is a blue job [very thankfully] that should be done ideally every six months but definitely once a year......... I suppose I have been putting it off. You think............. from June 2012, so what were you waiting for ....the Moeraki Boulders to form. That’s very harsh. Huh. An angry first mate spun on her heels and returned to her saddled sewing machine, now certain that I had been duped into taking the fall for the blockage. Time to gallop up and down some zig-zagging.
Bear took himself somewhat sheepishly out on deck, armed with a piece of suede, a hole-punch, a hammer and my sharp scissors. Call it retreating to a safe zone out of reach of menacing fists...... The new task was to build buffers at the bottom of the turn buckles – the things that support the mast that have always caused chafe on the can covers. Next, was a trial run with the new brace system and the old covers.
Our new EPIRB arrived – the safety thing that sends a GPS signal when it’s water activated - hopefully never set off, just like his predecessor. Replaced, as they only have a six year year battery and funnily enough it’s cheaper to buy a new one rather than try to get a new battery for the old unit. Bear settled to the job of filling in all the new registration documents and posted them off to Falmouth, England. Within days a very nice lady emailed, as requested, to tell us all our information had been logged into the system. A trip ashore for a sparkling piece of pipe for the now wonderfully easy to flush loo. Out came the blue persons label machine for neat On, Off and other practical terms on the water maker.
I was so surprised when the new EPIRB was being fitted to the staircase, when I saw my draining board mat used as a fender to the door frame, well, I had to record the event for all time. I.... Whatever you think you want to say at this point I suggest you can it. My lips are sealed. Very wise, very wise with your history of varnish damage that led me to go on strike in the first place...... Well. What did I just tell you about staying silent....... Have you ever seen a sewing machine tool box hurled with such spite.
Run Bear, Run.
After lunch we play a game of backgammon, my lead of seven has been eroded and to add insult to injury my $186 kitty has dropped like a stone to $138, not a happy bunny. After supper we do a fast Mexican train domino-fest, the number of times I get to just a couple of chaps, look up and see my competitor has a smorgasbord of men – only to lose.
Some afternoons we pile into Baby Beez, park her outside the Yacht Club, walk a few hundred yards through one of the car parks to the posh shower block and reverse the procedure once clean, what could possibly happen that would necessitate the camera coming with us ??? I emerged one day this week to see the skipper beckoning me to the other end of the building. Don’t go too close but it’s certainly worth a look. Intrigued I stepped out into the afternoon sun. At the far end of the building a parked car was being buzzed by a swarm of bees. They were trying to pile onto the left wing mirror and we watched a natural ‘waterfall’ as they landed on top of one another and fell away to be replaced by a new-comer. We stood in awe for several minutes and I once again pledged to never, ever go anywhere, ever again without the trusty little memory preserver strapped to my side.
Meanwhile, after a long, drawn out prototype, I handed over the first four of nine jerry can covers, with reinforced brace hole and cunning eyebrow flap.
I’ll pose again for these stunners. Thank you captain.
The week ended with regularity, boiled eggs. Will there be an egg event ??? – Oh yes. I thought as the table cloth was pulled back it would be fun to use the work cloth and a black piece of Sunbrella to set up a mug shot. A very noble egg event, methinks.
Sadly, as I turned the event for the side profile shot a bit fell off. The best one, when the captain peeled it, revealed a marvellous hole, quite something when his spoon went in for prospective. I’ll leave you with the just-before-the-bit-fell-off shot.
ALL IN ALL KEEPING OUT OF MISCHIEF
SPEAK FOR YOURSELF