Fear & Loathing at the Southampton Boat Show

Well, here we are. After a tow from London that took 24 hours more than was expected. In order to avoid a force 6 southwesterly that was coming up round Beachy Head, our tug driver, Graham, took us round in circles in Pevensey Bay for about four hours. He had to do this because his capstan was broken, so he couldn't just shorten the tow line and drop anchor. We hit the weather anyway when we headed west. Things fell over, and Paul Hadfield began raving about "inadequate bloody lashings", which was fair enough.

We discovered the thing about the capstan when we got to Cowes, as me and Stitch had to go over to the tug in the dinghy to help haul in the towline. At this point, the MCA and the cops turned up and crawled all over Graham's tug for a good amount of time. Word to the wise - when going under tow to Southampton, don't hire a tug driver who has an ongoing feud with the Southampton Port Authority.

Another word to the wise - there are lots of powerboats crewed by spoon-faced morons in the Solent. If they refuse to slow down as they pass while your wooden ship is on the hip of a tug, this may cause the tow line to rip straight through the port bulwark and one of your stanchions. Needless to say, we're sitting starboard side to on the pontoon at the show.

On the morning when we sailed (ooh!) for about five minutes (oooooh!) into the show, we were joined for some PR stunt by Ellen MacArthur, who was forced to mess around for publicity photos on the ship, which by now was strewn with the sponsor's banners. I strung up a flag above the main course yard that the photographer wanted in shot, but then he was too scared to climb into the fighting top. C'est la vie, je suppose.

The day before, I'd made the mistake of wandering into Dennis' eyeline without carrying anything.

"Tom," he said, "Are you looking for a little job?"
"Go on then," I said.
"Just pop up and unwrap the flag from the pole, will you? It's all tangled up there."

It was as I was standing seventy-odd feet up, on the main crosstree, that I decided I need a pay rise. Luckily (or maybe not), this could be on the cards. With Patrick's departure, I have magically turned into him, being given the food money and getting moaned at by the other crew and so on. But Roddy might give me more money. I don't know. I want to take a week off after the show and see what I can find. If I still need a job, I might go back. But I don't really want to be around while the ship's being re-crewed.

Anyway, Ellen MacArthur was fairly personable. "How's your morning been?" I asked in an idle moment. She seemed slightly taken aback that anybody was actually talking to her, instead of barking photography-related instructions at her. By all accounts, her day was going to be a long one.

She asked how long our tow had had taken. "Forty-eight bloody hours," I said.
She was suitably taken aback, which on reflection seems rather odd. You wouldn't have thought that Ellen MacArthur, round-the-world yachting superperson, would be terribly impressed by a 48-hour journey. But then, it was a pretty bad journey. And we ate all the food.

Last night, we attempted to go down the pub, but ended up in McDonalds, having lost Bob, Ryan and Jamouli. One of the girls on security almost put them on our trail, though. She recognised them from our description as we passed by before - "Have you seen a guy dressed as a pirate come through here? With a builder?"

Still, here we are at the show. I've got a day off today (yes!) as Mum and James are coming down. Now we've settled into not having tours, but letting people wander round the boat and ask questions, I think things will be okay. Stitch, Jamouli and I have plenty of time to watch the girls go by, and of course to engage in lame banter with the girls on the RNLI and America's Cup stands.

It is awfully yachty, though. Some of these people have so much money, I don't think they even realise it.

There's more to write, but I'm pretty tired. Thursday was a 16-hour working day. Yesterday was 13 hours. And I don't really want to become the manager. But I do need a job. Advice, condolences, etc. on the back of a postcard.

Not An Hour Ago, I Was Covered In Tar

Masts are up. Except the mizzen. But we'll do that tomorrow, along with the yards.
The rig is dangerously loose, but as long as no one goes nuts during the rigging fit, we should make it through okay. Too many chiefs, not enough Indians. I am definitely an Indian, though, so I don't have to duke it out Dune style with little kris knives to defend my territory. Dave's had his pay halved due to not actually being whathe claimed, it seems. Yet more new people (Jeff, Hamilton) have joined the circus. Dennis' waxed moustache and overbearing beard continue to be the centre ring attraction. Not that we can get any instructions out of him.

Many on the verge of breakdown. Specifically, Stitch and Roddy. If one (or, Lord help us, both) loses it, we could be in trouble. If Pat 1 is injured in such a way as to be unable to continue on the boat, we're definitely going to crash and burn. Pat 2 is less essential, since she refuses to climb the rigging. This leaves her doing sod all.

Sent my CV to the lady at the Taipei Representative Office today. This in response to signing the contracton the house in Tulse Hill with Adam, his brother Nathan (and soon Paul and Henry) on Saturday. I require money to paythe rent.
I need to stop spending so much of my pay. I do not have time to spellcheck this post. Apologies for any errors you find -- try not to take them personally.

I think I need a cup of tea.

Let's see now. I've got a reply from Chaosium, who are interested in my book proposal and want me to send an outline. However, this will have to wait till we get back from Southampton.

As for the boat... we were supposed to leave at 4:30 am yesterday, but we were unablke to get the mini-gate for the keel out in time before the tide rose. At around eight we started again, having cut through the supporting pipes, and chiseled away the remaining cement and concrete. Then we just tipped the thing over with a couple of jacks and hauled it out of the way.

A pretty big crowd turend up to watch as the tugs pulled us out of the dock. We made a few sedate turns on the Thames, as there was some trouble attaching the line to the forward tug. And then we had to sit around for a while for the water level to drop, so we could get under London Bridge.

Then away we went, with a good four feet of clearance for the bowsprit. People took photos of us taking photos of them (or was it the other way round?) as we passed under Tower Bridge. The wind picked up a little, yet we enjoyed a stately transit of an hour or so down to the Docklands, passing moored Thames barges, the Cutty Sark and the Thames Barrier. Because we set off too late to get into the King George V dock, we're now moored up at a pier a little way downriver from the Woolwich ferry crossing, and right next to the Royal Artillery Museum. We're off the edge of the A-Z map area.

We've got the weekend free, so I'm off to do some shopping. I kind of want to see a film. Henane (or however you spell it) said she wanted to see Goodbye Lenin - I probably should have suggested we go together, but I didn't think of it at the time.

...

SteveCon 3 was yesterday. Great fun.
It's still far too hot. Work on the ship is going well.

Life on the Ocean Wave

I shall be living aboard the Golden Hinde from tomorrow. This will doubtless restrict my Internet access, so anyone who wants to get in touch should use my Hotmail address (tmcgrenery AT hotmail).

My first day was today, and involved lots of sanding of deadeyes, which are the wooden thingies that hold the ropes. I think they're called deadeyes because their three holes make them resemble skulls. I have no evidence for this. It's just conjecture based on me thinking they look a bit like skulls.

The rigger from the Cutty Sark is coming tomorrow to help us out. Should be fun. Going to be ropes everywhere.

NACHTMUSIK

For those of you who are interested, I've put the first part of the comedy documentary I worked on -- NACHTMUSIK -- up on the web (though I'm thinking of uploading it to TriggerStreet.com - I'll let you know).

I'm afraid due to file size constraints, it is only the first (less funny) bit available right now, but I should get the rest uploaded some time soonish.

The movie is available here. Sorry about the pop-ups, it's Angelfire again.

In Your Face, Space Coyote!

I am gainfully employed. Not for the job I went to an interview this morning for, though. As I was on my way home, someone phoned me up about a job I'd almost forgotten. I said I was in London. He invited me down for a chat. I went and met them. I start on Monday.

I'm working as a deckhand on the Golden Hinde.

Yay!!