Timbo's Forum Meet Salhouse 2017

[Timbo]

Part One
We Have The Power To Rebuild Him!

"Flight Com, I can't hold her, she's breaking up, she's breaking up!" although these words were foremost in my mind as I hurtled spinning towards the bank attempting a 'stern on' mooring for the first time in three years, this was not what came out of my mouth.
"Flower, Fluffy Puppy, flipping, crikey, oh heck, Daffodil, Petunia!" is how the forum automated swear box would have translated my actual words as the boat span into the mooring like a MiG 29 taking heavy fire having lost a wing and the engine.
"Timbo! There's no need to swear...look out! You Daffodil, Fluffy Puppy idiot, have you ever driven a boat before? You Petunia!" said my better half Ellie as we bumped the bank.
But we had arrived at the Forum meet.

We had taken a steady drive down to Norfolk from Lincolnshire. The traffic was fairly heavy, but not too bad. Before picking up the boat I had a few chores to do but before that a stroll for the beagles followed by lunch at the Wayford Inn. As the weather was somewhat inclement, and we'd had the windows open for the beagles on the drive down, and we needed warming up. So for starters, we both had the butternut squash soup. Ellie then went for the Home-made Lasagne while I went for my very favorite dish at the Wayford, Liver, and Bacon. I'm starting to sound like Helen!

We'd been told to arrive at Barnes Brinkcraft for 2:30, we registered at the yard to be told the boat was not ready. So we set off to complete the chores. While Ellie nipped into Roy's for some last minute shopping, we'd both forgotten to bring waterproofs; I stood outside with 'the boys', our two beagles Dylan and Toby.  We then took a walk around the Rhonde to see Tim Collin to introduce him to my better half and settle up for some marine ply I'd ordered for Royal Tudor's deck. We then got a phone call to say that our boat, Belmore, was ready. To cut a very long story short after I'd  waded my way through a reception packed to the gunwales with returning and departing boaters, driven my car across the other side of the water twice and been ferried across the water by boat twice, it was now a quarter past five. But the car was parked, and we were finally off!

Belmore was a compact, clean and tidy boat. Just how 'compact' I will explain later. Dylan, The Starboard Side Boat's Beagle, was already in his life-jacket and eager to get on deck. Here we encountered the first problem. Belmore's decks are very narrow and tilted at an angle guaranteed to deposit a fat life-jacket-wearing beagle into the river. So sadly Dylan took to sulking as he was not allowed to take up his usual role of patrolling the decks and posing on the bow. Soon Toby, The Port Side Boat's Beagle, was in his life-jacket and, while I took the helm, Ellie quickly stowed away our belongings and then and joined 'The Boy's' and I to look at the scenery. Our intention had been to drop off the forum welcome banner, along with the twenty-foot flag pole Uncle Albert bequeathed to the forum, at Salhouse before Ellie and I went to scatter the old boy's ashes and then join the meet on Saturday.

We gently cruised through Wroxham and on along the tree-lined river. At the mouth of Wroxham Broad Belmore gave a little twitch. I put this down to moving against the flood tide, and we'd had a lot of rain the past few days. We carried on gently downstream and were soon at the upper entrance to Salhouse Broad.  We slipped into the Broad, and the sun began to peep between through the clouds as we made our way to a row of craft moored stern on at the upper end of the Broad. However, as I did a slow circle of the Broad there seemed to be little or no signs of life from the vessel's occupants.

There is a technique used among the Bedouin tribes for making male camels take on larger amounts of water before a long desert journey. It's known as 'bricking.' You see, what the Bedouin does is lead his camel to a waterhole and wait for it to bend to drink. He then creeps up behind the male camel holding two house bricks in his hands. Then, just as the camel sucks in the last mouthful of water, the Bedouin bangs the bricks together either side of the camel's 'flute and skittles.' This results in wax shooting out of the camel's ears and the camel taking an extraordinary large last gulp of water as it sharply inhales. I mention this as an aid to describing the effect of the piercing whistle given by the Hockham Admiral to alert us to the fact that he'd put down his knife and fork and was standing on the bank ready to assist us with mooring. So loud was his whistle that I took an extra large gulp of my coffee, and all of the wax shot out of my ears!

At the sound of the Admiral's whistle Dylan (DTSSBB) instantly came out of his sulk, ears flapping and eyebrows wiggling eager for mooring fun and mischief as I turned Belmore and headed back up the Broad towards the Admiral and his boat Friday Girl.
"I don't do jumping!" warned Ellie as we made our approach.
"You don't have to, just pass them the ropes," I said trying to sound more confident than I felt.

I would like the opportunity to point out that it has been some three years since last I helmed a boat. Trying to remember what I'd learned I checked the wind direction which was blowing down the Broad and would be on our port side as I came astern. So I started making my turn to starboard as though I was helming Royal Tudor and began to come astern thinking the wind would help push the bow gently into line as we came back. Yeah right! Belmore is not Royal Tudor. One slight breath of wind and Belmore's 8' 10" air-draft came into play, and she started to spin.
"Buttercup, Daisies, Daffodil!" I said as I tried again with the Admiral calling helpful instruction.
"A little burst of the bow thruster to port!" called the Admiral.
Belmore was now spinning like an autumn leaf on the river.
"Flight Com, I can't hold her, she's breaking up, she's breaking up!" I thought.
"Flower, Fluffy Puppy, flipping, crikey, oh heck, Daffodil, Petunia!" is how the forum automated swear box would have translated my actual words as the boat span into the mooring like a MiG 29 taking heavy fire having lost a wing and the engine.
"Timbo! There's no need to swear...look out! You Daffodil, Fluffy Puppy idiot, have you ever driven a boat before? You Petunia!" said my better half, but Ellie had managed to pass the warps to the Admiral who had now been joined by Grendel, and they pulled us into the bank with a bump.
We had arrived at the Forum meet.
 

[YnysMon]

Lol! Great write up. Looking forward to the next instalment! I must try to get to the Weyford Bridge Inn in September.

By the way I tried to reply to this lunchtime from my work PC but it would let me click into the reply box to enter text. I thought that I would message you direct from the staff listing but it wouldn't let me do that either. Was there a problem earlier or is it just my work PC I wonder?

Helen

[Polly]

Just choked on my coffee, Tim! You should issue a health warning with your posts.

[YnysMon]

I thought you'd be used to Timbo by now... 

[BroadAmbition]

Loving it

Griff

[Timbo]

Part Two
A Bloke From Rotherham

Has anyone else noticed that with a few exceptions all the blokes on the NBN are called John or Dave? The repetition of names proves to be invaluable to someone like me with a brain like Swiss cheese. On an hourly basis, I ask Ellie 'what day is it?'. So when it comes to trying to remember names I'm thankful that in Norfolk, at least, I have a good chance of it being John or Dave. Although I was once flummoxed when my guess at 'Dave' turned out to be a 'Brenda.' Funny girl, one of those emotional types, well she certainly had a lump in her throat!

Where was I? Oh yes, having just recovered from my desperate attempt at a stern on mooring a bloke from Rotherham blew in. I mean that quite literally. One minute he was reversing quite nicely the next his boat was doing somersaults. So it wasn't just me then! Unlike me, he recovered brilliantly and soon moored beside Belmore.
"Hello, Dave, Yorkshire Tripper!"
See, all Dave's or John's. Smashing friendly bloke he was.

I now set to erecting The Uncle Albert Memorial Flag Pole which had been stored under my bed ever since we moved the old boy from his old house into his flat. Of course, the instructions were in Ancient Babylonian but with Grendel's assistance and the Hockham Admiral's encouragement we finally put the thing together, and I left Grendel to hold the pole in place while I got on with unravelling the knitting that passed for cordage I'd brought with me.

A Queen's Scout I'm quite good at lashings and pioneering. Having Uncle Albert as my Scout Leader meant I'm no stranger to the construction of bridges, towers and death slides from rope and tree trunks. Untangling ropes, however, is another barrel of knitting!

By the time the flag pole was erected time was moving on, and we decided to stay at Salhouse instead jogging along to sprinkle Uncle Albert into the Broads. We never did get round to spreading his ashes, and the old b****r is still rolling around the footwell of my car!

Ellie and I took now took the boys for a stroll. Although Ellie and I have visited Salhouse in the past, we had not fully explored the amenities. So we took the 'Beagle Brothers' for their evening constitutional.

As we walked along the moorings Bob42 and his fair lady arrived. After a warm greeting, we moved on to catch the beagles up. Dylan took the opportunity at this point to roll in duck poop as he usually does. Rolling his eyes with an expression of 'What? What?' when reprimanded.

Poop bag duty is my job. So I unrolled the bags after Toby had finished, with his usual casual glance at me as if to say 'Get that will you.'. I then picked up the mess, only to discover that the bag had a large hole in it and my hand covered in dog crap. As we had not yet located the public loos at the carpark, we decided to head back to the boat so that I could wash my hands.

Back at the Broad and Maurice Mynah was just pulling in. There was a little group of forumites all shaking hands. Please forgive me if I did not reciprocate. I decided that declining to shake hands was better than giving you the 'poop finger.'

Now the Yorkshire Tripper must have the patience of a saint. At some point, a hired craft with a couple on board moored beside him and promptly turned their music, or what passed for music, on full tilt and then naffed off to the pub for several hours. I missed this, as I was walking the beagles with Ellie. Otherwise, I would have said something. Eventually, they returned and shut the music off.

After the long drive and excitement of the day, I was ready for bed. So until tomorrow...

[MauriceMynah]

7 minutes ago, Timbo said:

I decided that declining to shake hands was better than giving you the 'poop finger.'

For me this conjures up an image of a whole new James Bond villain, though Shiley Bassey's lyrics might take some re-writing.  

[grendel]

3 hours ago, Timbo said:

I now set to erecting The Uncle Albert Memorial Flag Pole which had been stored under my bed ever since we moved the old boy from his old house into his flat. Of course, the instructions were in Ancient Babylonian but with Grendel's assistance and the Hockham Admiral's encouragement we finally put the thing together, and I left Grendel to hold the pole in place while I got on with unravelling the knitting that passed for cordage I'd brought with me.

At one point it did look like Timbo was going to head off and have a brew while I was stood there holding the flagpole, I could envisage myself stood there all weekend, but a gentle prompt that I had spotted an end in the tangle of cordage got things under way again.

3 hours ago, Timbo said:

By the time the flag pole was erected time was moving on, and we decided to stay at Salhouse instead jogging along to sprinkle Uncle Albert into the Broads. We never did get round to spreading his ashes, and the old b****r is still rolling around the footwell of my car!

This reminds me of a time doing viking re-enactment, when we were at Rochester castle, a good friend in the society had recently passed away, and his last request was to be scattered at a re-enactment.

there being a sizeable castle keep at this site it was decided that the scattering would take place from the top of the keep, thus enabling everyone a share in the process. 

Unfortunately it was a little damp on the day, and instead of the ashes flying to the wind they fell in a lump, landing upon the steps up to the door of the keep.

Upon returning to ground level it was spotted that one of the castle custodians was toiling on the steps with a brush, while muttering under his breath about people throwing stuff from the top of the keep, at this point it became difficult to withhold the giggles.

The best bit was that the one person who would have been most amused, was the one whose ashes landed in a plop on the stairs.

[Broads01]

On 2017-5-22 at 9:37 AM, Timbo said:

Part One
We Have The Power To Rebuild . To cut a very long story short after I'd  waded my way through a reception packed to the gunwales with returning and departing boaters, driven my car across the other side of the water twice and been ferried across the water by boat twice, it was now a quarter past five. 

Tim, I know Barnes boats are squeezed in here, there and everywhere but exactly where was the boat located? It sounds like the previous hirer had dropped it off at Faircraft Loynes by mistake.... 

[Timbo]

Just now, Broads01 said:

Tim, I know Barnes boats are squeezed in here, there and everywhere but exactly where was the boat located? It sounds like the previous hirer had dropped it off at Faircraft Loynes by mistake.... 

A is the location of the boat.

B is where they sent me to park the car.

C is where I ended up parking the car when they realised I couldn't walk that far.

They need a disabled parking space for doddery old twonks like me.

[Broads01]

So they expected you to walk back from B which is a fair hoof even for someone fully fit. I enjoy a good walk, but not when I just want to be on the boat and away down the river. I'm used to the luxury of plentiful car spaces within 100 yards of the quay. 

[SwanR]

Great write-up. 

We had handed our boat back at Barnes that Friday morning and they had mentioned that they had a lot of boats going in and out that day. Sounds as if it was very busy.

[YorkshireAdventurer]

Aaah yes Capri playing the loud music I knew it must have been a bad sign when we saw them mooring up and noticed they'd managed to prune all the trees on their way down the ant judging by the various twigs,leaves,and branches that covered the majority of the deck area (either that or they were going for the camouflage look)

[YorkshireAdventurer]

I did three more stern moorings during the week,one at womack staithe,one at NBD,and my final one at Richardson's at 6.45 this morning....guess which one I had no bystanders at and did perfect