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Timbo

Chairman
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Timbo last won the day on August 1

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About Timbo

  • Rank
    Full Member
  • Birthday 01/01/1966

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Lincolnshire
  • Interests
    History, Archaeology, language, wooden boats, woodwork, fishing, filmmaking. photography in no particular order.

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  1. Breaking news...scoop... "Ice-cream, you scream, the police get called, it's embarrassing!" says man at centre of the Wroxham Ice-cream shortage!
  2. Timbo

    Oulton Week

    I'm looking forward to it! So if If RT hugs one bank and the boat towing her hugs the other, we should be OK? How long was that steel cable you wanted me to buy Dave?
  3. Ellie stowed cakes and fresh ground coffee, cheeses and lashings of beer, no ginger, in the galley. Broads Edge slipped by and up ahead I could see the turning to Sutton. Gracie was bouncing up and down with excitement on the step beside me as we both helmed RT, her engine gently ticking over, gently down the river . Lots of things tick. Clocks, watches, I suppose ticks tick too, as do bombs! BANG! RT's engine stopped dead. Gracie yelped, I swore. “What have you done?” asked Ellie. I quickly checked that all of our mooring lines were safely tucked out of the way and not trailing in the water. They were. Behind us the stragglers from hand over were making their way down river and we were drifting into midstream and turning to block the river. Asking Gracie to 'please stand still', I went out on deck and deployed the bow mudweight to halt RT's progress downstream. Fortunately, RT is equipped with mudweights fore and aft for fishing purposes, so the aft mudweight was also deployed. I have to admit I struggle to lift and deploy the 25KG weights. I'd heaved the bow weight far enough to pull RT's nose into the reeds and bushes on the starboard bank. Ellie and I now used the aft mudweight to pull RT's stern out of the middle of the river. Hoisting the weight, swinging it back into the water, pulling on the line and then lifting the weight to begin the process again. While I made sure we were secure I asked Ellie to phone Doug or Dave for advice. Dave answered first, and after getting me to check the prop shaft, look for oil in the tray (there was none) we started discussing...my phone rang out loud. I could still hear Dave speaking, but my phone was ringing. I looked at the caller id on the screen. It read 'Dad'. The old boy has been gone these last years, but he was ringing my phone now! “Are you alright?” Ellie must have sensed I was somewhat shocked. I showed her my phone and got back to discussions with Dave. We flagged down a friendly privateer who kindly towed us back to the grassy bank in front of the wetshed. To say I was heartbroken would be an understatement. Crushed, devastated, bereft, distraught. None of these words could do justice to how gutted I felt. “I think we are going to need some spannering!” said Gracie giving me a hug. Ellie set about making a fry up. Ellie instinctively knows when I've over-done something and I'm flagging and in need of energy. After tea and the washing up was done, the theme tune to the A-team boomed around Kingfisher Quay as Super Dave arrived in his Spanner-Mobile. He strode around the wetshed, two giant spanners in his hand and 'spannering' was definitely going to happen! Ellie and Gracie set off on the march to the toilet block as Super Dave arrived beside Royal Tudor. “I've been fitting a galley!” he said, adjusting the gusset of his spandex tights, tweaking his mask and removing his silk cape before climbing aboard RT. Dear reader's, it just shows the depths of my distress that I made no comment at the time! Super Dave spannered for all he was worth! Ellie and Gracie returned and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea while we let RT's engine cool down and then spanner some more, but it was no good. RT's engine would not turn. Gracie's voyage had come to an end already, or had it? As Doug telephoned to see how we were getting on I was feeling totally crushed. I passed the phone to Super Dave so that he and Doug could talk technical. Things were not looking good. However, Super Dave passed back my phone, hitched up his tights, twirled his moustaches and activated the BoAT SIGNAL! You could hear the dots and dashes of the Morse Code 'da da and diditing' over the airwaves as Super Dave hatched a plan. Back at his secret hideout he had a spare engine which RT could borrow. A fellow caped crusader was being despatched to our location to tow us to Beccles so that Gracie's voyage could continue. After the Wooden Boat Show, RT would be towed to Super Dave's lair where the spare engine would be temporarily fitted to give us a chance to repair RT's engine! “Tea and cakes are ready!” Gracie called from the galley. Super Dave was ushered into a seat and plied with tea and cake. “Everything looks better after tea and cake!” said Ellie. “Yes it does Grandma!” agreed Grace.
  4. The Further Voyages of Grace “This is the BBC Light Programme!” A small coin drops into a tin cup. “Thank you!” And so begins our journey to Norfolk. This time Ellie had packed the car, so she and Gracie sat in the back seats, the beagles were in the boot space and I had the luggage for company in the front seat. Of course, this meant I could bring none of the items I wanted to bring and those that I was allowed to bring...were not in sufficient quantities! I had taken the time to record a selection of my favourite episodes of the Goon Show to while away the miles, the episode we were listening to was The Jet-Propelled Guided NAAFI. Now, dear listeners, I mean readers, if you should ever chance to listen to this episode, for extra giggles, swap around job descriptions and titles to reflect Broads related organisations and locations! The miles flowed swiftly with me chuckling in the front and Gracie giggling in the back at Bluebottle's 'naughty sausinges'. “I don't know what they are talking about Timbo or why it's funny, but it is so funny!” Soon we were at Stalham and after opening up Royal Tudor, Gracie and I took 'The Boys' for a walk while Ellie pottered about tidying. “It takes acorns a long time to grow, we did it at school. How old are these trees?” asked Gracie as she scooped a handful of new acorns. Some things, well...most things, I'm pretty lousy at. Some things I'm good at. When it comes to landscape and history I'm on very firm ground, even in a marsh. So adapting the information for seven-year-old Gracie I told her of the Great Storm of 1703, of cows blown into treetops, roofs collapsing, ships sunk and the devastation of England's oak trees and how important oak is to the English navy and economy. We touched on enclosure and how to estimate the age of trees (those we were looking at 1760-1810 give or take), the work of John Evelyn and Roger Fisher, 'Acorn Fever' and English naval officers scattering acorns through holes in their britches. I made sure to 'drop a fart' while demonstrating scattering acorns. Never underestimate the power of a good fart joke when educating kids of all ages, or cows blown up trees for that matter! Back at Royal Tudor I made ready to do all those little jobs I'd put on my list since our last visit. However, we had been visited by a crustulam navicula aedificium perito manducans, or 'Doug' as we like to call him. We had new window hoppers, a new hatch in the galley floor to stop me falling into the bilges, batteries charged and connected and not a crumb in sight! “We will have to buy cake for Doug!” exclaimed Ellie. “Unicorn cake?” asked Gracie. “Lots of cake!” confirmed Ellie. So I contented myself with doing essential engine checks before being dragged to Tesco. I lifted the cockpit floor and yes, the engine was still there! Tesco. I hate shopping. No, let me correct that? I hate aimless shopping. It's probably the geographer and cartographer in me, but I tend to map out the location of products in a supermarket. I cannot be doing with wandering aimlessly about starring into fridges and freezers and groping bread loaves. Luckily I had an excuse and while Ellie and Grace did the shopping, I sat with 'the boys' and gave them a drink. I whiled away the time talking to Mike (Chameleon) when he rang. Mike is another tortured soul, who like me, is regularly held hostage to 'the shopping' and we regularly 'conflab' while our respective other halves are 'on the shop'. Finally we were back on board Royal Tudor. 'The boys' had partaken of one last walk, Ellie was putting away the shopping and Gracie and I started RT. Her engine started first time, I gave her some revs and let her idle a while while I made sure all was well. We exited our mooring and RT was responding much better to the helm than she had of late. Gently we glided from the mooring. A nudge astern and forward and she easily swung to face the opening of the wetshed. A gentle nudge forward and we smoothly exited the shed and made our way down river. Ellie was still pottering in the galley and Gracie sat with me at the helm of RT, whose engine was gently ticking.
  5. Timbo

    Duckhams

    There is in fact an old bottle of Adsil still in amongst the 'gubbins' that was found wedged at the back of one of Royal Tudor's lockers!
  6. Ah...a true Brit through and through then!
  7. Mean's a doctor is on board. Could be fun! I'm of Yorkshire, Jewish, Irish and Scots origins, born in Singapore...which according to some bloke I met in the Brit Club in Bahrain makes me Welsh!
  8. The rules were changed in 2004 and are about to change again. To wear an un-defaced blue ensign on your vessel you do need to be a serving officer in the maritime forces or an active reservist in addition to any award made to your vessel. The fine is currently set at £1K. It's something I had to look into on behalf of my Dad (Uncle Albert) and I had a nice chat with a chap at the Admiralty on the subject. He explained it as 'like wearing a regimental tie if you were never in the forces or getting an SBS tattoo if the closest you ever got was delivering spuds to Hamworthy Barracks'. Apparently it is the right of every British Citizen to fly the Red Ensign and is the flag you are supposed to fly and not the Union Flag. (When working abroad we would always carry a red ensign in case of emergency. We were told British troops apparently treat anyone flying the Union Flag with suspicion.) Fly the union flag and it means the Queen is on board. Fly the Flag of St George means there's an Admiral on board. On board Royal Tudor I have Uncle Albert's collection of flags. He shinned up many a mast to collect them, so there's the masthead from HMS Carrysfort and the pennant from the Commodore's staff car that he swiped. I decided this weekend at the wooden boat show I'm going to make a light box to frame them and put it in 'The Captain's Cabin' on Royal Tudor along with Uncle Albert's cap ribbons and his bosun's whistle.
  9. Something Doug taught me...sharp tools and the right tools for the job. I have two sets of chisels, planes, scrapers, basically anything with a blade in it Pauline. I keep one lot on or around the boat and the other lot is either in my car boot or in my workshop at home. The ones on the boat have a habit of getting chipped and generally abused, so tend to be almost useless. If I need to do some serious work, then the chisels come out of the car boot...BUT I keep a very close eye on them as sharp chisels attract the eye of those who like to chop through nails or open paint or varnish cans with them! When I've finished with them...they go back in the car, which is locked! Sharpening woodworking tools can get to be a hobby all on it's own and generates it's own set of tools!
  10. Timbo

    My Day

    Nope. The trauma is too much!
  11. Timbo

    My Day

    My day? My day? No! Just don't!
  12. Timbo

    Fastnet

    Are they there yet?
  13. Put away those naughty chemicals and heat guns Pauline! Random Orbital Sander Mouse detail sander Selection of sanding discs and pads A sharp card scraper
  14. Timbo

    Fastnet

    Did they collect £200? If they passed Herbert Woods two and a half hours ago they should be just passing Wroxham Broad?
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