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Mouldy last won the day on October 12 2015

Mouldy had the most liked content!

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About Mouldy

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  • Birthday 18/05/1956

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  1. There are several tracks from the programme listed on iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/tv-season/so-sharp/id1257269336 Not sure if any are the correct one though.
  2. Mouldy

    I Hate.....

    Poor grammar and I know mine is far from perfect but 'should of' is not the correct abbreviation of should have (should've), your used instead of you're etc. You get the general idea?
  3. Mouldy


    Exactly what I said - no investment. The original Triumph Motorcycle Company went into receivership in 1983 and John Bloor bought the rights to the name and restarted the company, initially building new versions of the old bikes, but eventually developing new models using Japanese manufacturing techniques. Incidentally, I used to own a Triumph 955i Daytona which proved to be the most unreliable and expensive machine to maintain that I ever owned in 35 years of motorcycling. As far as British cars were concerned, I used to work opposite the Pressed Steel Fisher works at Cowley where many of the British Leyland bodies were produced and used to see Austin Princess bodies with rust on the rear three quarter panels before they were even finished. Little wonder that they were covered in vinyl on the finished car. The difference between our industry and others from Europe and the Far East is that we were content to rely on past 'glory' whilst others were intent on improving, by investing in new techniques. As Grendel said, there is no base to train new people into now, the industries that have been lost, will remain lost. We are no longer a force in manufacturing in this country, too many are employed in service industries or in the financial sector. In my humble opinion, there is too little focus in our education system in encouraging youngsters into apprenticeships, when they can go to university to earn a debt and a degree, usually in a subject that has little to do with the field in which they are eventually employed.
  4. Mouldy


    Let's not forget that buying British is not always a guarantee of quality. The demise of our car and motorcycle industry could probably traced back to the atrocious build quality of British Leyland, Vauxhall and the other mainstream manufacturers back in the 70s and 80s. As the result, we started buying European and particularly models from the rapidly improving Japanese, who offers so many of the extras as standard in their range. Most of the faults lay with the lack of investment. Why were Triumph still producing motorcycles in the 70s that were introduced in the fifties when it was plain to see that the likes of Honda were stealing sales with their multi cylinder bikes and why were Leyland (laterly Rover) still producing car engines in the 90s that were introduced in the 50s. It's easy to blame the consumer for a lack of loyalty or for not being patriotic towards home built products, but the lack of current choice can frequently be traced back to out own fault many years ago.
  5. I thought this might be of interest, but may have posted in the wrong Forum (apologies if I have). Since dad passed away earlier this year, my mum has been slowly going through cupboards of stuff that dad accumulated through the years (he never did like throwing anything away) and came across this, still sealed in its protective wrapper. The expiry date for the film contained within is 1991, so I can only assume that dad was sent it when he booked a 42ft Connoisseur from Porter & Haylett in Wroxham for a holiday in 1988. I can't remember Hoseasons offering free gifts, but perhaps they did. I trust that whoever was responsible for the horrendous grammatical error on the front was severely reprimanded!!
  6. Mouldy

    The Nbn 2018 Calendar Competition

    One for me too, please.
  7. Mouldy

    Autumn Delight - Bronze Emblem

    Nice video and well edited too. I've only made and finished one video at the end of a holiday in the Tarn region of France about five years ago. It took so long to put together and I currently don't have the time, but there are some things that come across better with moving pictures than with photos. Thanks for sharing.
  8. Mouldy

    Another Week On Grande Girl 1

    Saturday 30th September I awoke to the sound of the alarm on my phone that I’d set in good time to allow me to get ready and pack without rushing. Debbie followed me and got ready to take the dogs out and much to my amazement, Iain was up early too. They went out with the dogs and I went for a shower. Dressed and ready, I set about packing up all of the bits and pieces that we had taken with us. The others returned with the dogs and the wife went for a shower and to get herself ready. There was no breakfast planned that morning, time was too precious, so it would be a McDonalds, although I’m ashamed to admit it. I went out to mop the decks and pull up the mudweight. We cast off from our moorings at about 07:45 and chugged slowly (and sadly) back towards Wroxham and the boatyard. I was at the helm, Rachel showered and dressed and then got Harry ready, finally Iain went for a shower too. Bags were being packed and the beds stripped, washing up done and everything tidied away. I do not know how we had managed to take so much stuff. We only passed a couple of boats on the move between Salhouse Broad and Wroxham and all too soon we turned right off the Bure and into Summercrafts yard. It looked as if we had been beaten back by just one other boat – Gala Girl 2 was moored under the canopy and being thoroughly prepared by an army of people, cleaning outside and inside, even polishing the crockery and cutlery before carefully putting everything back in its place, ensuring that their high standards were being maintained. Small wonder that their craft, although far from new, are amongst the smartest and best presented on the Broads. I reversed, self-consciously to moor alongside Gala Girl, anxious not to mess up when it was being witnessed by so many people. Fortunately, there were no mistakes and we were soon back in almost exactly in the same position as our holiday had started a week previously. Our cars were under cover, just a few short steps from Grande Girl, so we went to collect the keys and pack them ready for the journey home. The fuel was dipped, Rachel and I set about packing the two cars, the wife was looking after Harry and Iain was making himself useful and vacuuming each cabin as they were emptied of our possessions, using our rechargeable Dyson that we’d taken with us for that purpose. Finally, with everything stowed and the cupboards and drawers finally checked to make sure nothing had been left, we stepped off the boat for the last time. Whilst we had been packing the cars, a couple more boats had also returned, one of which was Gainsborough Girl, which I was pleased to see. I had been considering hiring her for next year and my one reservation was that our dog may not be able to tackle the relatively steep steps from the outside steering position into the saloon. Before making the booking, for our peace of mind, I wanted to check that Harley could cope with them and hoped that Sue would allow us to try when the current hirers had cleared her of their belongings. Iain and I went to see Brian and Sue, where I was given a refund of £21 and a few pence against our fuel deposit of £110. I wasn’t unhappy, we’d been across Breydon, to Norwich and back and explored much of the Northern Broads too, so the fuel cost of about £89 I though was pretty good. I explained to Sue about making sure the dog could manage the steps on Gainsborough Girl and she was quite agreeable, so I wandered round to the boat with the dog. My fears proved totally unfounded, she hopped on and scampered down the steps without a problem. The wife had already taken a quick tour and it met with her approval too, so I went back to the office and booked for next year. That was settled then. We had hired Grenada Girl twice, Gardenia Girl once and Grande Girl a total of four times since 2004, so it would be a first on Gainsborough and our first time on a ‘fly-bridge’ style cruiser. Obviously, she is not new, but in outstanding condition inside and out and very striking in Summercraft’s livery. Booking made, we set off on the short drive to Roy’s car park. Rachel, Debbie, Harry and the dogs went to find a seat near the moorings behind Hoveton Visitor Centre, whilst Iain and I went to get breakfast from McDonalds. We returned to the others and sat for a few minutes eating and talking over our holiday. When finished, we went for our customary visit to Wroxham Barns where the wife bought yet another cross stitch to add to the many that she has been accumulating, in readiness for her retirement (she says). We sat at one of the café’s whilst Rachel and Iain took Harry into the farm. They took loads of pictures of him with the animals and he looked as if he had really enjoyed himself. We eventually set off for home at about 12:30 and including a forced diversion to avoid a build-up of traffic on the A45, arrived home by just after 15:00. So our Broadland adventure was over for another year, but it can only be about forty-eight weeks until we start again. I can hardly wait!! As there are no photos from our last day, I’ll post a few more taken during our holiday. Hope you like them!!
  9. Mouldy

    Another Week On Grande Girl 1

    Friday 29th September So the morning of our last full day afloat dawned, or it would have if it hadn’t have been so cloudy. It was raining too. I was up first as usual and with a cuppa in hand I watched as the murk became just a little lighter to show that night had turned to day. The wife and Iain were both up too and I went for a shower as they went out with the dogs. While I was in the shower, some total clown raced past causing a wash so severe that I was almost knocked off my feet. I pulled back the shower curtain to try to identify the boat, but all I could see through the steamed-up windows was a white hull and blue cabin top, heading towards Ludham. He must have been in a hurry. Iain and Debbie arrived back on board before I had finished getting ready, neither Simba nor Harley were great fans of the rain apparently and had both decided when they had walked far enough. I finished getting ready and emerged from the aft cabin when finally dressed to find the others watching a very gloomy weather forecast on breakfast television. The plan for the day was, as usual, a visit to Ranworth and the church, and overnight at Salhouse, but seeing how busy the rivers had been, I was keen to get away and see if we could find a mooring at Ranworth Staithe. Rachel was in the shower as we cast off and headed back down the Ant. There was loads of clearance at Ludham Bridge and no need to wind the saloon roof down or lower the windscreen, which was a relief due to the rain. Debbie lit the grill and cooked some crumpets for breakfast, hot and dripping with butter, just as I like them! Breakfast finished, the others went, in turn, to get ready. We soon arrived at the end of Ranworth Dam and headed along it towards Malthouse Broad. I had taken a pair of binoculars with me and as soon as the staithe came into view, I peered through them to see if there was room. It looked quite busy, but I thought I could see a space, so I headed for it. As we drew nearer, there was definitely a space there and it looked narrow, but I thought we could fit, so gave it a go. It was a little more tricky with the roof up, the rearward visibility somewhat compromised, however I squeezed Grande Girl in and we moored up safely. By now, the rain had eased, so it was agreed that we would head for St Helens and treat ourselves to a coffee and slice of cake each in the café behind the church. I had already wrapped some potatoes in foil and put them in the oven to cook for lunch and with the buggy set up, Harry strapped in and a couple of umbrellas we set off and soon arrived at the church gate. The lighting for photography was flat and the sky grey and gloomy, so I set my camera to simulate black and white film and took a few photos of the outside of the church before changing back to recording in colour and going in. Debbie, Rachel and Harry stayed outside whilst Iain and I went in. He ventured up the tower and a couple of minutes later, at 11:00, the church bell rung out. I hoped that he hadn’t been too close when it had rung!! I wasn’t in the mood for clambering up the stairs that day, so went out and stood with the wife (who was keeping Harry amused) whilst Rachel went up the tower to find Iain. I went round to the café to find it closed again. I had been looking forward to a slice of their cake, someone there makes exceedingly good ones and I’m sure it isn’t Mr Kipling. We were joined by the others and we went out through the gate and followed the lane round the back and past the village hall. Rachel, Debbie, Harry and the dogs went back to the boat. Iain and I went along the boardwalk to the floating Norfolk Wildlife Trust Centre. I climbed the narrow spiral stairs, found a pair of binoculars and looked through the windows to see if I could spot anything unusual, but as usual, was disappointed. I’ve visited there several times over the years and can only ever remember seeing anything out of the ordinary on one previous occasion some twenty years or so ago, when one of the staff there guided us to look at a heron’s nest, high in a tree on the far side of Ranworth Broad. Strange to think that a bird with such long legs builds a nest so far off the ground. I rejoined Iain downstairs and we wandered back to the boat, pausing to have a quick look in the shop on the way. I left him there and ambled over the green to Grande Girl while Rachel went in the opposite direction to join Iain. To make up for the disappointment of not having cake at the church café, I had a slice of the cherry cake that the wife had made to take with us on holiday, before topping up with water for the last time. We stopped there for lunch of jacket potatoes, cheese, coleslaw and salad before casting off and heading for Salhouse and our last night on board. As we left our moorings, a boat whose crew had been mud-weighting on the broad, moved towards our vacated spot as another boat who had just entered did the same. I didn’t look round to see who won, but just chugged back up Ranworth Dam to join the Bure. I had thought about stopping at the moorings for St Benedicts Church for a mooch round, as I hadn’t visited there for many years, but they were occupied so we carried on to Salhouse, where we moored at the far end of the quay heading past (and out of the way of) the water point. The weather was still grey and overcast. There had been occasional brighter periods, but there had also been a few sharp showers. I noticed that there were a couple of other Summercraft boats there, Gainsborough Girl and one of the Gala Girls. I guessed that like us, they were finishing the following morning and enjoying their last night in easy striking distance of boatyard. Iain and Rachel went to hire a kayak for an hour and we watched as they paddled past. Far too energetic for me, I’m afraid. I prepared a sausage casserole and put it in the oven and peeled the spuds to go with it. Debbie was keeping her grandson occupied, feeding a couple of swans and a large group of geese, from the sliding side door at the helm. The kids (we still call them that!) returned from their kayaking and Debbie and Iain took the dogs for some exercise. TV reception has never been great at Salhouse, but we managed to get one channel, so it was watchable and chilled for a while when they got back. We had dinner at about 19:00. Sausage casserole and creamed potatoes washed down with white wine for Rachel and Debbie (they said they needed to finish the bottle) and cider for Iain and me! With the washing up done, we had a final game of crib before turning in. Although some of the packing had already been done, it is difficult to do too much with little space to stow the packed bags, so it would need to be an early start the following morning to finish the packing and tidy up the boat. Although Iain and Rachel had been married in April this year, due to financial constraints they had put their honeymoon off until next year and would be away for their first anniversary. As a result, they’d be unable to join Debbie and me on the Broads next year, so I fell asleep thinking about which of Summercraft’s fleet would best suit us for our next Broadland adventure.
  10. Mouldy

    Another Week On Grande Girl 1

    Thursday 28th September Thursday morning dawned and I was up at about 06:00. I lit the gas under the kettle, climbed the two steps into the saloon, opened a curtain to peer into the gloom and try to see what the weather was doing. It was raining – no sunrise photos again. Debbie soon emerged from the aft cabin and rummaged in the drawer to find the dogs collars and leads and much to my amazement, Iain materialised from the fore cabin in time to help her. Waterproofs on, they soon departed and left me with my morning cuppa. I had said that I would prepare a ‘full english’ breakfast that morning, so went for a shower. By the time I emerged, showered and dressed, the others were back, Rachel and Harry were up and the saloon curtains were open, so I set about cooking breakfast. I don’t often get the chance to have a cooked breakfast, but usually manage one or two when we’re on The Broads. The galley on Grande Girl is okay, but a little cramped, so preparation was not easy but bacon, black pudding and sausages (from the butchers in Ludham), baked beans, fried eggs, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms made it all worthwhile. A veritable morning calorific feast and certainly not one that WeightWatchers would approve of, but it was very good, even if I do say so myself. We had to run the engine for a while to generate hot water for washing up, but it was well past 08:00 and there weren’t many neighbours left to disturb anyway. Washing up done, we cast off and headed up the Ant. The others went to get ready and by the time we chugged into Stalham, everyone had showered and dressed. I headed for what was Monfleet for water, only to find that it had returned to being run by Simpsons, not that it mattered to me. We moored and topped up with water, but as the public staithe was full and we wanted to go to Tescos for the last of our shopping, I checked with the boatyard and was allowed to moor there for a short while, having first moved Grande Girl from near the pump-out point. Rachel set up the Harry’s buggy and with him safely installed, we quickly headed off to the shops. It had, by now, stopped raining and we hadn’t taken waterproofs or umbrellas, a failure that we would all regret on the way back when the heavens opened for what the wife described as ‘a clearing up shower.’ All somewhat dampened, we returned to the boat, put the shopping away and readied ourselves to cast off. As it turned out, the wife’s statement proved correct, thankfully it was the last shower that day. We turned Grande Girl round and set off, with no real plan or destination in mind, but when we reached the junction where we could turn left for Barton Broad or right to head for Wayford, I turned right. In all the years I’ve been on the Broads, I can’t remember ever going as far as Wayford Bridge, never mind Dilham. We passed the once picturesque Hunsett Mill and I wondered what had got into the planners’ minds when they had granted permission to turn the cottage into the abomination it is now. We carried on up to Wayford and it is really quite a pretty stretch of river, however the clearance at Wayford was insufficient to get under and the public moorings were full, so we turned around and headed back the way we had come. We crossed Barton Broad and headed for Gays Staithe, where I planned to moor for lunch, not that I (nor any of us for that matter) was particularly hungry, still quite full from our breakfast. As it turned out, Gays Staithe was full, as was Neatishead. I wondered what was going on! Last night How Hill had been quiet, but today everywhere appeared to be relatively busy. Debbie made up some rolls for lunch, using the last of the roast pork from the previous night and rolls we’d bought in Tescos and we ate them whilst chugging back across Barton Broad. We’d been lucky enough to moor at Irstead a couple of years ago where Iain and Rachel had bought a decorated flower pot from a stand outside a house at the junction of the green at Irstead and the road (near the church). Unfortunately, they had managed to break it and were anxious to moor there again so they could get another. The moorings looked full as we approached, but there was just room to get the stern of the boat near enough to the quay to allow them to get off, buy a new pot and get back on, but as I manoeuvred Grande Girl into position, the owner of the private boat moored there said that he was just leaving, so as he started his engines and cast off, so we pulled the boat into position and moored up securely. The dogs were grateful for some freedom and scampered around on the green, Iain and Rachel selected and paid for their pot and Debbie and I chose another to go with the one we still have. By now, the weather had improved and it was quite sunny, with some broken cloud, but a welcome change from the rain from the morning. I took my camera and headed for the church – really quaint and unusual, with its thatched roof. I spent a few minutes taking pictures and another couple of minutes in silent thought, the memory not only of my dad still quite fresh in my mind, but also the effect on my mum, who at the age of 85 and bereaved after 63 years of marriage is still struggling to come to terms with her loss. Iain and Rachel joined me a few minutes later and I returned to the boat to prepare dinner. Beef casserole was on the menu, so I cubed and browned some braising steak in a cast iron casserole dish that we had taken with us, added carrots, mushrooms onions, red wine and I hate to admit it, a packet of casserole mix, before putting it in the oven on a low heat. Debbie kept Harry amused in the sunshine, until the others returned. I was tempted to stay there for the night, but wanted to go back to How Hill and see if there would be a sunset and the photographic opportunities that it would bring, so we cast off and headed back along the river. It wasn’t long before we arrived there and it was soon obvious that there were considerably more boats moored than the previous night. My preferred spot, just past the bend and opposite the mill, was already occupied, so we settled for a mooring along the straight. I feared that we might be disturbed by the usual Richardson’s Rush, but my fears were ill founded, not many other craft passed at all – it wasn’t until Friday morning that it happened, as we found out the following day. Rachel, Debbie, Harry and the dogs went to the field in front of the house, whilst Iain and I headed for the nature trail. I expected not to see wildlife there that I couldn’t see on the rivers and wasn’t disappointed, however for the first time in all of the visits I’ve made there, the secret garden was open. Although the azaleas and rhododendrons has long since flowered, it was a colourful autumnal scene with many of the shrubs turning vivid shades of red and orange. We spent a few minutes looking round and Iain was particularly impressed by the size of the leaves of the gunnera, which looks like huge rhubarb. We returned to the boat, by which time it had cooled sufficiently to warrant raising the roof and we watched tv for a while until the sun began to set. I went out with my camera and suffered disappointment for the third consecutive night when the sunset was less than spectacular again. Oh well, better luck next year!! I returned to the others and we had our casserole, with some broccoli and the odd alcoholic beverage. With the washing up done, we settled down for another couple of games of crib, until I could neither concentrate, nor keep my eyes open. Hot chocolate and bed. All too soon another week was almost at an end - Friday was to be our last full day on the Broads for another year and I fell asleep wondering where the time had gone.

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