part 2 - Winter Works
Pamela Jane is the most complicated boat
I've actually owned; a proper loo, unheard of since my little
red Pandora; an inboard diesel engine, I've
never had an inboard before; and electronic gadgetry - all
right, I've had echo-sounders but never a speedlog . . . it's
easy to do five knots when you haven't got a speedo to deny
it.
And I can actually stand up in the cabin - now, that really
is a first. The pure pleasure of not having to crawl around
the place down below, and not worry about bashing your head
or other parts of the anatomy, its all just wonderful. Or at
least, it would be, if not for my deck leak . . .
Pamela Jane's last owners warned me that
they had an occasional leak - and when I took a look under
the cabin sole I saw what they meant. It had to be rainwater,
happily, as she is high and dry on the hardstanding at
Levington Marina, but tracking the source down is certainly
proving to be painful.
My first major though was that it was the cockpit sole, which
lifts up to give access to the engine and propshaft. It
certainly does drip a bit. So I tightened the screws down
hard - no effect. Then I put a cover over the cockpit and
after portion, from the mast back. No effect, again. I
replaced the sealing rubber on the foredeck hatch, only to
break one of the catch-wedges. No effect. It must be from
somewhere else, and now I've covered the foredeck, somewhat
approximately, with an old cover. It still meanders in.
Over the Christmas break, I'll buy some sealant and go round
every foredeck fitting - that'll keep me out of trouble,
won't it ? The hull will probably get a good polish and wax
over this holiday, too, if it isn't permanently raining - I
plan to leave most of the woodwork preparation and varnishing
until spring, when I can get it done properly, in suitably
warm or at least dry weather. That is one of the best things
about planning to sail away, the knowledge that if things go
according to plan I'll soon have the chance to sit and fiddle
about in warm sunshine, with no time pressures at my back.
I've also had the chance for a chat with the guys at the
marina, and they'll be very happy to put Pamela
Jane in the water towards the end of March. They
have plenty of time then, and can easily find me a berth for
two, three or four weeks. That works well with my plan to
quit work at the end of that month, and to give up my flat in
mid-April.
One of the interesting things about this little period in
life is the difficulty of actually keeping the job going
whilst knowing you are leaving. I've been planning to leave
since last July (99), and that means that sometimes I find it
very hard to resist the temptation to tell them where to put
the job! Both of my employing company's directors tend to be
on the miserable/grizzly side, and everything sales gurus
tell you about behaviour and mental attitude being contagious
is true - or at least truish - but I know I'm going,
so I won't let them bring me down to their level . . .
Finally, to end this missive on a brighter note, one of the
most interesting things I've bought lately is a little £5
map, covering all of France. When planning stops and
overnights on the way downchannel, it really is very useful
in combination with the pilot books - and above all, it
covers the whole trip to the Spanish border in a single
document, which is ideal for showing to interested,
non-sailing, people.
Around Christmas
Well, here we are in the year 2000 . . . . it may not be
that exciting really, but at least I now know that I only
have three more months to labour, if I can keep my
equilibrium with the boss, and if they can manage to keep
paying me!
One sidelight on the way our world is going is the increase
in rules and regulations. When I started sailing around 30
years ago, the Yachtmaster certification scheme was just
coming into prominence. With a number of friends, we joined
the first class in Ipswich, taught by Alan Swann, an ex-Naval
officer who was an excellent teacher, as well as being a nice
bloke.
We all passed the theory bit, and carried on sailing. No-one
bothered with doing the practical then, but the Yachtmaster
Offshore Cert meant that you felt you knew what you were
doing, and lots of yacht owners were pleased to take you on
board as a navigator.
In contrast, I've now booked to do a VHF day-course for my
licence, and I have to book a half-day test on Pamela
Jane - once she's afloat - for an
ICC (International Certificate of
Competance) plus a written test on Euro-regs so that I can
use the French Canals. In addition, I think that it is
sensible to get the yacht registered in the Small
Ship's Registry to make the paperwork easier abroad.
The only major thing that I've done over the holiday is to
finally replace that seal on the foredeck hatch - of course,
I managed to break one of the nylon wedges which take the
catches, and spent several happy hours trying to
sort out a replacement - getting hold of a piece of nylon
proved easier than I thought, but cutting the right profile
wasn't too easy. Never mind - it is done now.
My old buddy Kevin is going to visit soon to go over the
diesel with me, and I must chat up Mick to check the
seacocks. Better safe than sorry.
© Christopher E. Gosling, January 2000