Always Something On The Horizon

On Monday week I'll be travelling down to London to meet with my friends from Motor Boats Monthly magazine, so we can discuss the contents of the forthcoming feature about my Boat For My Potplants that's due to appear in their July issue.

I'm pretty excited about that.

In the meantime I've been obtaining various bits of equipment for my Vinyl-On-Tap programmes to be recorded on the boat during July and August. All I need now is a microphone, and I'll be sorted.

I'm pretty excited about that as well.

But of course, most importantly, the plants need watering - and the garden will continue to
flourish.

That's not only exciting, but also very important.

At Last!

YES! At last I did it!!!!

The truth is, that despite all good intentions two weeks ago, I chickened out. I considered and pondered while the tide came in. And I let it go out again.

I felt pretty bad about it, I can tell you. I don't usually allow my fears and demons to get the better of me, but on that day I did, and I went back home with my tail between my legs.

Then last Sunday morning I got a call from Paul. 'Are we going out on the boat then?', he asked.

And so we did. We untied, went out, and came back again.

Relatively unscathed, and no harm done, despite the bloody motor cutting out AGAIN as I went from forward into reverse, just as I was coming in (hence the film ending too soon, as my operative puts the camera down to try to help).

It must be ME doing something WRONG.

I'd got new petrol and opened up the tank air vent. The motor had recently been serviced. But still it cut out. Maybe I was being too timid, and should have given it more welly.

That must be it!

What's the nautical term for 'MORE WELLY'? All answers will be considered!

Today I Mean Business

Yesterday was my birthday and a joyous evening was had at our local Tapas bar in the company of our friends Rob and Sion and Nenah. After a few glasses of the excellent house wine, someone suggested we go out on the boat today.

And why not, I thought. The conditions are looking good. So at 7am, I'm up with a lark, contemplating the myriad things that need contemplating, before high tide that's due at midday.

Firstly I need to ditch the old petrol that's on board (I can pour it in the old car) and get down to Tesco's for a refill of their Finest combustion liquid. While I'm there I ought to get some milk cartons that can be used as line-floats for when we come back in to our mooring.

To say I'm a little nervous is a slight understatement. But with sensible and careful heads on our shoulders we should be okay.

So today is the day to gain some much needed experience and confidence.

No record playing. No pansy planting. No excuses.

It's real business on The Boat For My Potplants.

Full-On

It was a full-on weekend down at the Boat For My Potplants.

On the Saturday it was Independent Record Store Day and in the morning I went to a record shop in Braintree to buy some 45's for my upcoming radio programme, soon to be recorded on the boat.

Then in the afternoon we welcomed our special guests Neil and Angela (Neil being he who got me his dad's boat way back when it all began).

I thought we'd try out the records on board. The sun came out. We broke out the bubbly. A party was had. And why not, indeed?

The following day, at high-tide, we were all set to take Los Amigos out on the river for its first trip since having the motor serviced. Alas, the tide wasn't high enough, and our window of opportunity would not have been long enough.

That is one of the drawbacks of having a mud-bank mooring. Never mind, there's always manana.

Instead, we played some more records on board. The sun came out again. We broke out some more bubbly. Another party was had.

And why not, indeed?
Well, this is Wivenhoe, after all.

Motor Boats Monthly

What a great day! I met my V.I.P. guests at Wivenhoe Station at 10.23am, precisely as arranged.

Carl admires the view, and who wouldn't?

My special visitors were none other than Carl and Sally - the Editor and Features Editor of the great Motor Boats Monthly.

We sat on the boat and discussed things like outboard motors, pirate radio stations, and the benefits of artificial plants over real ones.

I drove them in the old 124 to see the boat sheds at Alresford Creek, the place where I spent many happy hours renovating, repairing and rebuilding.

We came back to Wivenhoe and met a few of the Quay Characters of Wivenhoe, including Mike of the Nottage Institute, Stan (who kindly allowed us to take photos from his window overlooking the river), and Dave the landlord at the Rose And Crown, who proved to us that in fact there is indeed such a thing as a free lunch. Thanks, Dave, your hospitality did the trick, because...

Mike enjoys the attention from Sally, and who can blame him?

...I can now reveal, with great delight, that a five-page story - yes, FIVE whole pages - about my Boat For My Potplants will be featured in the July edition of the magazine.

That will be just in time for the Wivenhoe Regatta. Hmm, that gives me another idea...

Messing About

Today I had the great fortune of spending a WHOLE day down on the Boat For My Potplants, getting ready for my special guests who are coming tomorrow all the way from London Town. I'll be meeting them at Wivenhoe station at 10.18 hrs.

The landlord of the Rose And Crown has agreed to put on some food for us, and high-tide will be around lunch-time. Perfect. I hope it'll be warm enough to sit on board and chat.

After adding some pansies to the planters, pinned down the Union Jack bunting, and sorted out the record player in the cabin. I swept, cleaned and generally pottered. I played some music and made some lunch (Pot Noodle).

Martyn came over to the boat. 'Did I spot you putting some flowers in earlier, Neil? You're bonkers!' But when I explained who was coming and why, he soon changed his tune, and even offered to lend me his microphone for effect.

I decided that the stained glass windows would look nice, but they needed a trim to make them fit. As I was doing that on the quay Geoff came along. 'You're mad, Neil'.

Maybe so, but I don't care. I just got on with it and had a thoroughly nice day messing about on the river.

Tough Call

Sunday was booked for some friends to come over for lunch but at the last minute it was cancelled by the very-nearly broken bones of Mike's leg. 'Never mind Mike, we'll do it another time. Hope you get better soon. Rest up.'

My mind raced into overtime at the prospect of an unexpected free day. What shall I do? Paint the windscreen? Put up some new Union-Jack bunting? Prepare the recording 'studio'?

Yes, to all three.

But 'Erindoors had other ideas. 'You could take me out for a walk instead', she suggested, with that certain look in her eyes that I knew meant business.

Doh! My plans and intentions were scuppered.

But thank goodness I took notice of my guilt complexes, and enjoyed a thoroughly wonderful exploration of local Bures, in deepest, rural Essex. It was stunning.

And I still managed to get some time in for the bunting when we got home. The 'studio' and painting will have to wait another day.

The Little Beauty

It's been a while.

Not since last Autumn have I ventured out with the Boat For My Potplants on the stormy waters of the Colne. Back then my little beauty of a new Suzuki motor cut out a couple of times, and particularly at the crucial moment of coming back into moorings.

That freaked me out I must admit, and caused me to lose what little confidence I had thus far been gaining in my quest for river navigation.

A few weeks ago, with the help of my brother-in-law Martin, we removed the motor and took it to those great chaps at the Suzuki dealer in Brightlingsea to find out what the problem was, and also to have the first service carried out.

A small amount of sediment had been found in the carburetor.  I hope that was the only problem, and that it's now been corrected.

Now I'm eager to get the motor back on to the boat and have another crack at seamanship just as soon as the cold weather eases.

Window Of Opportunity

When will this blinkin' cold weather ease up? It just isn't conducive to practical and artistic boat-related thoughts.

Especially on the Boat For My Potplants, where I'm eager to get going on developing the radio studio using authentic '70's equipment.

Of course I also have to re-fit the motor after its service has been carried out.

And clean the canopy - I can't help notice a spot or two of green mildew having developed over the seasons.

But what I really want to do is find some way of utilising a left-over from the old pre-renovation days - my pair of leaded light windows.

They are too naff to get rid of, I'm sure you'll agree.

There must be somewhere I can put them. 

Way Down The Swanny River

What a difference a few days makes. Not long ago I was painting the exterior wall from an apartment's balcony overlooking the River Colne. It was so warm I was down to my t-shirt and nearly went further!

As I looked over I noticed our local family from whom I had saved some blushes - two swans and their adopted goose. Wivenhoe is for sure slightly quirky - we can't even manage a normal cygnet to grace our mud-banks.

Although I was enjoying the view and the sunshine, I was also eager to finish my work and get down to the Boat For My Potplants so that I could give the loo-library a little spring-clean.

Busy Busy Busy

At last! Some time to myself!

What better way to spend it than preparing the boat for my special guests coming up from The Big Smoke in April? The Editor and Features Editor of a very well-known boating magazine are coming to prepare for an article for their July issue all about The Boat For My Potplants and its delightful host village (or is it town?) of Wivenhoe.

What I thought would be a simple repaint of the windscreen turned out to be a much bigger job when I discovered the amount of moisture in the wood. Never mind - just get on with it Neil, I thought to myself. I'll stop for lunch soon.

So when my hunger couldn't be put off any longer, I pulled out the saucepan from the kitchen cupboard - sorry, galley locker, and was just about to pour the tinned curry in to it when at the last second I just happened to glance .

It was a stroke of luck that I did. I nearly ended up having curried slug.

Mmmm. Yummy. I wonder if I'd have noticed.

Motors and Bunting

I was very excited on Saturday when I found some new 'Union Jack' bunting for the boat. I'm technically competent to remove the old and fit the new. That's about as far as my ability stretches.

So on Sunday morning I went to the boat to complete my task. But before I had the time to even get the scissors out, Martin arrived.

He was coming over for the very important removal-of-the-motor that I thought I'd better leave well in the hands of his superior competency and ability.

We - or rather, he - detached whatever bits and bobs were necessary to be detached - and we carefully lifted the 9.9hp motor over the top of the boat, across the gangplank, and into my van, ready for delivery to the Suzuki dealer for its first service.

The 12th April is now focused in my brain as the date I have to have everything ship-shape by. For that's when I will be receiving some very special guests from the boat-publication world so they can complete their special feature about my Boat For My Potplants.

The motor needs to be back in place, of course.
The windscreen could do with a repaint.
The radio studio should be functioning.
The new geraniums have to be planted.

And, to be sure, the British flag bunting will be majestically flapping in the breeze along the side of the potplanters.

Notes to Self: ONE and TWO

It's coming up to the time to get the ol' new Suzuki mota serviced. What a pullava! My brother-in-law Martin is coming all the way over from Braintree on Sunday morning to help me get it off the back of the Boat For My Potplants, so that I can take it to the dealer in Brightlingsea (the excellent Boat Park And Ride) people in my trusty old Fiat van.

Inspired by Radio Essex' pirate station at Harwich

Note to self ONE: I must get a trailer one day so that the boat can be transported more easily for times like this. The dealer doesn't have a spare trailer, and I don't have one at all.

Note to self TWO: Get things ready for setting up the radio studio on board BEFORE April the 12th, which is when I have some VIP guests arriving from a top boating magazine to write a feature about my boat and Wivenhoe, for publication in their July issue.

How jolly exciting.

What's For Lunch?

With summer just around the corner, I thought it was time to go down to the Boat For My Potplants and  put the covers back on the cushions, now that they've been washed and ironed by the lovely 'Erindoors.

Thank goodness she came with me, as I'm certainly no dab-hand when it comes to fabrics and foam - it was like squeezing a king-size duvet into a queen-size cover. Impossible for me. Easy for her.

Whilst there, I couldn't help noticing that the interior needs a good old wipe over and some painting here and there - so today's the day for me to get some work done.

And I may as well have some lunch on board, chosen from the extensive collection of Tesco tins I found languishing in the galley locker.

What will it be, I wonder? With no reference to horse jokes, I rather fancy a gourmet meal of beef curry, new potatoes and mixed vegetables - a great stable diet if ever there was one. 

A HiFi For My Boat

Back when I was sixteen I put together my first hi-fi. I ventured into deepest South London (from the top of the Northern Line) to buy a BSR record deck and plinth, that I eagerly put together with an arm and cartridge. I bought a Teleton amplifier from Tempo, and also some Wharfedale speakers - and it sounded oh so good.

I added some Koss headphones, and I was streets ahead of my game at school, with only a few other students having caught the stereo bug.

And then when Stevie Wonder's Songs In The Key Of Life finally came out in September '76 'Songs to the tune of seven quid' (according to the headlines in Sounds), I rushed out to buy it and took it round to my school pal Jonathan's house, where we took it in turns to be mesmerised by the stereo vibes of Sir Duke on the cans.

Another pair of speakers on the rear cabin

From that moment I was truly hooked to the world of recorded and live music, and that LP then went on to become my all-time favourite - where it remains to this day.

Thirty seven years later, and I get the same buzz playing that track on my Boat For My Potplant's dedicated hifi system, comprising Grundig spherical 'Audiorama' speakers and Grundig R3003 receiver I used to work for the once mighty German company and managed to acquire some remnants of their old stock for just a few pounds - and I swear the sound is as good as some equipment costing many more arms and legs in today's money. I concede that maybe I should think about upgrading the Aldi deck (though good value at only £25!).

Down on the boat I can turn the amp up to eleven without pissing off the neighbours, so readers' suggestions of brilliantly produced music, played LOUD, to compliment my system would be most welcome.

Back To The Dogs

The conversation went like this at the lunch party:

Me (who doesn't own a dog): 'I've done this competition to find the Cutest Canine On A Boat, and out of the thousands of entries from the Norfolk Broads website forum, Tetley is the winner. I'd like to send a little something to Tetley to commemorate his new-found champion status, but I can't think what it could be.'
Wayne (who does own a dog): 'How about a dog-tag?'
Me: 'That's brilliant, Wayne - I'll get straight on to it.'

So I promptly sent off for a solid gold tag from the 'Solid Gold Dog Tag Company' and put my credit card through for the squillion quid that it cost, and hey presto it came in the post just a few days later. (The bit about the gold isn't quite true).

It's now winging it's way to its soon-to-be proud owner, and I hope it'll make him even more cute when he wears it.

He (and his owners, Mark and Julie) have an open invitation to come aboard my Boat For My Potplants anytime they happen to be near Wivenhoe. A dog bowl and biscuits await.

And if Mark and Julie aren't hungry, Tetley is more than welcome to have them instead.

Musical Ping-Pong

It's no secret that I like music, and I'm still a bit cross with my dad that he didn't whip me with a stick and force me to learn the piano when I was about knee-high. Instead I was too keen to go and watch Orlando or Robinson Crusoe on the old black and white telly, and so many years later and I still can't play a note.

The substitute now is to play CDs, records and iTunes - and where better than on the Boat For My Potplants.

The madness that was the World's Smallest Pirate Radio Station last summer has inspired me to make a weekly programme for Radio Wivenhoe that can be put out on the internet - so with a couple of free days next week I hope to start putting 'the studio' together. I guess I'm going to need some stuff like a mixer, a microphone, a laptop, maybe some recording device or whatever, so I'm going to need to do some research and pour over some eBay pages.

But I also want to hear what sounds do it for others, whether it be jazz, hip-hop, classical, R&B, gothic, rock, reggae. You name it, I want to hear it.

So I'll be inviting a different guest each week to join me for the craic, have some beers and play some musical ping-pong similar to the following...

Guest: Here's the latest by Rihanna

Me: But it's no contest to Harry Nilsson

There's Money In Old Boats

Spondoolics will soon be coming this way!

Thanks to you, dear bloggees, everytime a viewer of this 'ere blog expresses an interest in one of the adverts, those nice people at Google notch up a few pennies to pass in my direction.

Now, A Boat For My Potplants has never been intended for profit, but I did state a while back that if the blog ever amassed enough to reach the sixty quid threshold, then I'd donate that dosh to the Wivenhoe British Legion, whos building is a mere stone's throw along the quay from the Boat For My Potplants.

It gives me great pleasure and excitement to announce that the threshold has now been crossed and a celebratory party will be thrown onboard for the handing-over-of-the-cheque ceremony.

I just hope that the rain, wind and snow will have eased off by then.

There's money in old boats, you know.

CHEERS!

  

The Art Of Pottering (Part Two)

The lovely Mrs 'Erindoors has ventured West to visit her daughter for the weekend, leaving me to fend for myself.
So on Sunday morning I decided it was about time I got on with some more boat-pottering. This time, instead of gazing at my naval and not actually doing anything (see Part One of this duology), I got on with the v. important task of repositioning the Grundig amp from starboard to port in order to accommodate two people sitting at the table, and talking into a microphone for Radio Wivenhoe. More on those plans at a later date.

Some men (and women?) have a shed to potter in, but I don't. Instead, I have a Boat For My Potplants, and after setting the amp into the locker space, I put on some music (Captain Fantastic, one of Elton's better albums) to check out the old hifi.

Even I have to say that the acoustics from those spherical speakers were in fact the dog's b*ll*c*s. This 1970's boat, with all its wood, cushions and curtains, is the perfect environment for a 1970's bit of hifi kit.

My next task is to locate a suitable microphone and mixer desk and start building the 'studio'. But for today I was perfectly content to make myself a brew and soak up the sounds from the Seventies.

The Art Of Pottering On A Boat

It was a wonderful sunny afternoon yesterday and I'd finished work early, so a quick pop down to the Boat For My Potplants wouldn't go amiss.

I didn't want to do anything too taxing. I lit a candle on the rear deck and looked around, checking to make sure the two Snowy dogs were okay and weren't feeling too left out after the recent Cutest Canine shenanigans in which they weren't allowed to enter (as they were bound to have won). They seemed to be okay.

Then I wandered around the galley (kitchen), and found an almost full bottle of white wine left over from last year's Smallest Pirate Radio Station madness. I thought I'd better make sure it was still drinkable. It was.

After that I lifted up the ol' shagpile and checked the bilge. There was a wee bit of water there. 'No!', my mother would say. 'A bit goes in a horse's mouth.' Okay, mum, there was a wee drop of water there.

So I sponged it up, and looked around to see what else I could do, without actually doing anything. I opened the lockers to make sure that things were still there, and I moved the things around a bit. I switched on the lights and then off again. I turned on the radio and listened for a while, and made mental notes of the various jobs to be done during the coming days, weeks and months ahead.

But for now I was content with simply mastering the art of pottering on a boat and not doing very much at all. 

And The Winner Is...

I think Ian got the wrong end of the stick with his photo (above) and comment "I know he doesn't look like a dog but the man who sold it to us assured us that he is"
Well thanks a lot Ian. Keep taking the pills.

Anyway, back to the serious business of announcing the winner of the Cutest Canine-on-boat competition. After spending one of my most bizarre and surreal Sunday evenings ever, adding up doggie-votes, I can now reveal the results. Drumroll please...



Sniffing up the rear in fourth place we have Griff's MACIE with a cool 17.5% of the vote. And jolly well done Macie for wearing a jacket.






Closely laying in front of Macie, there's old BORIS, who pulled in a cool 20%, looking like he rules the waterways. 





In second place, in front of Boris, DYLAN got an impressive 25%, undoubtedly thanks to his cuddliness. 



But the heartiest congratulations go to the leader of the pack, also safety conscious, our number one Cutest Canine, with a massive 37.5% of the entire votes cast, please put your sea-legs together for Mark and Julie's TETLEY. 




I remember being five years old and the teacher making each of us in class stand up and say what we wanted to be when we grow up. 'Please Miss', I said. 'I'm going to have a Boat For My Potplants with dogs on it, and astroturf, winter pansies, and a hi-fi, and everything. And I'm going to be a judge for my own doggie competition'. 

'Don't be stupid, boy', Teacher said. 'Go and stand outside the Headmaster's study'.

And then I woke up.