Legends from our own lunchtimes

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Mr P's last hurrah!
Lagarde 10th September

Tomorrow is the big day.

Duncan is due to arrive for the extraction of Mr P so there was no mucking around today we just had to have all the disconnections done and hopefully the wiring connections recorded to give us some hope of getting it all back in the right order in six month's time.

Disconnecting is quite a simple task really, it involves taking the nuts of the electrical connections, letting them touch in a shower of spark and crackle, neatly tripping the safety switch and saving one from having to scratch around to find the right circuit breaker to isolate.

Once the electrical connections are sorted, one removes the fuel line, screams frantically for something to catch the trickling diesel, reconnects the fuel line, finds a suitable receptacle and turns off the fuel tap at the tank, disconnects the fuel line, and so on.

Thus it was that with almost no drama at all, there were only the engine mounts to undo.    By that time it was raining sufficiently hard that I was able to find something to do in the heated saloon, while Bill struggled away in the rain, cursing silently in seven languages as each tool brought to free the bolts failed in new and spectacular fashion.   Eventually he managed to find the right combination of big hammer, water pipe and belligerence, while completely ignoring my continual stream of very good suggestions, and Mr P sat on his beds, disconnected, awaiting his fate.

As the sun set, we were left pondering how awkward it felt, living on a boat with no means of propulsion.


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