3. The Egg Relativity Theory
…And Gamecock’s Skipper Goes Stark Staring Bonkers
The quayside gap was still open for business. No-one had yet managed a seamanlike approach (apart from us, I’d like to say it was skill, but we did it in no wind). So, the bets were all off when a rather cute looking 34 footer came in one evening looking for some quayside action.
A couple of passes of the quay to suss it out and the crew of the privateer Charlotte Too had the leeway figured out to make a nice sideslip approach. With the slightest of bumps, easily absorbed by the fenders and they tied up in the middle of the quay. A little re-configuration of the spring lines had her sitting pretty, introductions were made with James the skipper, Mike and Ashley confirming that conditions outside the harbour remained even more lively.
“We’re staying put for another day or so until we get the forecasted less wind” I announced. “Us too” they said and Souvlaki and Gyros recommendations were shared.
Gamecock’s crew longed for some more quay action. It was the highlight of our mad days in Serifos. We didn’t have to wait long.
Later that evening something literally whizzed past the portlights.
“What the hell was that?”. Three crew jammed their heads out the of the companionway to see the 45 foot, lightweight Reichel Pugh beast skimming around the harbour trying to decide between a night at anchor or the quay. Probably emboldened by the presence of 2 yachts the quay won.
Despite having been out for supper with beers, the enterprising Captain Crack headed straight to the coolbox and fished out the beers.
“Here you go, game on”, he said. And it was.
Stuffed with Gyros and Greek salad the Monkey Nuts stayed stashed. So, I bet three future Monkey Nuts on a fuck up.
It wasn’t looking like it was going my way. The driver of the whizzing sled seemed to have it all under control and clearly had his eye on the quay end gap with the space between Gamecock and Charlotte Too almost impossible.
Relieved that we weren’t in the target zone we watched as he did a fly past to get the sideslip calibration…
“Nah, he’s got this one”, I said.
Seconds later he was around and on on finals.
“Oooh” I said, “He’s fucked that right up, the Monkey Nuts are looking good.”
Perhaps over cautiously the sleigh driver had stood too far off. He managed to stop the boat dead in the water leaving a good 20 feet of water between himself and the quay. Maybe it had a retractable keel, I don’t know but the lightweight boat was soon into a perfect parallel drift towards the quay. At some speed.
Although they had some dumpy fenders out I could see that with the speed they had something was going to give. In some slightly shouty foreign language a slippery pitsnake like crewmember was seen diving for amidships with huge retangular fender and just managed to get it between the boat and the quay.
Crack! The sound of the boat meeting the quay was less of a kiss and more like a teeth clashing frenchie. I’m still not sure whether it was some exotic aramid fibre giving way or one of the crew smacking their noodle on the boom.
“Bit dissappointing”, I said, by now used to seeing at least some hairy fibreglass core.
“No visible damage, no Monkey Nuts”, said Captain Crack.
“Tomorrow’s another day”, I said brightly knowing more was to come.
Tomorrow came, the Sled had Sledded off sometime in the early hours no doubt wanting to reach somewhere sooner at some absurd speed, or just plain embarassed at a Kevlar Bruise on their amidships, leaving the end of quay gap open like some whale’s mouth to unsuspecting plankton.
Soon enough, a large catamaran, some 55 foot of it decided that gap was theirs and they executed an almost like for like manoeuvre to the Sled.
The good thing about Cats is that they’ve got pretty much straight edges, less like an egg and more like a cucumber, so there’s more load to be shared with the quay, and the Cat had some mahusive fenders. A real let down.
Now, for the sake of this post, we’ll call the Catamaran “Two Cocks”, you already know about Charlotte Too. The grey bit is concrete aka The Quay.
So, this is the part of the story where it all starts to go really wrong and this skipper starts to lose the plot…
That’s the big picture. Get it? Guess what’s next….
Yes, you’ve got it. The only gap available on the entire quay is the one behind us (Gamecock) and in front of Charlotte Too. It’s a gap of about 40 feet.
Cue the arrival of the retards. Yes, I’ve said it. Retards.
The Retards are what can be loosley termed driving. Driving a big shiny 51 foot charter boat kindly, unwittingly and naively provided to them by Mr Kyriacoulis Fine Yachting Charters from Athens.
“Erm, skipper you need to come up here there’s a boat trying to ask us something.”. “Have they got a speech impediment?”, I replied already having an inkling of what might be about to happen.
So, resigned to facing facts my two feet hit the cockpit floor. A lot of waving of hands and pointy fingers and I gradually realised that The Retards are telling me that they want to fit their 51 foot boat into the 40 foot gap.
Back to the maths. Yup, you’re ahead of me. It’s 11 feet too small a gap. And the wind is still bloody blowing. I make gestures like Too Small. That’s not me by the way, thank you.
Around they come again. By now it’s getting a little tense. They make “Move up” like signals. I make a signal in response which for even the most International of Retards would be understood, and I have to give them credit, I think they got the jist of it because they looked Very Cross.
“Maybe they’ll go away now”, I said, already back down the companionway.
“Erm, they’re coming back again”, said the crew.
Peering out of the portlights I could see that they’d adjusted their plans and were no longer looking at The Gap. Instead, they’d turned their attention to the pretty side of Charlotte Too. For the sake of this post about Relativity and Forces we’re going to have to give Mr Kyriacoulis’ boat a name…
“So what?” I hear you ask. Probably time for a reminder — it’s still windy. Gusting 30 knots at times. Charlotte Too is an Egg not a Cucumber. The Retarded Ostrich is probably 2–3 times the weight of Charlotte Too and 17 foot longer. Charlotte Too’s fenders are already doing a fair impression of a a perverts knob being slammed in a fridge door.
It’s said that an upended egg can withstand impressive amounts of constant downward pressure. Sideways not so much. So here’s what the retards had planned…
With the likely result of:-
Knowing that our new friends were not on board Charlotte Too, and seeing what was about to happen, I was back out in the cockpit watching them make their approach.
“Right, I’ve had enough of this”, I said, rapidly losing the plot.
“Be polite”, said the crew knowlingly.
So, I’m asking the Retards actually quite politely not to do what is was clear they were planning. Complete ignorance. In fact, the Female Retard at the bow looked at me and asked me “Is it your boat?”. Well, that was it, mea culpa, guilty as charged, lost the plot, bonkers. Shouting bonkers.
“You will crush this boat. Go away”. Ding Ding Seconds Away Round One.
Total ignorance. They kept coming. By this time I’m on board Charlotte Too on the windward deck.
“You’re boat is too big and heavy, this boat is too small. You will damage this boat.”
Still ignoring me. In fact the retard-bow-bitch has got a line and is about to attempt to lassoo the cleat on Charlotte Too.
I’m now joined by a few others all telling the ‘tards to go elsewhere, and now trying to push their boat away from a collision with Charlotte Too. It’s windy, 6 people are now trying to shove it off. The Retard driving is looking at everyone. The Retard at the front of the boat is still trying to thread a line through the guardrails to secure it to Charlotte Too. I’m trying to resist the temptation not to jump onto The Retarded Ostrich to do some serious up front and personal shoutage when I think It Finally Sunk In that they weren’t welcome and with a burst of bow-thruster (Jeez, they could have used that earlier), they were into their next determined manoeuvre to reverse back and over to tie up against the straight sides of Two Cocks.
I returned to Gamecock. Captain Crack followed, telling me that actually the Retards were “Quite Nice” people and had experienced a problem when they were entering the harbour. “Oh yeah?”, I said. “Yup”, said Captain Crack, “Apparently they found themselves motoring in with all their anchor chain out, it was only when the anchor caught the bottom of the harbour that they realised they had an issue.”
Not the only bloody issue they’ve got, I thought. And retired below to check the weather forecast. Again.
