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    Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing
    Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing
    Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing
    Ebook144 pages2 hours

    Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing

    By Eddie Johnson

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    Once the ship had passed we settled down to wait for the next plan to emerge. Finally once we were east of the Shivering sands towers another ship came into view. This ship was coming from Sheerness docks and looked as if it would pass quite a distance from us. I found myself along with my father and our friend jumping up and down shouting Help were here! I knew this was futile as the ship was at least a mile away and the visibility was failing, and though I used to laugh when I saw this happen in films it was the only thing that we could do.

    Incredibly the crew on the ship did see us and changed course. As the ship circled us were heard a German accent calling to us. Are you in da trouble, we looked at each other and the boat. Our first instinct was to shout back that we were all OK and that we always sailed around with a broken mast. But considering our circumstances we decided not to be clever and shouted out yes, and how grateful we were that the ship had come to our assistance.

    My father had contacted the firing range and told them our estimated time of arrival before leaving home, so it was no surprise that we were hours later than we anticipated. It was mid summer and we were all just lying about in shorts and T- shirts and there was barely a ripple on the water. We were all enjoying the trip when I noticed a flash coming from Shoeburyness. I turned and immediately informed my father, who began to say dont be silly they know were coming, unfortunately he only got as far as they know were., when a thundering boom shattered a tranquil sail. This as immediately followed by a gust of wind that must has pushed the boat at four knots for a couple of seconds.

    On reaching the bank my father pulled the dingy out of the water and headed for the bridge. We could clearly see him walking around the by the control tower of the bridge for about five minutes, and I believe he was just about to give up and return to the boat when things got a little more exciting.

    A military Land rover sped up towards the bridge control tower and two Military Police officers jumped out, ran over to my father

    and promptly shoved him into the back of the Land rover. They then drove of at speed in the same direction they had come from.

    My father did have a slight problem when putting the wheel on. The fitting to fix the wheel too was round while the hole in the centre of the wheel was square. To get over this obstacle he used a generous amount of plastic padding to fill the void between the wheel and the spindle. We were coming up toKingsFerryBridgeand I was at the helm and as per usual the bucket was lifted up the mast.

    As today there was always a wait while the demigod operator who lives in the bridge decides when we are worthy enough to lift his mighty bridge. Until the mast can clear the underside of the lifting bridge we would circle. As we approached for our second or third turn the wheel stopped responding and as I tried in vain to will the boat to turn the wheel came off in my hands.

    Like most of the Wharrem catamarans this boat though 34feet did not have a proper heads, and after finishing the Chinese food Mick decided he needed to use the heads. Like my fathers boat prior to the rebuild the net on the front was seen as the gents.

    My father did mumble to anyone interested that in his opinion the net looked a bit rotten, but this warning fell on deaf ears. Mike staggered to the bow of the boat and dropped his jeans and pants and settled into the net. Joe who was not by any stretch of the imagination was standing quite close coiling a rope. Suddenly the net on which Mike was sitting gave up trying to support the weight of Mick.

    Mick vanished into the cloudy depths of the harbour, when he surfaced he was immediately having problem

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXlibris UK
    Release dateJul 17, 2012
    ISBN9781477141663
    Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing
    Author

    Eddie Johnson

    EDJ Publishing is set up to promote new authors and to bridge the gap between traditional and Self publishing. Our test case is Eddie Johnson's trilogy Breaking the Tranquillity of Solitude

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      Book preview

      Lucky Eddie Goes Sailing - Eddie Johnson

      Copyright © 2012 by Eddie Johnson.

      Library of Congress Control Number:       Pending

      ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4771-4180-9

                         Softcover                                 978-1-4771-4179-3

                         Ebook                                      978-1-4771-4181-6

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      To order additional copies of this book, contact:

      Xlibris Corporation

      0-800-644-6988

      www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

      Orders@Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

      303181

      Contents

      Foreword

      Chapter 1 The early years

      Chapter 2 Shot at and arrested

      Chapter 3 It’s a bit deep here

      Chapter 4 Dad’s favourite

      Chapter 5 Things don’t go to plan

      Chapter 6 Crewing for friends

      Chapter 7 It’s a long way down

      Chapter 8 A new start

      Chapter 9 The Voyage home

      Chapter 10 Where fin keels fear to tread

      Chapter 11 Dude where’s my dinghy

      Chapter 12 Night sail to Harty

      Chapter 13 St Katherine’s dock 2007

      Chapter 14 Our holiday July 2008

      Chapter 15 Swale Pooh sticks Regatta 2009

      Chapter 16 First Overnight trip of 2010

      Chapter17 Burnham 2010 Rough old trip

      Chapter 18 Woodbridge a Deben to far

      Chapter 19 Holiday 2010

      Chapter 20 We’re sinking

      Chapter 21 The Season hasn’t started yet

      Chapter 22 Swale Regatta woes

      Note:

      Some of the names have been changed but all of the events are entirely factual.

      To understand the events within this book easier please refer to the maps on the next two pages.

      002.jpg

      Reproduced from Ordnance Survey map data by permission of the Ordnance Survey © Crown copyright 2010

      003.jpg

      Reproduced from Ordnance Survey map data by permission of the Ordnance Survey © Crown copyright 2010

      Foreword

      Though my earliest memories are vague images of standing on the floor of a dingy holding onto the sides and looking out when I was aged about three, my real sailing experiences didn’t start until my father built a twenty seven foot Warrem designed Tane catamaran in our garden. Well actually he could only build one hull at a time, so after completing the first hull he waited until a convenient crane was driving near our house and offered the driver five pounds for a quick lift.

      Our house was the second house in from a turning and the lift required the crane to take up the entire street which ran along next door. The hull was then lifted out of our garden and carried across next doors roof. For me this was a great adventure, however for the little old lady that lived next door it is a wonder she lived through the ordeal.

      Weeks earlier my father bought a bubble car with an MOT and tax. Once home he took little time into cutting it up to make a trolley for the hull, and so the crane lowered the hull onto the bubble car trolley, after which we pushed the hull to the garden of the Napier pub not far from where we lived.

      After repeating the process the boat was completed in the pub garden. When the boat was ready each hull was wheeled to the beach, reassembled and when the tide came in sailed away.

      The Catamaran my father built was a Wharrem design which traditionally consisted of a cabin on each hull with an open deck. The starboard cabin contained the galley and prior to the rebuild could only hold one person inside. The port cabin technically could hold a birth but mainly held provisions, tools and the bucket we used as a ladies toilet.

      At the bow a large net was suspended between the two hulls and spanned from the forward beam to the second beam. This was to allow the bow to take heavy seas without the danger of pitch poling, it also doubled as the gents toilet.

      The steering was accomplished by one of the two tillers and as there was no cockpit, the rear hatch was often lifted and placed at an angle on the bulwarks. The helmsman would sit on the hatch with his or her feet in the locker. Due to the lack of berths when we went for overnight stays anywhere a tent was erected on the deck between the two hulls with the top of the tent tied to the boom.

      The boat was only altered when my father and a couple of his friends sailed to Calais. While in France he invested in a considerable amount of cheap alcohol and stored it all in the starboard bow locker. Unable to close the hatch properly the dinghy was placed upside down on the bow covering the starboard locker.

      Unfortunately on the way back the weather turned a little for the worse, and as they were making great progress none of the guys noticed the starboard hull filling with water. They were only made aware of the situation when the port hull slowly lifted out of the water as the starboard hull slipped under the water.

      The boat capsized at such a slow rate they were able to simply walk onto the port cabin, onto the side of the hull and finally the keel. For most people this would have been devastating, but things were not over for my father as he had to break the news to my mother that he had lost his suit which she was still paying for.

      Once the boat was recovered he arranged for it be brought to a farm not far from home. While here he extended the length of the boat to thirty feet increased the size of the cabins, fitted wheel steering, swept the bows and fitted water tight compartments on both bow and stern lockers.

      The new cabin layouts allowed for up to six people to sit side by side in the galley and boasted a fitted cooker and sink. The port cabin was split in two with two double berths in each. The port rear locker was converted into a heads and the starboard rear locker was turned into a comfortable cockpit.

      The only disadvantage with a lot of catamarans is the fact that there is little choice in engines. Outboards were the usual method; however with extra weight and length my father did try various other ideas. At one point he built an engine pod in the stern part of the deck and decided to fit a Robin Reliant car engine.

      004.jpg

      This is me with my Mother and father

      when I was about seven or eight.

      Chapter 1

      The early years

      At this time the boat was moored in Queenborough creek on the opposite side of the quay. Once he had obtained the engine and water proofed as much as possible the time came to get it to the boat.

      To solve this problem of transporting across the creek he built a purpose built dinghy specifically for this job. Everything was going according to plan as a rope was passed across the creek and a rope attached to the bow and stern of the dinghy. All that remained was to pull the dinghy with the engine across the creek.

      All was going well until the dinghy was just over halfway across the creek when a sharp piece of the engine broke through the bottom of the dinghy. With a contorted look of disbelief he watched the dinghy and his engine disappear from the surface and head for the muddy depths of Queenborough creek.

      Undeterred he salvaged the engine and did fit it to the boat. He even cast a two bladed prop from resign, and soon we were ready for sea trials. It did actually push us along and he was quite happy with the result until we went out for a sail with my older brother who also owned a catamaran, though his one was shorter and had a deck cabin.

      We were out for most of the day, and when we decided to return home the wind was against us. My brother had a small outboard on the stern of his boat and started back under power. Not wanting to be left behind my father started up his 850cc engine. Over two hours after my brother got into Queenborough we struggled in.

      Totally disheartened with his latest jibe to his pride he wrapped a chain around the engine and when we arrived back to our anchorage he unbolted the engine and used it as a mooring. It did make a much better mooring than a form of propulsion.

      Eventually after several other experiments with inboard engines he bit the bullet and purchased a 40hp Evenrude outboard with could then push us along in excess of 10 knots.

      My father often brought the boat into the creek and at that time there was a small dilapidated wooden framework on the opposite side which he used to tie to. During the winter I would often go with him as he worked on

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