I'm moored up overnight, on the visitor moorings at Willington. I get up early this morning and think to myself, I'll have my biennial shower. I get myself suitably sodden all over and soap up a good lather. I'm enjoying myself while at the same time humming to myself in more ways than one - Scrub in all the crevices - with the new conscripts military preparation - the much famed and feared regimental bath usually conducted with a wire brush and dettol.
It's now time to wash the first few layers off. The pump is running but the shower ain't. Budgerigar the twatters gone. So I get myself washed down with the remains of what was in the kettle. I look across at the water point. There is a boat moored up in a fetching two tone 'Red Oxide and Bitumen'. But there is nothing much happening, in the way of activity - must be about ready to go. I'll make a cup of coffee while I'm waiting - shit no water in the kettle.
An hour later, and still nothing has moved. Gasping for a coffee and at the head of a line of boats forming up for the water-point. Half an hour later Mrs Nobhead arrives. She must have been in the village. She proceeds to get the hose pipe out and connect it up. Agggh I'm keeping myself occupied chanting and casting ancient runes (Anglo Saxon swear words) and at the same time pushing pins into a voodoo doll. Its a belts and braces thing with me.
Twenty minuets later Mr Nobhead arrives, also from the direction of the village. One of the people in the queue waiting to use the waterpoint says, I seen him shopping in the Co-Op in Willington must be about an hour ago.
Question: How much urine should I pour in the diesel tank or is there another more suitable tank option available.
It's now time to wash the first few layers off. The pump is running but the shower ain't. Budgerigar the twatters gone. So I get myself washed down with the remains of what was in the kettle. I look across at the water point. There is a boat moored up in a fetching two tone 'Red Oxide and Bitumen'. But there is nothing much happening, in the way of activity - must be about ready to go. I'll make a cup of coffee while I'm waiting - shit no water in the kettle.
An hour later, and still nothing has moved. Gasping for a coffee and at the head of a line of boats forming up for the water-point. Half an hour later Mrs Nobhead arrives. She must have been in the village. She proceeds to get the hose pipe out and connect it up. Agggh I'm keeping myself occupied chanting and casting ancient runes (Anglo Saxon swear words) and at the same time pushing pins into a voodoo doll. Its a belts and braces thing with me.
Twenty minuets later Mr Nobhead arrives, also from the direction of the village. One of the people in the queue waiting to use the waterpoint says, I seen him shopping in the Co-Op in Willington must be about an hour ago.
Question: How much urine should I pour in the diesel tank or is there another more suitable tank option available.
Re "Nobheads" - I'm curious , there seems to be a general reluctance among the cruising fraternity to simply move inconsiderately moored boats out of the way of facilities ( ok not always possible I know ) Is there some sort of etiquette involved or merely a wish to avoid confrontation ?
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