Written by nigmuncher
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Friday, 16 October 2009

image for Tales From a Northern Narrowboat 1 not a narrowboat

Not a lot happened over the weekend and I thought Captain Nigel's log would be left bare. Then guess what. The Brits never let you down. Captain Pugwash in his souwester loomed out of the rain and caught me amidships. And being caught amidships can bring a tear to your eyes, believe me.

About 11am Sunday and I'm still in my dressing gown having a civilised cup of coffee and a scratch of the balls. I was just about to move round the back, if you know what I mean, when there was a sudden total eclipse.
'Fuck me' thought the captain withdrawing his fingers. 'Must be that Armaggedon thing they keep waffling on about.'
Armaggedon it was not. If fact, it was no Arm of any kind, It was a 25 tonner. A 60ft narrowboat, appropriately called 'Titan' was attempting, in lashing rain and gale force winds, to turn round in the marina basin, on the edge of which I am moored.

Now, these beggers are flat sided like a house, and once the wind gets a hold of them, you are well and truly shagged, if you'll pardon the expression. And shagged he was, as was his wife. (allegedly) She was at the bows with a fookin great boat pole, trying ineffectually to push the monster away from the pontoons that reach out into the basin. She was about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. He was no better, the prune!

"Push woman! Push!" He yelled into the teeth of the gale. She was taking no notice. A few minutes wrestling with a 2inch diameter piece of smooth, polished timber had changed her whole outlook on marriage.

Being preoccupied with the English pastime of 'Criticising the wife' he hadn't noticed that 'Titan's' stern had begun to swing round in my direction. I'm in the welldeck by now, peering into the rain, watching a disaster unfold.

'THWACK!!'

Titan's stern smashed into September Song; poor 'Seppy' All the kitchen cupboards flew open, the boat rocked alarmingly, and I lost my grip and fell into the rain.

You would have thought an apology would be in order. Not a bit of it.

Pugwash just stared at me with mad, bloodshot eyes, and I realised that he had completely lost his mind, poor sap.
He turned away as if he had never noticed me and continued to drift, out of control, into the blanket of mist and spray and was soon lost to sight.

His cries of. "Push woman! Push!" were soon lost to the wind, and ,becalmed, I pulled closed my now flapping dressing gown and went to inspect the damage. Paint off the stern and a damaged fender or two. I can live with that....Pugwash? If I see him again, I'll punch his fuckin lights out.....and his wife's, too.

Yours

Captain Lotharia Bootfiddler (Debased)

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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