Breaking down is very inconvenient to the boater who has set his mind on a trouble free excursion involving supping at as many waterside watering holes ;in essence having to attend to all things mechanical is a sheer waste of drinking time.
If you ever go out boating it is customary to waive to fellow captains. You would think that this is a sign on friendship but beware, this is not necessarily the case.
We tried without success to flag down several boats for assistance. Two boats that did come to our rescue were about as good as a chocolate tea-pot. One had a small outboard motor fitted to it which was hardly powerful enough to make any headway against the current, never mind trying to tow a boat five times its size and a hire vessel, the captain of which kindly informed and with great delight, us that ,it was against company policy to assist people who really did need their help. As they left the Captain couldn’t resist shouting out “Wanker!”
Just when we were about to abandon all hope, another hire vessel called Thames Merlin 3 was spotted and the Captain waived and shouted to the other crew. The Captain thought that they were deliberately on purpose ignoring his plea and shouted across “You must be deaf then” and to his surprise a woman shouted back “I’m not deaf and if you want help, you’d better behave yourself.”
Well their crew consisted of three septuagenarians from Hartlepool called Bob, Dil and Cathy.
The women folk were great lassies and possessed a true northern friendliness and Cathy asked the Captain “ Ee d’y want a cup of tea luv”.
The towing service took about twenty minutes before we got back to a mooring where we could reflect on what our next move would be.
Cathy was a widow with a large motherly bosom and when the Captain revealed his penchant for grannies, she coyly smiled and said “You’re a bit too young for me luv”. The Captain smiled back and said “See you in ten years time, when I’m old enough then and by the way, you haven’t got any younger sisters for my two friends have you?”.
We decided that we needed a further tow to a place where we could more easily access the road and the town of Marlow , and so when a huge, expensive boat was approaching us, the Captain sounded the horn three times and , low and behold if the Captain didn’t know the captain of the approaching vessel Lady Annalise.
“Got a spot of bother then Jimmy?” shouted out Captain Kenny from his reversing boat.”Don’t start me off Kenny, we just met a couple of zombies down stream who quoted the obvious but we soon put them right, eh crew”.
Captain Kenny’s first mate Henry called out “I’ll throw you a couple of lines and tie them to the bow cleats and take up the slack”. Billy the Cabin Boy jumped like a five year old onto the front deck and secured the lines.
We passed through the lock without any major incident, except for grazing the lock walls twice and hitting three other boats, which was, considered some achievement.
Annalise, Captain Kenny’s wife, hailed from the top deck”You lot been on the sauce again!?”
Billy replied poetically, in his usual gentlemanly way “Far from it my dear, we are merely drunk on the love of life, and it’s a devil of a long way to the next hostelry, is there any chance of coming about your fine vessel for a quick snifter ?”.
Annalise scolded the Cabin Boy by saying, “Watch your language in front of children and people who sniff used underwear are sick”. Billy as quick as lightening, laughed and replied “ Madam, a snifter is a term to describe a small alcoholic drink” and Captain Kenny joined in the laughter and chipped in with “Throw him a couple of wine gums darlin’”
We arrived in Marlow after having been towed for about twenty minutes and after thanking Kenny and crew for their kindness, the Captain said “ I think it’s time for a snifter”.
While having a quick beer or three the First Mate said” You know back there Annalise got upset about a snifter, well I read a few years about this guy called Ian Stafford in the News of the Screws, who was actually jailed for a couple of years for jerking off while knicker sniffing. Apparently this guy was the Mayor of Preesal, some sea-side town on the Lancashire coast and used to work as a handyman and gardener, and because he was a trusted member of the community, customers freely gave him their keys to their houses. He would sneak into their houses when they were at work, steal their knickers, take them home, and have a quick five fingered shuffle while sniffing them. He was only caught because one of the women became wary when she noticed that her undies began to disappear and had a hidden surveillance camera installed “.
