Life Aboard BY MARIANNE BARTRAM
MARIANNE LIvES ABoARD THE MV TRESHNISH oN THE RIvER DART wITH HER HUSBAND NIgEL
A
nnoyances on boats come not as single spies but in
battalions. I’m risking whiplash as my eyes swivel madly from the mildew on the ceiling to the rot around the door, veer to the leak in the galley via the rusting stove in the main saloon and back again.
Hub is on deck gazing about with an increasingly hunted expression poking at the jib (which having come down in a storm, is writhing and coiling like a python) and steadfastly avoiding what was the stern but is now a heap of wood under a tarpaulin. unchecked, the level of despair can lead to unconventional manners. When a boat owner strolls by grimacing and tells you that his steps have been wrenched away or his berth is soaked, you practically hug him in gratitude because it is so easy to believe that everybody else has pristine vessels. only yours resembles ground zero. or if having asked somebody to supper, they accept but are quick to point out it would be impossible to invite you back as their boat is such a shambles, you shout “thank God!” at them which can seem rude until you explain it’s relief … they are in the same boat (or may as well be). even passers by who enquire as
to “Is it hard work?” point out, once they can edge a word in, that I seem quite calm about it all. either I am battle hardened or - more likely - traumatised, catatonic and quite unable to respond normally to anything anymore. Hub thinks he might have a go at
replacing a frapped rope. naturally it goes through a block right at the top of the mast. He has obviously chosen to forget the last four years
as he is says it should be easy. Whereas I know for a fact that it would be easier to insert a length of wet spaghetti into a wild cat’s bum. As a control freak, I like, no, I need an orderly, clean environment that is also aesthetically pleasing. Yesterday I glanced round the day saloon and nearly erupted into the sort of wild and hysterical laughter that approaches madness! You know those television programmes which depict the suffering souls who have amassed so much clutter
We don’t usually envy
huge yachts and usually laugh at the purple, gold, leopard skin lined and Swarovski strewn horrors
that they are only left with a crawl space just below the ceiling to access their property? Well, I can see where it begins. I thought when we moved on the
boat- and before I knew better- that it would suit plenty of brass and copper, amassing my own hoard of objects such as barometers, compasses, floating logs, antique propellers, kettles etc. And so it does, but only for three days after you’ve cleaned and polished them to a state of glowing beauty using up at least five tins of wadding, ten dusters and half a box of disposable gloves when they promptly tarnish
and discolour again… But all the time it turns out there was a simple solution - cut a lemon in half, pour salt on it and the tarnish disappears. Hub never sees these things though. (A friend noticed some expensive ear rings and suggested I ask Hub to buy them for me! Well, he might at a push, buy me a pair of snap shackles if I asked nicely but when it comes to jewellery, I doubt he would notice if I had a Brussels sprout dangling from each ear.) When I pointed out my cunning solution regarding the now gleaming metal ware, he merely looked puzzled. Another example of genius viewed through the eyes of mediocrity. He did notice that the roof of the wheelhouse needed washing and set about it with the hose on full gush – this resulted in a deluge through the day saloon door which filled my shopping bag and his shoes with green water, feathers and bird droppings. I tried to get his attention but he is now as deaf as a plank (sorry – a person of restricted aural intake) and realised that nothing short of setting off one of our flares could have done it. It took ages to mop it up but when I complained he had the audacity to say that given the sole needed washing, this was, in the world of systems theory, known as an “emergent factor” and to be welcomed.
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