Dolphin Address 18
July 01th 2006
Do not mistake understanding the ‘if you learn from your mistakes you can’t make enough of them’. Even more, you can go for situations that you know to go wrong sooner or later. And then pay attention!
After the maiden voyage the issuing improvement: two lengths of lath of 1.80 metres, each under 45° with the boat back on the frame winglets, secured with a bolt and a washer, and a nut indeed. Not too tight to hinge. Inside on the extremes 2 times two notches of 90°. The incisions are of equal depth and as wide as the coke cap. This is screwed on double, the round fleece put back and the bottle twisted on. 8 litres together.
After the maiden voyage I wanted a trial. The weather was fine and conveniently warm. I drove in breakfast of a box of wafer thin ham followed by a shave. Saves time, however meditative shaving can be. But I was in a hurry as it was nearly three o’clock and time flies when you want to stay ahead of it.
I put the boat together in the water. First a go-go with the paddle. It’s not a canoe for sure, much too slow for longer journeys. Maybe I should give her a stern because now the whole angle of the bottom catches the water resistance.
Inside the bay the water was relatively quiet. My floater ends caught some rope weed, flatten the catches, and I noticed to go faster when I hinged the floater laths inside by pushing the lath outwards in front of the bolt. They do catch a lot of water, round up and edge, same for the frame. I went at walking speed through the bay, but once outside the jump and dive rock I hit the full wash, up to over a metre. The boat dove through them perfectly. At ‘Two bottle island’ the waves were Massive. It was a bit of hard labour, I’d overtake myself swimming, and at the island I took the lee side and paddled round the end. Mountains of water crept up the shore and as close as I dared I surfed along the rocks on shooting waves.
Because I want to be able to escape swiftly I took quite a large slab out of the rear end of the barrel. Therefore it took a lot of backwater and just past the islet I sat inside a barrel of water. But I did not sink! How does the ‘Jantanic’ sound! The only icebergs I meet are in my coke.
The full barrel was very heavy. Therefore I went up the island and ushered it. Back to baysics, but just past the jump and dive rock I had to empty again. I then hinge the floater arms square on the boat and lift it from the point. That gives me enough leverage to let the water out.
The next phase was to try if the mono traced better through the water. It did, but that was all she wrote. Albert would say: ‘Something can never become nothing, but neither more than something’. It is an old rag and that’s what it stays.
Moreover I was in paddy mode and in a Guinness book of records mood. Could I be the first man on the planet to master the high tide channel with a combination of waste, a domestic appliance and a road cone? One after the other gigantic wave stormed towards me with roaring shore water. I stranded on caution and turned around. Flash, boat flooded.
Last autumn I had taken a nice picture near by of a shallow where in turn the water washed in and out. That’s where I emptied the boat.
They should not have done that. All on willpower I rowed into the high tide channel again. Each wave sucked me up, the boat dove through and then I had a hard spell, but I got through in 5 minutes. In the roar I heard the fab four: ‘Here comes the sun’!
Now for the rebound. I broadened my back to dike out the water. Make a rubber apron. But then a score of seventh waves rolled in and the boat filled up instantaneous. I did try to climb ashore, but not a chance. As I did not want to grate my suit on the barnacles I turned the boat upside down and lifted it to get some air inside and thus I let us wash back with some correcting swimming.
Back in the bay I saw the tub had not survived and the screws in the stern had failed as well. I dragged the mortal remains by the point rope along through the stinky water. At the rock key a friendly Irishman helped me to lift it carefully out of the water. He gave a terse resume: ‘You’re nuts’. I pointed gawky at myself and said with a heavy accent: ‘ Me, I’m Dutch.’ Shaking his head he grinned to the pub. Maybe I should take some time before painting ‘Dutchy’ on it.
Jan Ploeg, WWR&DC, Fanore, July 1st 2006
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