Up with the larks on our first morning, well 9.15 actually,
but hardly surprising after the horror story of the kiddie`s section the
previous night. I wanted to get stuck into the shaft issue but precedent had to
be given to re-commissioning the gas and water systems.
Turned on the gas, nothing at the hob. Wierd, it had worked
fine two weeks earlier on our investigatory weekend with the Smedlars. I removed
the regulator, gas poured out of the bottle. Wierd. Refitted the regulator,
nothing getting through, I removed bottle from its compartment and gave it a
shake, a healthy wash of liquid gas. Wierd, must be the regulator.
Following a quick trip to Leclerc, new regulator fitted.
Damned nation! one exploded, still the same. Ok back to Leclerc to change the
gas bottle despite my conviction of its volume. Even the gas bottle attendant
displayed surprise at my request for a recharge.
Of course it worked and all was well. To the water I hastily
progressed.
Filled the tank, opened the taps and switched on the pump.
No water from the taps and no burping gurgling air noises from them however the
pump was running hard. I listened intently, nothing but the pump noise, I stood
in the saloon surveying when I heard the faint smooth flow of water, It was
under the forward bilges. We moved bags and boxes, the carpet and I lifted the
boards to find the cold water pipe had come away from a jubilee clipped
connection, No split so must have been some airlock to force that off. The
bilges forward were half full of fresh water but no worry`s, I refitted the
pipe, emptied the bilge and topped the water tank back up. Let`s try again, I
confidently asserted.
The pump ran and the newly refitted joint was fine. The loud
jet of water heard from somewhere close was not so good. With that a torrent of
water cascaded out of the lower crockery, pots and pans cupboards and flowed
out of the under oven compartment. Damned nation the skipper exhaled, what
rotten luck! Pump off, we set about removing the contents of the galley lower
cupboards and drying everything, the dehumidifier was brought into action and
the drying process begun. Luckily it was another stunning day and the heat
helped.
The cold water copper pipe feeding the gas water heater was
scarred with a one inch split. It was in the most awkward of spots. It proved
terribly bothersome lying contorted trying to blind cut the offending section
out with a junior hacksaw, indeed the skipper`s patience was being sorely
tested. However still intoxicated with first day excitement, our gallant
skipper soldiered on and finally successfully repaired the damage and surely
now all was well.
For the third time, we turn the pump on. Stood in the galley
checking my handiwork, I instantly hear that dreaded sound again. This time it
is coming from the engine bay. Why has Neptune turned his back on me, I scream.
The hot water pipe has burst off of the calorifier and I
have a few gallons of water in my pristine bilges. After spending so much time
emptying the system last winter, I am bemused as to what the hell is going on.
I repair the connection and swab out the bilges.
Fourth time lucky, YES YES YES YES, GET IN THERE YOU BEAUTY!
I celebrate with a now late afternoon cup of tea and
digestive in the sunshine. I hear Collette call, “Darling the water heater
pilot is not lighting” It had worked 10 minutes ago so surely it was operator
error I reckoned as I hauled my weary limbs back into the galley.
Following an hour of intense diagnostic testing it was
discovered the fault lie with the huge d size Duracell max bloody everlasting
bloody sodding battery which had unbelievably discharged all its power on a
tiny pilot light on a rarely used heater in just one summer. It had been newly
fitted last year and should have lasted years. Memo to Duracell in order.
It had just not been our day. Weirdly I went to bed still in
a fantastic mood. Despite no progress on the shaft, time was our`s, my newly
found karma was interesting. Will it hold I pondered as the crew and I drifted
into well earned slumber.
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