Friday 21st June Bloody Morse Control!

It is Fetes de la musique day in France on the 21^st June every year. Last year we enjoyed it in Verdun despite a dreadful weather day. A year later and we awoke to more heavy overcast conditions and having planned to travel with Avalon today, we were ready to rock at 9am. The rain came at 8.55am. We decided to make the most of free facilities and postpone departure as the skippers trained eye decided the rain was set in for the day. Nick decided to have a go for it and we would catch up later. 25minutes later, blue skies and bright sunshine. If I had been a cricket team  captain, we would not have one too many matches me thinks.

A morning working on the trims for the shower room and collette starting on wheelhouse blinds was well spent. Suddenly it was 1pm. A swift departure through the adjacent lock and we enjoyed a tuna fish salad for lunch on the hour long potter towards the second lock at which we had to wait 10 minutes. It was another delightful cruise through rolling countryside frequently catching glimpses of the great River Loire as we followed its progress all be it ours a more Romanesque route with long straight 3km pounds.

 

 Two locks away from tonights stopover at Pierrefitte-sur-Loire, disaster struck!

I felt a sudden give on the starboard throttle when putting her astern. I had lost reverse gear. Waiting for the lock gates to open with a stiff breeze on the beam and a very narrow stretch, I confused the hell out of the waiting eclusier and Arger in front by slipping in a full 360 piroouette before sliding gracefully into the lock. Heads shook but I smiled and explained and heads shook some more.  

We reached Pierrefitte without further incident and with good fortune smiling on us, a 30m long empty stretch of pontoon with Nick and Pam awaiting us. I got straight to the task in hand and suspecting the clutch cable was the culprit, I lifted floorboards and instructed the crew to engage astern. I was immediately alarmed to see the gearbox switch appear to fully go into astern but clearly there was no drive to the shaft. Unusual for me to fear the worse but I suspected a shot box. Nick had explained how he had a similar issue which was simply resolved by cable adjustment. I called to the crew to engage again, this time I applied a tad extra pressure to the gearbox switch with a lump of mechanics “snap on” supplied  wood. Yippee, she engaged drive. Of course this resulted in another situation with me screaming at the crew to disengage while the boat lurched backwards tearing brutally at the cleats. This was no time for her bloody deaf ear to be on the wrong side but as ever, In the crews own time, the message was duly recieved and she finally eased the throttle back. My mooring lines are all now a foot longer and all cleats have passed tension tests so some good came of the near catastrophe. When asked, “Darling, did you not think to take it immediately out of gear when she started heading backwards”  “I do not know where neutral is?” “perhaps forward somewhere of reverse dear” was my wisely unspoken reposte.

I started on releasing the upper helm throttle and clutch cables at the engine end to give enough slack to raise the upper helm morse. This requires the flexibility of a magicians assistant which sadly I am most definitely not. Having removed the morse before I was also aware that this was not going to be easy but 30minutes later, with the returning Nick offering assistance, we had the throttles raised and separated revealing the clutch cable issue. The bracket which hols the outer cable in position had loosened and the sudden loss of tension I had felt was caused by the outer cable escaping the bracket and hence not enough pull to fully engage the gear. This was great news as no new bits required. I managed to pull the outer back up the inner with a pair of molegrips and refitted the bracket, very tightly.

It took a staggering 2 hours to get it all back together. One nut fitting took the crew and I an hour to get started onto the morse box fixings. Had the guy who fitted this system been anywhere close, he would be in no doubt as to my feelings about the design. I could of course have drilled a large hole in my fibreglass to facilitate access but it seemed a bit extreme.

Very stressed, it was now time to check it all back together. With a cry of relief, she worked. It was now 9pm. Nick saw the lunatic leaping around on the boat in front “come on, you need a gin”, it was the only music to my ears on this fetes de la musique day.  What stars he and Pam are.

 I was keen to have a look at the village reported as very pretty by are hosts so with a late dinner again on the cards, we kept it to just the one large one before investigating Pierrefitte at sunset.

All the reviews were accurate. A delightful village with a particularly warm feel to the town square and eglise.

 

 A fabulous chateau and a great little bar, just closing unfortunately. Back at Doucette, the crew cooked one of her highly regarded macaroni affairs, this one with lardons. I drank more red wine before another midnight retiring.

I drifted into slumbers regretting the ranting and cussing  directed at Doucette earlier and reflected on how calmly the crew had dealt with me in my lost moments before a dull ache in my shoulder induced thoughts of a whinging Debbie Magee telling Daniels, “I just cannot get into that tiny box anymore” . Thankfully  a dark sleepy oblivion brought the curtain down  and that really was magic!