The Crick Show part II

Sunday 27 May

Our anxiety about the weather proved well founded. In six years of helping at the OwnerShips Show at Braunston on the first weekend of February, I can't recall it as bad as it was today. Mostly it was raining, with a steady northerly wind behind it. The rain itself was cold, and of course the wind made it worse.

There were far fewer people waiting to come into the show this morning, but we had a full schedule of appointments and kept very busy. Life was made more complicated by the fact that we couldn't now ask people to leave by the stern doors. Since Braidbar is 70 feet long, she overhung the jetty by about 10 feet. Yesterday we'd asked all the reasonably fit punters to walk the short stretch of gunwale from the stern to the jetty, but that was out of the question in these conditions. There was therefore much to-ing and fro-ing inside the boat, and it was often necessary to demonstrate that it was possible to get three bodies inside a Braidbar corridor bathroom.

We had planned a meeting of the Braidbar Owners Group in the gazebo at one o'clock to drink a toast to Braidbar 100, but since the rain was blowing sideways through it, we held the meeting in the bar instead. This in turn meant that Iain and Luisa couldn't be there, as the appointments ran straight through lunchtime. Nonetheless we managed to get the owners of eight boats along: Sanity, Shimshams, Sebeq, Autumn Years, Farne, Nuggler, Scarweather and Priscilla were all represented.

We shut up shop at half five and went back to Sanity where I was due to provide the food. Stuart meanwhile had got himself committed to taking part in a phone-in on Radio 5 Live. He'd responded to a piece earlier in the day about his experience of having his chip and pin card cloned, and needed to be available at twenty past seven. I just managed to get some frozen chilli con carne defrosted and served it with brown rice in time for him to finish eating before his deadline.

He sat in the cratch which we'd lowered against the weather, and Elanor went in the bedroom with the radio on in there. He was asked for two contributions, at the beginning and towards the end of the prog, and did just fine.

Monday 28 May

It didn't seem possible, but the weather was if anything even worse this morning, but still people came to see Braidbar. We'd been asking folks to go and vote in the poll for best boat in show all weekend, and we began to think that we might be in with a chance. Several of the other exhibitors had expressed admiration for her, and during the morning we had a signal from the poll organisers, the finance companies RoyScotLarch and Collidge and Co, that we were in contention.


The pressure built up as the morning went on, and then at 1.45 we heard - we'd won. This made a great climax to a successful show for Iain, Luisa and Maria, and was a well deserved outcome. The next challenge was to get the three of them to the relevant stand for 2.30, but in the event a rep from BW came over and escorted them across. We all went over too, and I took some pictures on the phone.

Now it was winding down time. Stuart had already gone, and at 3 Graeme and Cathy turned up to take Sheila away. Cathy is very nearly due to present us with our first grandchild, and Sheila is to stay with her for the rest of this week as Graeme is on a training course - very inconvenient, but that's the Army for you.

No sooner had they set off than Elanor packed and went. With all the rain we'd been uneasy about getting cars out of the quagmire that was the car park, but as it turned out all went well. Elanor and Stuart in particular have through wrg much experience of these situations, and had taken care to move their vehicles to spaces right next to the trackway as soon as the problem became apparent.

I called in at Braidbar to collect some stuff - the laptop had ended up over there, and we'd got a 230V AC pump out pump from Lee San, and it had made it as far as Braidbar. Goodbyes said, I lugged this lot back to Sanity (the pump weighs just over 15 kilos).

What was needed now was a way of occupying my time that required very little effort from me, and certainly no talking. With this in mind, I'd made my arrangements, and sat down and watched the first three episodes on the DVD set of the first series of Blakes 7 I'd bought from Amazon during the time at Poynton. (For readers outside the UK, Blakes 7 was a 1970's sci fi series on the BBC noted for its high quality acting, neat plotlines and very shaky sets. Oh, and the fact that most extra terrestrial planets were represented by various bits of an old quarry somewhere in Hertfordshire.)

Tuesday 29 May

Despite waking early, I lay in bed and dozed over a cup of tea whilst listening to Sarah Kennedy drivel on. After breakfast I ambled into the village to do some shopping, and discovered that Crick has its own Health Centre. Since my elbow was no better, I went in and got a fit in appointment as a temporary resident for this afternoon.

Back at the boat, in marginally better weather, I spent some time sorting out the new pump, fitting rubber feet to it and putting a blue waterproof 16 amp plug on it. A certain amount of juggling of stuff in the various cubby holes in the engine room made room for it to go away, and I also put away the other bits and bobs like filters and spare drive belts we'd acquired at the show or been brought for us by the Brycelands.

This was mostly done by lunchtime, and some email checking and other boat tidying took me through to 3 o'clock. I got back to the Health Centre just before appointment time, and went straight in. A very competent and business like GP confirmed my provisional diagnosis - it was an oecranol bursitis, or as he put it, housemaids knee on the elbow. He drained it - it doesn't look infected - and sent me on my way in ten minutes. If it comes back over the next few days, I'll have to go in again, have it drained again, and a steroid shot to clear the inflammation.

Back at the boat, I treated myself to another episode of Blakes 7 before going out for a meal with Graham and Carolann on Autumn Years. This turned into a predictably merry evening, and I staggered back to the boat quite late on. For some reason, a cup of soup seemed a good idea, so I made that and drank it in bed before falling asleep (or passing out).