Jeez here I am over in the Nullarbor Working Mens Club, Bar and Institute trying to get one of our newsreaders to join Nigella and YM for a break without that ugly bugger Mould and I find my cobber's all in the Zimmer suburb of Eastbourne.
Ps has Lord Varley had a thump on the head recently? Mr Southgate ought to rest him.

Nullarbor desert flats. They're nearer Adelaide than New Orleans. I suppose the bridge will blame the deviation of 9600 miles odd is down to ECDIS. No way will we make our Canal Street berth tomorrow, red button or no.

I don't know where you would get a walking frame but I am sure any port would have a shoe repairer nearby. What is a bugger mould? Surely there are enough about without resorting to casting them.

(My head is fine thank you. It just needs another mow with the beard clippers and No.1 spacer. I think Seaford now almost dormitory for London rater than traffic regulated cemetery but many Moons since I was there. School built over in the 90s. I have a vague recollection that Pa, who was stationed on the South Coast by the time of the invasion had saucier stories of the Esplanade Hotel and often exclaimed with glee that he had sent me to "Sunny Seaford by the Sea, where the shingle is delivered right to the door").

I once has Humber Super Snipe series II - Auto box and power steering.
One January morning I had to get to a business meeting at 09:00, about 35 -40 miles from home.
Part of the journey took me over a high exposed road, it had been snowing, the road may or may not have had grit applied.
With the auto box continually trying to kick down and the power steering taking over and hitting lock to lock, I travelled about four miles going sideways, one side and then the other, until I arrived at civilisation and was able to point the vehicle in the direction of travel.

Very Interesting but I would not care to repeat it.

Yep stayed in a staff room there with my parents one Christmas. That Esplanade hotel would move during a storm. Been demolished now. Te sea would have eventually brought it down anyway.

The Humber Snipe and Super Snipe are really 4th Division, League Two, along with Oldham Athletic and Port Vale. It will remain in the doldrums until Mike Brewer or Wayne Carini buys one.
What about the Humber Sceptre, a motor that really fires the imagination and put Coventry on the map.

Humber Sceptre?
A tarted up Hillman Minx you mean.
I had a Singer Gazelle - Minx body with Singer engine and radiator grill.
Roll on Ed China restoring a Humber Imperial.

Were getting to the Rootes of the problem, if you put lipstick on a Singer it still is a Singer.

The Singer grill was attached to the bonnet.
When one leant into the engine it was just the right height to gash your forehead.
I found that my barge cap helped - to soak up the blood and stop it running down my face.

Uncle Teddy had Humbers. By the time he was finished with one on the farm (Great Butts, Cousely Wood) it was barely fit for the road. I clearly remember the smell of the upholstery. Leather, dog and manure.

My first car was an Austin A40 Farina, two tone blue and rust. Bloody thing had no first gear and the synchromesh was a gearbox full of sawdust.

IMPORTANT CREW ANNOUNCEMENT :- (don't say you weren't warned) :cloud:

To emulate Sir Williams recent dental adventures I had two wisdom teeth removed yesterday, no need for alarm as I already am a certified idiot, plus one broken fang extracted. My usual procedure of grabbing the dentist somewhere tender (this was a lady) and saying "we aren't going to hurt each other are we"? didn't work :bad_mad: so I was then and am now in feckin' agony. Therefore any disturbance or spurious calls to the injun room will be met with a predictable response. Any questions or requests will be handled by ES just as soon as he returns from the nefarious activities he is currently engaged in. I just want to crawl into my bunk and die :very_sad::very_sad:

Chief, If you are down there anyway can I have the seawater temperature please?

What do you mean "thuck ornth"? Just make with it, pronto. Water and air on deck after smokoe too, please?. Chop-chop now.

-

There was a Humber Hawk as well I think - ended up with the same smell of manure.

*^+<***"£ !!!! I now know where to find sympathy in your dictionary, between sh1t and syphilis. Hope you enjoy the arctic blast in your cabin :smoking: that'll Larne ya :supercool:

So what do you ekthpekt as demonthtatun of thimpothie? As the ethnic eau de prattie harvest has obviously failed to numb the pain I thought you needed something to take your mind off your gnashers (or rather lack thereof). Just don't put the Tawny to your lipths until you are least sensate enough to not thpil it.

I see your hearing has improved did the gas blow out the old Euston Station tubes?

Ah. I see I've stumbled upon the SH rubber room? (No offense intended. I'll likely fit in).

On modern ships they now have something called 'Bridge Resource Management'.
We have something similar, but more like Steering by Committee,

Does anyone know where we are at the moment?

I know where I am.
Right the the east of this computer. Which by the way is an obsolete Dell laptop - hotrodded with a half terabyte hard drive, and more upgrades I really don't understand. Or want to.:bounce:


I'll get my precise coordinates. Here - 44d - 19' - 46" N; 74d -7'-53" W.

Steering committee? Didn't Warmington-on-Sea's Parish Council have one of those?

The only thing for steering gear is rams and hunting gear. Anyone keeping a tally of IMO steering gear failures against that that went before? (We had IMO equipped and with hunting gear but as more and precise engineering is required these, I fear, are to be seen no more).

"Bridge Resource Management" is a mechanism whereby the Ships management company sends the Master to train for a week, gives him a copy of the UK Chamber of Shipping Guide and then reduces his Bridge Officers by one. This trains the Master to send the Bosun and Cook down Aft to tie-up or let-go. And when the inevitable happens the poor old Ukrainian Master is hung out to dry.
Believe me it's every man for himself on the high seas.

Welcome aboard Mr E. von Hoegh. Glad to have you with us. I see from your CV that you have an interest in large diesel engines. Then you have come to the right place. Our engine room is of a rather highly classified nature. If certain people knew how our engines are capable of such fine performance we could end up with a world war. Hence you would need to sign the official secrets act. If you go up top to the Funnel suite you will find a man called Tmac. He is our top man engine wise and he invented our secret power boosters. Oh, by the way be sure to have a bottle of Black bush in each hand when you go up to apply for the Job.

I note that Mr E v H has provided real, actual coordinates.
Do members of the crew think that such a thing is a tad too precise to be used on that ECDIS thingy on the bridge of Golden Dreamer?
Enter that and who knows where we will end up.

I think we need an ECDIS upgrade (or better a Second Mate). I did enter the figures given but instead of a pretty picture and steering instruction I got "That'll be two and a half hours at gas mark 4".

The steering stand does have a 'Regulo' valve but the only thing like a clock runs 360 minutes to the full hour. The maker's man is on his way.

Reduce speed to 6 knots, steady as she goes. Cut outs stand by fore and aft.... Theres our berth up ahead starboard bow...ease her in a bit more. stop engines and let her drift a bit....slow astern Port...stop port. thruster to starboard.
Right cutouts get them lines ashore. 2 and one each end.
get the shore supply cable ashore and set the gangway.
FWE Tmac thank you.

Bollix, thank you!
The lazy bugger is still in his scratcher. It was I that moved them lever things and turned the handle on the wheelie thing to keep the fuel pressure up high.
This is the first port where His Lordship on the bridge didn't need a Double Full Astern followed immediately by a Double Full Ahead followed by a feed of abuse down the voicepipe. Perhaps the Pilot kicked him off the Bridge, Varley will tell me later over a few Tennants.
A couple of beers, a bite of grub and lets away doon the toon. Where are we? Not that it matters. Comm 'on lads, full ahead down the gangway.

Saranac Lake, northern New York state, USA. I'll confess that I googled the latitude and longitude, I presume they're related to a USGS benchmark somewhere in town.

Has New Orleans gone North? The makers man says were up the St.Lawrence and only stopped short of Royal Mountain because we had not paid for that chart data. He reckons the new bloke using degrees and minutes coupled with some idiot using the 'drop me off at home button' caused it to take us here. Anyone speak French? (my SiL says no one around here does).You can tell they'd never get a French King to take'em on again - they do a pretty good breakfast which would be an entirely new concept anywhere South of Dover.

Were not far from the new fella's place I say we hop across the border, go and help him pack and get his gear onboard. (Pretty little place E. v H, lucky you).