Test launch Day!!

Hint

For weeks the boat had been creeping closer to sea-readiness, and it was decided that the coming weekend would be the one. Hamish's parents were away (always a catalyst for progress), so after working all Saturday we moved the boat to their garage and continued into the night. A few more jobs were taken care of on Sunday morning, until there came a point where we figured there was nothing more to do. It was terrifying.

We began the slow journey to the water, and stopped in at the petrol station for boat diesel and gas for the borrowed aux motor. We quickly attracted the attention of two old seadogs, one of whom was full of admiration for the thing, and one who could find nothing better to do than point out every possible flaw and sinking hazard. Though the latter was clearly just old and jaded, it increased my terror level to near breakdown point. I was running low on nails to bite also, and wondered how much of my arms I would consume before we arrived at the boat ramp. Luckily both legs of the journey total less than seven minutes so all limbs and appendages arrived intact.

I rolled one last, sparse cigarette, and walked ahead of the trailer, going through everything needing done before leaving the dry and then the trailer. The nerves had clearly spread to my crew also, as all of us were getting increasingly bitchy. Jumping in the boat as Hamish backed her down, I put her in neutral, checked the bungs for the ninth time, and attempted a deep breath.

Surprising how deep the water in the marina is

Water was creeping in the missing stern leg bolts that Hamish and I had deemed unnecessary, as well as through the unsealed exhaust hole which I'd assumed was above the waterline, not realising the stern floats lower on the boat ramp. Figuring we could just bail all that later, I pressed on. With water now a couple of inches deep, I found my temporary flylead and got the glowplugs going, then gave it a crank. After 10 seconds or so I began to suspect something, as it'd started beautifully every time since I put the primer bulb on, but this time not a murmur!

I opened the vent screw on the injector pump and squeezed through some diesel on the primer, but there were no bubbles. I cracked cylinder 1 & 2's injectors also, and cranked for another 10 seconds. Fortunately at this point a wrench fell and landed on the injector pump, and picking it up I noticed that the Stop lever was on. Thank Neptune! With that off she started up within a second, and after the injector nuts were back on she was purring. If that wrench hadn't landed there I might very well have dismantled the whole engine there on the boat ramp, lucky it did!

For better or worse, it didn't occur to me that if I was capable of that big of an oversight, then perhaps I didn't quite have all my faculties. That I should maybe cool off and have another cigarette, or take a general stock of the general situation (slowly sinking, controls too primitive, brain not working). Worrying.

Looking over the transom though I was pleased to see gallons of water spraying out the exhaust, and the engine chugging away merrily. At Rob's suggestion I tried putting it into forward, and that was all working ok.

From this point its something of a blur, though I distinctly remember saying "It's fine, don't panic" as much to myself as to Rob, after reversing off the trailer with a bit too much vigour, in the process breaking several water-speed records and almost sucking the transom underwater . The "above waterline" openings were spewing water inwards, but I dove for the throttle and gear lever at the same time and halted our journey underwater. The lack of throttle killed the engine however, so we were drifting haplessly away, and I really thought we were going to sink.

I am not ashamed to say that I have never been so afraid in my life. I assume I knew (don't really remember) that we weren't going to die, but I do love this little boat. What's worse is that it sinking would've substantiated every snarky remark I've ever received from defeatists who will never take a risk in their life, and who scorn me for backing myself to pull these things off. Some of my friends are these type of people, and I resent them expressing doubts about their own abilities, let alone about mine. Victory here is the only option, as they have to learn AGAIN,  that Wee Dave never doubts himself and that is why he usually wins.

Anyway, on to what happened next. I am pleased to say I remained reasonably equanimous, found the flylead and got her going again. Memory fails me slightly, but I think that in the preceding hysteria I had knocked her into forwards, so we took off at some speed and were almost on the plane before I could get to the controls, but I got there in time, cut it, and steered her gently onto the trailer. We covered that ten metres or so very quickly!

Just kidding, she's still above water! I just didn't take any photos and needed to keep things exciting.

The other guys couldn't figure out the winch, so I jumped out to the bank alongside and paid out some line, and we got her back on without too much hassle. Naturally the old miserable guy from the gas station was I-told-you-so-ing, but I really didn't care. We'd packed in a whole boat trip's excitement into three minutes or so, and had lost neither life nor vessel! The fishing rods and snacks may have been a bit ambitious though... Haha!

I'm smiling now just thinking about that launch, retrospectively it was the most fun I've ever had! Stay tuned for more Adventures of Wee Dave!