But it still doesn't help the poor machines - if a person fucks everything they touch then a straitjacket should make it harder to touch stuff! I have come across a few people that should be in a straitjacket for the good of them and especially everything and everyone around them.
Right. The hobiecat. Serious catamaran sailboat - for the "enthusiast"...preferably one who knows what it is all about. Needless to say, this counted our boy out but he still went ahead and got one. Just gotta have "the best" you know....sod the knowledge - who needs it?
Probably the most serious incident happened when I was mercifully absent. He took himself and a couple of mates out on the boat into the Kaipara Harbour - Northern Wairoa branch, out from Kelly's Bay. Howling gale, sea rough as hell and the tide about to run out. Good idea to sail? errr...no. Not really. But out they went anyway. Had a couple of high speed runs but eventually capsized it and because it had not been rigged just so (they are temperamental bastards, Hobies) he managed to bend one of the main cross bars...thereby rendering the boat unsailable due to rig falling down... They had a hell of a job righting it too since he did not know how to rig the righting ropes either...they go outside the hull, not inside...so we have three dudes sitting on a disabled cat, drifting very rapidly out to the Kaipara Heads...not a good place to be at any time let alone in a gale. However, rescue was forthcoming that day and they got towed to shore by someone who did know what they were doing...
Then there was the incident with the trailer. This time I was part of the drama. We were heading up to the Kai Iwi lakes to sail (bit safer than the Kaipara...). He and his Mrs were ahead of me and mine...we came around the corner to find him stopped on the side of the road about half way up to the lakes. Pulled up behind. The boat trailer had a flattie. MechAce of course had not recognised the symptoms of a flat tyre and had driven merrily onwards...until the flat tyre ignited and started to throw bits of burning rubber into the oncoming traffic...eventually the realisation dawned that all was not well ("WTF are all those people honking and waving for???") and forward progress was halted temporarily. The tyre by now was a mass of molten flaming rubber which through some miracle did not ignite the whole boat (plastic y'know). I think most of it had been flung onto oncoming cars by then...by the time I got there the fire was no more but the trailer was stopped dead. No spare tyre was around of course waddya expect? So the girls went on ahead in our car whilst himself and I tried to salvage the sailing day. Removed the wheel, left the trailer where it was, returned to town and hunted up someone to fix the tyre - amazingly enough we did get it fixed...and eventually got up to the lakes just about in time to come home again....
Then there was the regatta on the river...just he and I this time. Annual regatta on the Northern Wairoa river at Dargaville. We had plans to join in on the cat. The day dawned rough as hell and I was sure he would cancel. Really? hahaha, stupid man of COURSE we won't cancel. Rougher the weather the better the fun!!! So against my better judgement we went out. Actually not so bad once you were soaked through and the cold had numbed all your nerve endings. The gale blowing down the river was fun to cut across, although the reach was pretty short 'cause after all this is a river and not that wide just there...we had trouble going about once we hit the lee of the bank with its ten foot high Manchurian Rice Grass...the wind flared over the top and would get behind you, making navigation near impossible. So Wonder Boy decided we should jibe instead of going about...well that worked - if you held on tight. Until he jibed early once and as the boom cracked across and the wind came in full blast behind, the lee hull dug its shoulder into the waves and we carted over - with me being flung clear through the air for about twenty feet before I hit the water..ahhhahaha what a jolly joke...and of course, because we were close to the bank the mast dug into the mud on the bottom and we couldn't right the boat, despite by this time having figured out the rig of the righting lines. Eventually the tide turned and the boat drifting backwards pulled the mast out of the mud and we got her upright again. By this time I was nearly dead from cold so we decided to quit and we headed to shore. The tide was running out and the wind was running in so the waves were four foot high and just standing - equal velocity in each direction...weird water! And of course when we docked there was a dude there with his power boat and good old matey boy managed to ram his plywood boat with the hull of the Hobie...Mr Powerboat was not pleased and there was nearly a standup fight...but a little subtle diplomacy on my part managed to soothe ruffled feathers without bloodshed.
Like I said, Don't lend this man your bike!
. “No pleasure is worth giving up for two more years in a rest home.” Kingsley Amis
I used to find this in the motor trade all the time. Some people should never touch things mechanical and they should take the bus everywhere. People with some mechanical dexterity (or even 'feel') seem to get better life out of their machine. They understand that engines should be warm before thrashing them, they need oil changes and occasional titivation, they understand that riding the brakes/clutch will destroy the pads and linings. Trying to explain this to the mechanically challenged is a mission and a test of one's patience.
Some will never get it, in fact many won't, and that's why they make cars and bikes bristling with idiot-proofing technology. ABS, directional stability, traction control et al.
Mind you; who'd want to go back to distributor points, drum brakes and cross ply tyres?
Bugga! Gotta spread the rep.
I might've met his dad.
He joined us at the factory where I worked, he had a sort of puzzled expression but that might have been because he was peering out of the thickest pair of lenses I've ever seen.
He was to be a sort of odd job man, One of his jobs was to load all the factory rubbish drums onto a trailer and take them round to the fire pit. (This was pre Clean Air Act of course...)
Unfortunately our hero backed the tractor too close to the pit and the trailer slowly but inexorably rolled down into the fire. Excitement all round for a while but they got the trailer out - only slightly charred.
The boss gave him a fairly rigorous debrief, so that he should have been in no doubt as to how to safely perform this task in future.
Couple of days later a full encore. Sadly we had to let him go.
Just a few weeks later while driving his car he did a surprise U turn and T boned a 1%er out enjoying a ride on his Harley. The biker was pretty upset but he wasn't in a position to do much about it, he had a compound fracture of one leg .
A short while later our hero found a new position in forestry. The new boss asked him if he knew how to start a chainsaw. Of course he did. So he bends over and successfully starts the machine.
"Cut that branch over there", says the instructor.
"Where?" says our man. Staightening up as he turns and in so doing running the chainsaw up the inside leg of his new boss. Sadly they had to let him go.
I don't know where he is now, but if I see him coming I'm going to make a run for it.
There is a grey blur, and a green blur. I try to stay on the grey one. - Joey Dunlop
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