William Shatner's Pants - STOLEN!

William Shatner's Pants was stolen from Torpedo Bay, Devonport sometime between winter 2009 and January 2010. Though she was only involved in a handful of adventures, she will be sorely missed by all the crew. I'm guessing the thieves either sold her to a fellow sailor that will make good use of her and perhaps return her to her former glory, or they were pirates. Pirates are still cool despite waining popularity in 2009-10 to make way for vampires, so fair enough if it were pirates.

Sold

Our trusty one dollar boat was sold today by auction.

She has served us well and it's sad to see her go in such a state. Impressive though that in a recession she sold for 1340 times her original value. Not a bad two year investment.

From Pier 21

The insurance company didn't want our "wreck" so Tui in the Hand had to go back to sea. Frenchie and Sam started at Mexicali then hoped aboard. We motored out of the marina without much trouble and downed our burritos and had one last Tui in the Hand. The wind started to pick up and the waves made things exciting, but we actually manged to get back to Devonport in just over an hour and a half. We moored close to the beach on the milk-bottle mooring and that was about it.

To Pier 21

Turns out our last voyage wasn't our last and Sam, Ben and Frenchie had to take decrepit Tui in the Hand over to Pier 21 in Westhaven for the insurance assessment and valuation.

We tried out our newly serviced outboard on the stern of William Shatner's Pants and it turned out to run cruise like a dream. It's very nice to know that we only rowed back and forth for two unnecessary years. Ben performed an doughnut and then the engine stalled 10m away from the boat.

Ben and Frenchie hauled the outboard onto Tui in the Hand and we set off around 10:00. We headed across the harbour to the container loading area and then up towards the bridge. At just after 12:00 we arrived at Pier 21 and tied up. The insurance guy turned up around 15:30 and we killed some time by downing some Mexicali onboard. It took 2 minutes to declare the boat a write-off and we left her tied up near Swashbucklers. We waved goodbye and headed up for a pint or two after a hard days work in the sun.

Tui in the Flagstaff

"Hang on, where's the mast?"

"Oh, there it is. In the water."

Saturday 24th January 2009. Eve and Sam were driving to the supermarket when we drove past the yacht club and looked out towards our faithful vessel. Tui in the Hand was in the right place, but it didn't look quite right. Sam's eyesight isn't terrific, but he could usually see the mast and today, he couldn't. We ran to the yacht club wharf for a closer look and yes, the mast was in the water.

We turned right around, threw the oars in the back of convertible (we looked well cool) and rowed straight out. Only as we approached did we see the full extent of the damage. The starboard side had been run into. Near the aft of the cabin the hull was dented and the cabin and deck were cracked above. The deck was also cracked at the front of the cabin. The perspex window was destroyed and the tiller was snapped at its base. We arrived onboard a little before 8:30 pm with the sun low in the sky.

The cabin was a mess. The starboard shelf was detached from the wall and one end lay in the middle of the boat. There was very little water in bilge, which indicated that the boat was not yet leaking through its new scars. Ben's trusty solar panel had been knocked off the port window and was lying in the bilge. The starboard deck along the side of the cabin now bends and it's quite possible that whole side may give way sometime soon in the rough sea.

It appears that the offending boat went straight into the side of ours at the aft end of the cabin. Their bow probably dived down and towards our bow. Out hull is heavily scratched in this direction and black (rubber?) from their boat has rubbed along the where the old name was and has coloured in the letters. The shock of the impact snapped the forstay at the top of the mast.

The mast was secured to the hull via a single pin that allowed the mast to be hoisted from horizontal (top of the mast hanging over the stern), so when the stay broke, the mast feel directly aft, which snapped the boom track off, and landed on the tiller, snapping it at its base. Whoever hit us then covertly disappeared and at some point between impact and when we found the boat, somebody tied a thick line between the mast head and the starboard winch to prevent the mast moving around. Unfortunatly the rough area that the boat is moored in managed to jerk the mast off the port side, twisting the base and breaking it. The base of the mast went into the air and the mast head sank. Only the array of halyards stopped the entire mast from going overboard as the stays had plenty of slack in them.

Sam cut most of the halyards away so that the mast could be hoisted back on board and secured the base to the pulpit and the head to aft. The forstay and furled sail remained secure at the bow and was lashed to the aft so that nothing was left dangling in the water. Most of the valuables (except sails and spinnaker pole) were placed in the dinghy in case the boat sinks before we get back to her. By the time all of this was done, the sun had set and we returned to shore around 10.00 pm.

I blame Frenchie. Where is he anyway?

Mooring fix

With a couple of hours notice of the long overdue mooring maintenance guys being in the bay Monday 8th December 2008, Ben and Sam dropped what they were doing and hurried out to Tui in the Hand on a grey, but temperate day. The mooring had been booked for inspection for almost a year and Tidal Engineering finally decided to turn up without telling us! Frenchie was of no use either, he was on a barge somewhere in the desert near Dubai.

Anyway, we quickly rowed out and put the outboard on the stern. The clamps were well seized and we eventually got one to screw closed with a wrench. We then hooked up the fuel line and pulled. Then pulled again and then pulled a little more. No go. Upon lifting the engine cover, we noticed some sea growth, which is never a good thing on an engine, and qucikly gave up. Thinking we'd missed our annual chance at a mooring inspection, we were plesently surprised with the offer of tying up next to the mooring barge while they did their efficient work. We were passed a bow and stern line and Ben wedged his foot between barge and our hull for about 45 minutes while two pirate-looking "engineers" pulled up a beyond-massive flywheel and gave it a good look at. They replaced the swivel and rope and marked a brand-new bouy EY15. Without much fuss they lowered it back down into a the depths of Duder's Bay, Ben hopped back onboard and they drove off to do some more muddy work.

Ben took the outboard home and then magically reported that it was running again in the new year! Wow! I believe we have his uncle to thank for that. Unfortunately, it would seem that we should have left the mooring to rot and break away. Then our boat may have drifted somewhere safe. Instead, it sat there bobbing away, waiting for trouble to come a knocking.

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