General Witterings -
02.01.02 on Rosy

Yes.  It's one of those funny dates again, though next month it will be even better.

Every now and then, I feel like a complete plonker.  Strangely, these feelings seem to be coming over me more frequently.

The latest time happened on New Year's Eve, when I chanced to look at the batteries.  I pass them four or five times a day, and don't spare them a glance, though I ought to give them a weekly check-over.  The last time they had their weekly check was about three months ago.

There are four batteries.  A Lucas one reserved solely for starting the engine, and three others that aren't Lucas that provide all our domestic needs.  I got them about 18 months ago, when two of the old batteries died.  To keep a matched set of three, I ditched the one that was still working, along with the two dead ones, and bought three the same.  They have transparent plastic sides, so the electrolyte level is easy to see - if one bothers to look.

When I looked, two of these batteries had cells in need of filling - indeed one cell was virtually empty.

Rosy has a dedicated engine room, but even so it is a bit restricted for space, so engineering works require litheness and suppleness of the human body - that I have not got!

Get the tools.  Squeeze into the slot, behind the door to get at the batteries, kneel down, and start taking all the bits 'n' bobs off the wooden shelf that covers the top two batteries, and find places to temporarily store each bit and bob.  Remove shelf (it merely slots into place) and find a place to store it.  Ah!  Nowhere available this side of the engine, so stand up to put it on the far side of the engine, which also happens to be the through passage.

Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!

Sudden and severe pain in the head is indicative of the fact that, on rising, my head made solid contact with the steel box that is the day tank.  This box is secured high up on the cabin side, and holds about 2 gallons of diesel.  (There is a hand cranked, semi-rotary pump that pumps diesel from the main tank to this storage tank.  The diesel moves from the day tank to the engine (and the diesel heater) by gravity).

The pain was VERY severe, and I sank to my knees again.  On recovering (somewhat) I rose again, s l o w l y.  When I was clear of the corner, I straightened up, and dislodged the tin.

This 'ere day tank.  When pumping fuel into it, how is one supposed to know that it, a steel tank, is full?  The 'designer' (?) decided that a short pipe from near the top of the header tank to the (conveniently located) breather tube for the main fuel tank, would enable the pumper to hear excess fuel in the header tank dribbling back down the breather tube to the main tank.  I never learned the knack, and pumped so hard that whilst some of the excess fuel dropped down into the main tank, most was forced up the breather tube, out through flame trap at the top, onto the roof and, hence, into the cut.  Dick Goble neatly solved this problem by tapping a hole near the top of the day tank, and inserting a little brass tap.  When pumping fuel, the tap is opened, and when diesel dribbles out, the tank is full.  A little tin can dangles under the tap to catch the dribbles.

I should put the dribbles back in the fuel tank, but I don't.  I keep them, and use them for a bit of extra oomph when it comes to lighting the coal fired back-cabin range.  It was this tin, half full of diesel, that I dislodged on my second attempt at achieving a standing position.

Needless to say the diesel went everywhere - some down my ear-hole, most over the dry-cell battery charger that lives near by (but that wasn't connected at the time).  And some on the floor - as I discovered when I set off to get to the kitchen, where are kept the paper towels.

I dumped the shelf, that was still in my hand, over the engine, and onto the passage-way.  I then eased round the back of the engine to get to the through passage to get to the kitchen, and slipped on the diesel.  I took a big step forward to try to regain my balance and tripped over the (effing) shelf.

I won't continue this tale.  I lost count of the number of times that I had to remove myself from the cramped position by the batteries to get yet another tool from the tool store.  Nor the length of time it took to strip down the battery charger, and dry out the diesel inside it.  Suffice it to say that I emerged from a ten-minute job about five hours later, bloodied, bruised, sticky-plastered, grazed and oily.  Rex said, "What have you been doing all day?"  I replied "Checking the battery electrolyte".  Grrrrrrr!!!

Mr et Mrs Froggie French-people next door have just returned from their Christmas in Paris.  They knocked on Rosy to get the key for their boat, as I was keeping an eye on their boat for them.

The used to live on a sailing boat, and sailed the Med, Caribbean, Africa in it, until Mrs said that she didn't like this sailing lark.  Ignoring the obvious course of action, Mr got a new, Caribbean-cruiser-type, canal boat.  The front door is a slidey door, opening from the front well deck.  It wouldn't open.  The cockpit drain had frozen, so that rain water collected in on the well deck.  He had a two-inch thick skating rink as a winter feature of his cruiser.  I lent him a lump hammer and cold chisel, and gave him a gallon or two of hot water.

MONEY

The Euro is now here, though, as a Brit, I'm having as little to do with it as possible.  I've been asked what I do about money as I travel around.

I rely on a Barclays Bank account, a debit card and a credit card.

The credit card is my reserve.  I use it as little as possible - partly 'cos I'm pretty sure the exchange rate on it would be exorbitantly high, and partly 'cos I don't like to carry debit balances on it, and by the time the account reaches me (and tells me what I owe) the payment day has passed.

Instead, I keep my bank account topped up, and retrieve cash through holes in the wall using a debit card, and, hence, buying everything in France for cash.

This system has worked out OK for 2 years.  I have a nest egg of UK pounds 'just in case'.  I'm also not going to trust my debit card to a hole in the wall for a day or two, until I'm sure that it won't be screwed-up by Euroisation.

I'm also keeping a nest egg of French coins, as I don't think the local Washeteria is going to change its slot machines in the near future.

The Euro will obviously make it easier to make price comparisons between countries, but if something is cheaper in Germany, how do I get it?  It'll take a month or two to get there in Rosy, and by the time I get there, I'll have forgotten what it was.

Toodle pip!!

Bill